Darian watched as Alex got lost in his thoughts and spoke as if he were talking to himself.

“Yes, I told her. But only after Angel ended the call, of course. I couldn’t say anything while she had Whitney on the phone.”

Alex sat back in his chair and turned sharply toward Darian. “What? You didn’t use my name did you? I don’t need my personal bullshit under public scrutiny, Darian.”

“Relax, Alex. I’m not stupid. Whitney used your first name, and I didn’t mention your surname or Avery Enterprises. I told Angel that you’re a very focused individual and you were upfront when you got into one of your arrangements.”

“Arrangements? She probably thinks I’m a dick.”

“Yeah, so?” Darian’s tone was sardonic and he smirked. “Aren’t they? Arrangements?”

Alex couldn’t argue, but that didn’t mean he wasn’t chagrined, but he was amused by the direction of their conversation and, against his better judgment, intrigued by the faceless Angel. “And? What was her opinion?”

Darian’s lips lifted slightly; amused that his friend seemed so interested in something he professed not to give a shit about.

“She doesn’t believe that you don’t know that you’re hurting these women. I think her exact words were: ‘your friend clearly knows how this shit works, hence his carefully laid out escape clause,’” Darian mocked with a quirk of his lips.

Alex leaned his elbows on the bar as a slow, devious grin spread across his face. “It’s too bad she’s probably stiff, closeted, and frigid as hell. I think my dick just got hard.” He looked down at his glass and chuckled out loud.

Darian burst out laughing. He knew that intelligence was what Alex needed in a woman. Maybe he’d open up his heart and mind to more than just a sexual relationship if he could find someone to stimulate him above the belt. If there was anything that turned Alex on, it was a challenge.

“You don’t even know what she looks like. God help you, then, because, you’ll be in a world of hurt. And, her wit is sharp as hell.”

“Whatever,” Alex dismissed, but his phone intruded into his musings again. He pulled it out of his pocket and flipped it open.


Alex, get your ass over here now, or it’s OVER!

“Ugh, fuck. D, I have to go. And, Cole is in danger of getting his cock cut off by that banshee. Can you make sure to get him home? They’re doing some serious damage to each other down there.” Alex nodded his head in Cole’s direction and shook it in disapproval. “The family doesn’t need any bad publicity because he can’t control his johnson. I love my brother, but he doesn’t always think with his head.”

“Oh? The text must have been from your lady,” Darian speculated and took another long pull on his beer. Alex outwardly cringed at the words ‘his lady’, not really sure how to classify her anymore, but surely the screaming shrew she’d become certainly didn’t fit that profile.

“Apparently, she isn’t taking your girl’s advice. I’m being summoned or it’s over,” Alex said with blasé sarcasm. He was not looking forward to that conversation. With a roll of his eyes, he slammed the rest of his drink and walked over to Cole, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Cole, I gotta bounce. See you on Sunday.”

“Dude! Don’t go, Alex. Things are just starting to happen. This is Ruby,” Cole said happily, his speech slurred by the amount of alcohol he’d consumed in the past two hours. Alex’s eyes drifted over the redhead that was draped around his brother’s neck and took note how her blue eyes looked him up and down. He felt disgusted as he acknowledged the woman. She was elegantly dressed with bright red polish on her long fingernails, but Alex felt bile rise in his throat. She might look expensive, but Alex knew trash when he saw it. Her blatant appraisal of his dark good looks made it clear that she’d move on to a better offer without thinking twice.

“Nice to meet you. Goodnight, Cole.”

It’s bitches like that who make me avoid relationships like the plague. Just like Whitney. If Alex were honest with himself, he had to admit it. So fake, so grasping and calculating, Alex thought as he turned and walked out. It was obvious that Ruby wasn’t interested in Cole. He was just her next victim, and she would have dropped him like a hot potato if I’d snapped my fingers.

“It’s no fucking wonder I’m the way I am,” he muttered under his breath as he walked the four blocks to the garage where his car was parked. “No fucking wonder.”

