First Sight

Chapter One

Tiffany

“ Another bottle for the table,” Marcus sings out. Everyone around us cheers in excitement.

The slight headache that started as soon as we entered this club is growing in intensity.

When I asked my boyfriend what he wanted to do for his birthday, I thought he would have had something a little more personal in mind. Something intimate for the two of us. Never would I have imagined my twenty-five-year-old ass would be at a night club at two in the morning.

I’m not a prude. I went clubbing in my younger years just as much as anyone else. However, I’m not one for being in overly loud places with sweaty bodies brushing up against me. Well, unless I’m at a Knicks game.

The other reason I’m not thrilled to be at a club on his birthday is because I knew overspending would be the outcome.

“Babe, don’t you think you should cut back,” I say, leaning into Marcus so I can be heard over the loud rap music telling me to throw my ass back.

Marcus frowns. “What are you talking about? I’m nowhere near drunk?”

His alcohol consumption is not my concern.

“I know. It’s just these bottles are $1000 apiece.”

Despite my boyfriend’s denial, we don’t have it like that. The money Marcus got those two years he was in the NBA is quickly drying up. I’ve done everything I could to make that money stretch as long as it has. Meanwhile, he’s only concerned about keeping up appearances for his friends. Friends, might I add, that haven’t given a shit about him since he got hurt.

Marcus places a hand on my knee and squeezes. “Relax, Tiff. It’s my birthday. We’re living it up tonight.”

He shouts the last part to the table and the leeches around him cheer.

I don’t remind him that it’s tomorrow I’m worried about.

Leaning into him again so as not to be heard, I say, “I know. I want you to have a great time, but you don’t have to prove anything to these people.”

He frowns, removing his hand from my leg. “I’m not proving shit to anyone. I’m Marcus Williams. The number six recruit for the Philadelphia Birds. I averaged eighteen points a game in my career.”

A career that was cut short because you decided to drive drunk after leaving a club one night and broke your leg in two places. However, instead of reminding him of that, I plant my supportive girlfriend smile on my face.

“Yes, baby, you were amazing,” I say as politely as I can. “But our savings is not what it used to be and I’m not getting a lot of work at the job yet.”

“Can I have one night where you’re not reminding me of that shit. I get it, you’re the only one bringing in money. Damn, it’s my birthday.”

He folds his arms across his chest like a petulant child. He acts like I enjoy this. I hate that I have to be the one to always set budgets and manage the money, but if I didn’t, we wouldn’t have been able to make it work this long.

Tired of playing responsible adult to his bullshit, I huff out a breath. “You know what, do what you want.” Standing to my feet, I tug the hem of my dress down and leave him and his friends to enjoy their overpriced vodka. I pass the bottle girl on my way to the bar.

Not only did we pay $100 a head for everyone to get into this upscale club, but we also had to sit in VIP. I guess that’s a bonus. I don’t have to fight my way through a packed dance floor to get to the bar.

“Can I have a shot of Tequila please,” I say to the bartender.

“Sure, which one do you want?”

“Whatever is the cheapest.”

I just need it to calm me down, it doesn’t matter if it tastes like lighter fluid. The bartender slides my shot over to me and I toss it back. It burns like hell going down my throat, but it immediately does the job.

“Another shot for the lady,” a voice so deep and smooth it sounds as if Barry White and Vin Diesel had a baby together, says beside me.

I turn to the man in question ready to give him the usual line of ‘I have a boyfriend’, when my words shrivel up on my tongue like bacon frying in a pan.

I’ve never been one to discriminate against an attractive man. I don’t care what color the package comes in. This one just happens to be wrapped in gorgeous sun-tanned skin giving me Italian vibes. His dark brown hair is cut short and professional. There is a light dusting of hair on his face accentuating his gorgeous lips. Dark brown eyes stare back at me with so much intensity my face grows hot. He says something else, but I can’t focus on anything but how nice his teeth are. Perfectly aligned and commercial white. He had to have spent years in braces for them.

“I’m sorry what?” I finally say once I realize he’s addressed me twice and I’ve yet to respond.

Those full lips lift slightly into a smirk.

“Rough night?” he asks.

His voice should be packaged and sold with vibrators.

“Is it that obvious,” I laugh nervously.

He places his elbows onto the bar, leaning forward, he turns to me. “Well, you’re over here taking shots of a fifty-dollar bottle of cheap tequila while your friends are drinking—”

“A thousand-dollar bottle. Trust me, I know the price,” I say, finishing up his statement. “We will probably be eating ramen for the next three months, but hey, at least everyone is having a good time tonight.” I roll my eyes.

Mr. Tall and Handsome stares at me without saying a word. I let out a breath.

“I’m sorry. I know I sound like the world’s worse girlfriend.”

“No, you don’t actually.” He stands up straight, dwarfing my 5’7” frame by a full foot. “You sound like someone who has their head on straight.”

Lord my whole body heats up. If I were his complexion, I’d be red right now. Thank goodness for all the melanin in my skin.

“Thank you,” I say pushing my blow out behind my ears. Seven hours at the beauty salon and this silk press is going to be drawn up tighter than Florence Evans’ afro by tomorrow.

“For what?” The gorgeous specimen beside me asks, grabbing my attention back.

Look, I have a boyfriend, but I’m not dead. I can admire art without having to touch it and this man is truly a work of art.

“For reminding me that I’m not being irrational just because I don’t want to impress a bunch of people that don’t matter.”

He takes a step closer to me, eating up the little space we had between us. For some reason, his close proximity doesn’t make me nervous or uncomfortable. Damn he smells good. I’m tempted to bury my nose in his chest and sniff like a basset hound.

“I was given some advice a long time ago, do you want to hear it?”

I’m not usually the type to start talking to random strangers, but there is a reason Ted Bundy is well known. People are more susceptible to attractive faces. Mixed that with cheap tequila, that intoxicating cologne, and I’m leaning closer to the handsome stranger to hear his words of wisdom.

“Sure,” I say with a smile.

“Always surround yourself with likeminded people, because bees don’t waste their time explaining to flies why honey is better than shit.” He says the last part as he brushes my hair off my shoulder using one of his long fingers. He drags the gentle touch across my collarbone to over my shoulder blade making a trail of goosebumps appear.

I clear my throat and shake my head. “That’s some solid advice.”

He shrugs and takes a sip of his dark drink as if he hadn’t just touched me so intimately that I almost came. “It has served me well.”

He has a nice smile. Not too big where it shows all his teeth, and not too small where it looks awkward. It’s perfect.

“Babe.”

I turn to the sound of Marcus’ voice. Jeez, I almost forgot about him.

Although Marcus called my name, his gaze is glued to Mr. Tall and Handsome. “You alright?” he asks, his attention still on the stranger.

“I’m good, Marcus. I was just talking to…” I turn back to Mr. Handsome when I realize I’ve had an entire conversation with the man and still don’t know his name.

Before he can answer, Marcus cuts him off. “Come on back to the table. I want to spend the rest of my night with my girl.”

Wow, it’s been a long time since Marcus showed me his jealous side. Usually, it’s me having to check some overly friendly female.

Turning to the stranger, I offer him an apologetic smile. “It was nice talking to you.”

He grins, giving me one last sight of that handsome smile. “You too.”

Marcus pulls me away from the bar and leads me back to the table. I hate to admit it, but I turn to look over my shoulder at the stranger one last time. There’s something about the man that draws my attention to him. I need one last glance. He’s there, leaning against the bar with his drink in his hands. His gaze is still on me. He dips his chin when he notices me staring. I quickly turn back around.

I doubt I’ll ever see the man again, but I’ll never forget the encounter.