Page 45 of Paint the Town, Dove
“What do you need?”
“Hm,” he paused, “a new Bugatti.”
“What happened to your old one?” I played along, knowing damn well that man has never owned a vehicle – let alone a supercar.
“Whizzed off into the sunset, found a new life.”
“Luckier than most, then.”
He chuckled. “Can’t I just call to call you?”
“Nope,” I replied, popping another berry into my mouth. “Reason required, Ry.”
“That so?” A muffled car horn crackled through the phone. “Never needed a reason to talk to my Dove before.”
The girls stopped their chat, eyes caught on something behind me. Before I could turn, someone’s breath tickled the back of my neck. “Never needed a reason to see her, either.”
I stifled a laugh.Of course.
Ryden was dressed in all black, a leather jacket thrown over a charcoal hoodie. “Afternoon, ladies.”
I quirked a brow. “Why are you here?”
“Good to see you, too.” He grabbed the nearest empty chair, nodding at the couple who didn’t have time to react to his presence.
Is that?I heard them say.Ryden Spectre?
But he’d already turned around, ballcap low over his eyes, sitting at mynowtable of four.
“Did you not have soundcheck booked in for one?” I asked,demandedrather.
“Rescheduled,” he smiled, crossing his arms.
“And how come I wasn’t notified?”
“Because I just made the decision.”
Sly fucker.“Where’s Morty?”
“At home,” he plucked a clementine from the fruitbowl, “with his wife and kids.”
“And how about –”
He groaned loudly, “Can we ease up on the questions, Scar? I came for lunch, not an interrogation.”
I rolled my eyes. “Whatever rock star.”
He winked, turning to my friends. “Polly, Zayla. How are we?”
A flush rose from Zay’s neck. Polly, as usual, was unaffected. I felt a hint of pride in that, seeing as she was a cutthroat real estate agent, one of the best (if not the best) in New York City. If anyone had the ambition I possessed, it was her. But with that ambition came the highest of standards, and no one seemed to fit the bar.
“Love will come,” I’d told her once.
“I’m not worried,” she replied.
Now, I’m not impressed easily, but I’d go as far as saying she was in a league of her own.
Much like Emory…
