Page 12 of The First Deal

Violet laughed. “Fuck you, Hudson. See you next week.”

Staring back at my phone I saluted her and typed out my reply to the raven-haired beauty as Violet’s heels clacked down the stairs.

Shane:Not dead yet, Cariño. But what a way to go. Shane Hudson.

Her reply came through almost instantly.

Hannah:Just awful at texting then. I shouldn’t be surprised, you’re practically a dinosaur.

She was right, I was awful at texting. It wasn’t my preferred form of contact, I was a classic phone call kind of guy unless it was work-related, and for that, Ineededto keep up with the times. I also rarely needed to text women after our encounters, or even wanted to, but as I smiled at her teasing words, I found myself tapping away in response, message after message pinging back and forth between us until I was dragged back to the present by a loud notification on my laptop.

An email came through with the details of my flight out to Rome on Saturday morning. I read over it twice, then confirmed and unexpectedly went back to my phone, frowning at the blank screen, wondering where my playful little barmaid had gone.

Kicking my feet up and lounging back, I decided that work wasn’t my priority today, I had lost my focus, and honestly, there was nothing overly pressing to be done anyway. Lynda would be in no mood to hear about Nate again until I had dealt with Leo, so I had time to push that task to the back of my mind.

I closed my eyes and bathed in the warmth of the sun for what felt like hours. Yet, when I looked at my phone, I saw that it had only been thirty minutes, and I still had no notifications.

For some reason, that bothered me, and instead of tossing my phone on the lounger and closing my eyes again, or even heading back over to the bar to fix myself a fresh drink, I pulled up her number. I had no idea what I was doing, or why I felt so compelled to press that little green icon on the screen, but before I knew it, her voice was echoing down the line, muffled and broken up by the loud bar and shitty signal.

“Can’t talk… break in… call me then?” Hannah said.

“I can’t hear you.”

She came through a little clearer when she spoke again. “Get in trouble… I’ll call… important or…”

The line was quiet for a while, bar the background noise, so I presumed that she had finished what she was trying to say.

“Look at… text… bye.” With that, she hung up.

Frowning with confusion, I dropped my phone onto my lap. On the upside, she wasn’t ignoring me, but on the downside, I had just called her during work. What kind of person does that? Knowing full well that she was probably run off her feet, what with it being a Saturday in the middle of summer. She worked at a bar on the beach, she probably hadn’t had a minute to catch her breath, let alone reply to me.

Why the hell had I even called her anyway?

I glanced up at the burning white ball in the sky and decided to blame it for my behaviour. I must have heatstroke or something, to be acting so out of character. I didn’t know this girl, not really, she was just some sweet thing who I had met in a bar, no different from at least half of the women who had fallen into my bed.

Except this one didn’t fall, did she? She had walked the fuck away after I had satisfied her. Not that I had expected her to come home with me, but… I had wanted her to. I still wanted her to.

I was thinking with my dick. I was crazy from the sun, and horny from the thought of her, that was all.

Deciding that I should head inside, I packed up my stuff and shoved my phone into my pocket, not checking it this time, convincing myself that I didn’t need to, no matter how my fingers twitched.

Back inside, I filled a tall glass with ice-cold water from the fridge, then headed to the bathroom, thinking that a refreshing, cool shower would help. I needed to wash off the lingering scent of Vi anyway.

Just as I began to lather soap over my chest, my phone started to ring, vibrating loudly against the marble counter beside the sink. I pushed open the glass door of the shower, and without paying attention to the caller ID, I jabbed the screen, answering the call and putting it on speaker, expecting it to be my business partner, as usual.

“Is this important?” I called out, stepping back under the water but not closing the door.

“I dunno, T-Rex, you’re the one who called me.”

The surprising sound of Hannah’s teasing voice had me biting my lip. “When I said you could call me whatever you wanted, I didn’t think you’d settle on a dinosaur.”

“I did tell you that you’d left yourself open for insults.” Her voice was so velvety as she spoke, her words highlighted with a little laugh. “Anyway, youdidcall me, so, what’s up? Also, what’s that noise? Are you in the shower?”

Oh. Yeah. “Yeah, I am. And I was calling about your car’s extended warranty,” I said, cringing at my own words, because I had literally no idea why I had called.

But then she laughed, a genuine, not in the slightest bit pitying, laugh.

“Come on, Mr Hudson”—Fuck me, that was hot, why the fuck was that so hot?—“tell me why you really called?”

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