Page 20 of Screwed
“We’re still friends,” he explained, keeping his tone light. Cash grabbed his suit jacket from the back of his chair and made a face. “I gotta go dust off my tux.”
He walked to the elevator and rode down with them. Brent and Jose got out on the main floor. “You guys have a good weekend.”
“Yeah, you, too, Cash.”
The elevator continued to the underground parking garage, where he’d left his truck. He zoomed out onto the West Loop moments later. Traffic on Memorial was insane and had him smacking his steering wheel more than once. Finally he was at his condo. It wasn’t that far from Callie’s house, and the country club wasn’t far, either, as long as traffic cooperated, but they were never going to make it there by six.
He stripped off his clothes, pausing to rub his jaw in front of the mirror, debating a clean-shaven look for tonight. Nah, no time. The stubble would have to do.
With an eye on the alarm clock next to the bed, he quickly dressed in the tux he pulled from the back of the walk-in closet, fiddling with his goddamn cuff links. He shoved his feet into his best black Lucchese boots, grabbed his wallet and keys, and headed to the door.
Soon he was at Callie’s, ringing the bell. The door swung open right away, as if she’d been watching for him, which she probably had since he was late.
“Hi!” She eyed him. “You look great.”
“Thanks. Uh, you, too.” That was an understatement. She looked fucking edible in a short purple beaded dress, her long dark hair in loose waves around her face. His hands itched to reach for her, and he curled his fingers around his keys until they dug into his skin painfully, clamping down on a hot surge of need. “Sorry I’m late. We should get going.”
“Oh, come in for a minute.” She stepped back. “We can be fashionably late.”
Yeah, he had never fully understood the rules about punctuality and fashionable lateness. In his mind, when you were supposed to be there at six, you were there at six. Sometimes that was required, like at a theater event, and sometimes showing up right on time made you look like a dork. But he trusted Callie’s judgment when it came to things like that.
He followed her into the kitchen, his gaze dropping to the back of her dress where the neckline curved down low on her spine and the tight skirt hugged her ass, then lower to her bare legs in strappy high-heeled sandals. He swallowed and tugged at his tie.
She sauntered over to unplug her cell phone. The island was covered with boxes and a couple of cake stands holding layer cakes covered with glass domes.
“You’ve been busy.”
Callie grimaced and shoved her phone into a black satin purse. “Yes.” She tucked the purse under her arm and picked up a big box. “Here. These are for you.”
Seriously, she was trying to give him a heart attack. “Will they be okay in the truck while we’re inside?”
Her forehead creased. “No. You’re right. We’ll just leave them here, and you can pick them up when you bring me home.”
“Sounds good.”
“Want a drink?” She lifted a bottle of Maker’s Mark.
He spotted the glass on the counter with a trace of amber liquid in the bottom and a smudge of pink lipstick on the edge. Apparently she’d already had one. “No thanks. I’ll wait till we’re there.”
She shrugged and splashed some bourbon into the glass. “Okay.” She tossed back the contents of the glass and clinked it down on the marble. “Let’s go.”
He grinned. “Liquid courage, darlin’?”
Her smile was luminous. “Maybe.”
He pulled up in front of the country club and climbed out of his Ford truck. At one time he might have been embarrassed at his unpretentious ride, compared to the luxury vehicles others were arriving in, but hell, now he had more than enough money to drive an Escalade if that was what he wanted. He just didn’t choose to, and anyone who’d look down their nose at him for that didn’t matter to him. He left his door open for the valet, who climbed in to take the vehicle and park it.
He set his hand on the small of Callie’s back as they entered the country club. She immediately saw people she knew and began the ritual of exchanging air kisses and compliments and “How’s your mama?”s. Cash shook hands as she introduced him. Then he ran into a client and made introductions. As he gave Callie’s name, it occurred to him how bizarre it was that he was introducing his business partner’s ex-wife, and this client had no idea who she was.
They made their way toward an area where wineglasses hung from the ceiling, sparkling glass flutes suspended with multicolored ribbons. For a donation, they got to choose a glass and have it filled with champagne. Callie started to open her purse, but he waved her away and handed over some bills.
Callie gazed up at the various glasses before finally selecting one. Cash just motioned to the nearest one. With full glasses in their hands, they turned to each other, alone in the crowd for a moment. He lifted his glass and touched the rim gently to hers. “Cheers.”
She met his eyes as she sipped. “Thanks for doing this, Cash. We don’t have to stay long.”
“Well, we’re not leaving before we’ve had food. And it better be good.”
Her lips twitched at his teasing. “Okay then.”
