Chapter 6

Six

SARA

There was no plan.I was going to sit in a corner and spy on him like some pervert. If Jen found out, I’d never hear the end of it. Our girl’s safety code—expertly crafted by her when we turned twenty-one and began hitting the clubs—was to never go out to a bar alone, never go home with a guy you just met, and never get into his car.

Perhaps a part of me wanted a glimpse of who this guy might be outside of his business suit. Maybe if I saw him with another woman on his arm, the childish infatuation would incinerate, allowing me to return to my normal, mundane life. All I knew was that I wanted to see him. The how and what would all play out once I got there.

Dressed in skinny jeans and killer heels, I took the service stairs leading straight to the parking garage. They were steeper than I would have liked to climb down in four-inch shoes, but I didn’t want to listen to Pedro comment on my late-night excursion. Given I was already breaking the girl safety code, I opted to drive my beat-up Jeep instead of using the train.

I drove down to Third Street and circled the block about seven times before a spot finally opened up across the street from The Pussy Cat’s Meow. Of course, the previous car had likely been a toy car and fitting in there wasn’t easy. I had to squeeze the Jeep’s fat ass into the spot. It would’ve helped if the idiot stationed in front of me hadn’t taken two spots. If it’d been anything but a beautiful new black Range Rover, I would have accidentally hit the back bumper—a couple of times.

Well, it did have Jersey plates, so that explained it.

The place buzzed with activity as I bobbed and weaved through the crowd, searching for his familiar face. There were several floors and rooms playing different types of music, from hip hop to dance to merengue. I searched the entire club for Mr. Iced Double, but there was no sign of him. A spot by the bar opened up, so I leaned my back on the counter and stared out at the scores of skinny women sipping their overly priced cocktails. They scanned the room for a potential hottie to buy them their next drink. I sighed and hung my head. Things were not going according to plan.

Then again, I never had a plan. Or perhaps somewhere in the deep, unexplored corners of my mind I had formulated some makeshift plan; I might waltz in there and spot him sitting on one of the lounge booths, hanging with two of his buddies. He’d spot me and be lured by my mystical beauty (I could be mystical in my fantasy) and he’d gallantly stroll to my side and say in his sexiest voice…

“Hey, can I buy you a drink?” a man asked in a seductive tone, startling me out of my day dream.

I turned toward the voice, my face contorted in confusion. “Huh?”

A very handsome young man sat next to me on a stool. “Can I buy you a drink?” he repeated. His short-cropped, black hair, sparkly-blue eyes, and chiseled chin made him any girl’s dream. With a practiced sexy smile, he waited for my response. On a different night, I may have been amused by the attention, perhaps even entertained it. Right then, I was more annoyed than anything Mr. Hot and Steamy sitting next to me wasn’t my Mr. Iced Double.

With a similarly practiced smile, I refused him. “Aw, thank you, but I’m actually the designated driver tonight. And we’re just getting ready to leave.” I pointed to my phantom friend in the crowd. “Oh, and there she is. Thanks again, bye.”

I scurried off before he could say another word. As I tromped out, the cauldron of the club’s belly spat me out onto the concrete, the night breeze splashing against my burning face. I jumped in my car and sat there, white-knuckling the wheel for a minute, reflecting on what I’d done.

I remembered my high school days and chasing after boys. Jen and I would stalk our crushes at football games. It’s how I ended up with Josh.

Ugh, Josh.

I shook my head.

Time to go.

At least no one knew about my hunting expedition.

As I turned the ignition, my relief switched to anguish. The Jeep wouldn’t start. I turned the key, but my engine responded with a fast-clicking sound. “Come on.” I leaned back on my chair and growled.

I popped the hood and jumped out of the car. It was pointless. I didn’t know anything about cars, but I needed to do something. My automatic door-lock was broken, so out of habit, as I got out of the car, I manually locked the car door and slammed it shut before realizing the keys were still in the ignition.

Shit.

No car, no keys, no phone. And without my handbag, I had no money for a cab. The night could not be any worse. I couldn’t even reach the front of my car because Asshole-Range-Rover-Jersey-driver was still parked in front of me.

As I kicked the front wheel of my truck, footsteps approached from behind.

“Whoa there, whatever it is, don’t take it out on the car,” a man called out.

As I turned around, I was whacked on the side of the head with a sledgehammer.

Then the world faded to black.