Page 85 of Fraud
I immediately sat up, pulling the phone away from me to look at the caller ID.
Killian Townes.
“What?” I asked, trying to figure out why he was calling me at five in the morning.
And why he cared.
“Did he come home with you on Saturday? What about Wednesday?”
I opened my mouth to answer but then thought about what he’d just asked. “How do you know about Wednesday?”
Silence followed before he answered, “I just do, okay? Are you going to answer me?”
My annoyance grew into something closer to anger. “No. No, I don’t think I am. Because, first of all, it’s none of your business, friend. And, second of all…” I hadn’t really thought of a second reason. “It’s none of your business!”
Before he had a chance to refute, I hung up. Standing up, I looked in the mirror adjacent to my bed.
All week, I’d been taking it slow, wallowing over the lack of spark I had with Brian because I’d screwed things up with Killian.
And, now, he was upset with me.
With me?
Well, screw that.
I was done with Killian Townes. Friends or otherwise.
It was time to move on.
Permanently.
It was the eve of another weekend. I’d made it through an entire workweek, and tonight was all about letting my hair down.
Figuratively, that was.
Because my hair was already down.
I’d agreed to meet Brian downtown at a little place called ChaCha’s. It was a Latin club that had always intimidated me. Jane had dragged me in there several times during college, loving to throw her hips to the salsa music, but I always found myself on the sidelines, unable to find my rhythm or my confidence.
But, tonight, I wasn’t going to be a typical wallflower.
I was going to experience it all.
Brian had been nothing but genuine and kind since we began dating a week ago, and I’d slowly started to warm up to him. After my rather abrupt call from Killian the other day, I knew it was time to move to the next phase with Brian.
The physical one.
I was beyond nervous, but it was nothing a few margaritas couldn’t cure.
Or a new dress.
Playing on my best features, I’d picked out a dress that hugged my waist and accentuated my legs but gave me plenty of room to dance, if I so chose, and topped it off with a nice pair of heels.
I felt like a million bucks when I walked into the club.
Brian agreed.
“Wow, you look fabulous!” he said, placing an arm around me.