* * *

As he drove the few miles to Whitney’s apartment, Alex tried to dig up some feeling for the woman he’d been sleeping with for the past year and a half. Sure, she was beautiful, but she was shallow. She was more interested in shopping than what was going on in the world, and she bored the shit out of him. He sighed heavily for letting her physical attributes sway him in the first place. He’d desired her and so he took her. It was easy, like everything else in his life. Sure, he worked his ass off, but making money out of nothing was what he loved best, and he was good at it. That was easy for him, too.

After leaving his Audi with the valet, he swiped the key card in the security door, and the doorman greeted him.

“Good evening, Mr. Avery.”

“Good evening, George. How have you been?”

“Good, sir. It’s been a while. Nice to see you.”

Alex nodded. Yes, it had been a while. At least a month since he’d been there. “You, too.”

He straightened his suit jacket and pulled on the cuffs of both of his sleeves as he watched the lights in the elevator climb to the eleventh floor of the upscale apartment building.

He’d met Whitney through his sister two years ago, and after several phone calls and a couple of obvious occasions where she’d dropped by his office, he’d finally asked her out to dinner. Alex shook his head, remembering. He should have his head examined for being so easily called into play. She had a great body and the sex had been good, but they had nothing of real substance to talk about. Whitney worked at an art gallery downtown and was constantly trying to get Alex to purchase some god-awful piece from whoever her newest client was. One of the closets in his spare bedroom was shoved full of the damn things.

Alex ran a hand over the back of his neck as he approached the door and sighed heavily. For what he hoped would be the last time, he took out his key and put it in the lock. As he pushed the large oak door open, he heard music coming from the bedroom. A lone light in the hall cast an eerie glow into the living and dining rooms. The apartment was small but very expensive, and he’d shelled out loads of money on the furnishings that Whitney wanted. Alex glanced around and quickly moved across the room to the bar, taking off his black Armani suit jacket, and loosening his green silk tie as he went.

He pulled out a glass and added ice and two fingers of scotch before he heard Whitney behind him.

“Well, well… to what do I owe this honor?” she asked snidely.

Alex’s mouth tightened. He had no time or inclination to play games. “You asked me to show up. I’m here.” He glanced over his shoulder before he slammed his drink and picked up the scotch bottle to refill it. “Or was that message meant for someone else?” He laughed coldly. “The closing led me to believe it was for me, and if you’re expecting me to play nice, your greeting was sorely lacking.” Alex was numb. Not uncomfortable, not nervous, not… moved. He just didn’t give a fuck.

He tensed when she came up behind him and started to slide her hands around his waist. Considering her pissy demeanor, this wasn’t what he was expecting, but her nearness did nothing for him as she molded herself against his back.

“What is it you wanted?” His voice was flat as he twisted out of her hold and moved to a chair in front of the big glass window in the living room. The lights of downtown Chicago flickered as he sank down into its softness. Alex’s mind raced with what to do about an almost unbearable situation. He itched to get the fuck out of there and never deal with this shit again. Or, it could be just like the hundred other nights he’d spent in this apartment. A few drinks, they’d fuck, and then… nothing. He’d get up and leave and that would be the end of it… but tonight, he wanted it to be the end. For good.

She followed him and knelt down behind the chair.

“Whitney. Answer the goddamned question. What—do—you—want?”

She reached around and ran a hand down his chest, turning her head and pulling his earlobe into her mouth and raking it with her teeth, trying to get a reaction out of him. If he closed his eyes, he could let it happen, but did he really want to? He pulled away just enough for her mouth to leave his skin.

“So, you want to fuck?” Alex asked bluntly over his shoulder. His tone was sour and it sounded harsh, even to his own ears. He felt dead inside, indifferent. He could take it or leave it.

She froze. “No. I want you to give a shit about me. I want you to stop fucking around with your friends,” she said harshly.

“We’ve been over this countless times. The conversation is getting old.” He lifted her hand off of his body and flung it aside, and she gasped in response.

Her voice turned sickeningly sweet as she changed her tack, and her hands returned to his chest again. “Alex, I want you to make love to me…” she purred, as she started to pull his tie completely undone and open a couple of the buttons on his white shirt. His hand came up to cover hers and stop her movement. He stood up, effectively breaking the contact and took a few steps toward the window, away from her.