Way Off Plan (Firsts and Forever 1)

“Wow,” he said, raising an eyebrow. “Your ex is an idiot.”

“Yeah, I know. Like the whole hetero thing could possibly work out well.”

“That’s not why he’s an idiot. It’s because he didn’t take you to bed every single day that the two of you were together. What a wasted opportunity! And definitely his loss.”

I smiled at him. “Thanks for saying that.”

“It’s a simple fact.”

Dmitri and I contemplated each other for a long moment. And then he said hesitantly, “Would you please have that drink with me?”

I knew that in all likelihood, this man was a criminal. He was someone I absolutely should not get involved with. He was potentially dangerous – maybe even a killer, for all I knew.

But he was looking at me now with such raw vulnerability, with such undisguised hope, that it made my heart flip over in my chest. Ok, so maybe the whole sweet-and-vulnerable thing was an act – in which case, he was a frighteningly good actor. But God, if it was real, if anything he was saying or doing contained even a grain of truth, then I had to know him. I had to be with this person. I ached for him with every part of me, and I just was not going to deny myself this.

I reached out and took his hand in mine, and said, “I’d love to.” He smiled at that, and I grabbed my keys and jacket and we walked hand in hand back toward the club. It felt so natural to hold his hand, and so incredibly good to be close to him – surprisingly so.

At the club we headed around to the back of the building, where a big guy with a secret service-style earpiece snapped to attention when he saw his employer. Dmitri said, “I’m going to be in the garden, and I want absolutely no interruptions. Make sure everyone knows that.”

“Yes sir.”

The man held the door open for us, and we entered the building and climbed three flights of stairs, then cut through a tastefully decorated office before finally emerging onto the roof of the nightclub.

The scene was right out of a movie. A lush rooftop garden was hung with strand after strand of white light bulbs, clusters of potted plants and wooden patio furniture with plush white cushions punctuating the space. “Wow,” I murmured, and then I smiled. “If you’re bringing me up here to seduce me, you’re laying it on a bit thick.”

“I’m not bringing you here to seduce you,” he told me, leading me by the hand across the space to a little outdoor kitchen. He popped open a mini fridge and handed me the same brand of beer I’d been drinking in the club. And he said, “I’m bringing you here to get you drunk.” He winked at me and grabbed a beer for himself, then took me to the far end of the rooftop garden, where we settled onto a comfortable love seat.

Only now did I glance up, away from the beautiful man and the beautiful setting, and gaped at the stunning vista before me. From the club’s hilltop location you could see a lot of the bay, the Golden Gate Bridge and the Marin headlands. “That’s some view,” I murmured. “If it was light out, I could probably tell how the waves were breaking at Fort Point from here.”

“You surf?”

“Yup. Since I was little.”

“I’m impressed. That always seemed incredibly risky to me.”

“That’s kind of funny, coming from you.” In his line of work, he couldn’t very well be the cautious type.

He knew what I was referring to, and sighed quietly as he stared out at the bay. And then he said, “You have me at a disadvantage. My reputation has obviously preceded me, and I have to wonder what you know, or think you know, about me. Whereas I know very little about you. I don’t even know if you go by James or Jim or Jimmy.”

“None of the above. I go by Jamie,” I told him, then turned to study his classically perfect profile. “How do you know my name?”

“I make it my business to know who’s in my club. When your i.d. was scanned upon entry to the VIP lounge, I got a message on my cell phone showing me your driver’s license.”

“That’s got to violate several privacy laws,” I told him lightly, still looking at him as he gazed at the view. “And I don’t know how you remembered my i.d. in particular, given how many people were in the club.”

He turned to me now and flashed me that brilliant smile, dimples and all. And he said, “I always remember the truly beautiful ones.”

I rolled my eyes at him and said, “Don’t start pulling that flirty playboy shit on me now, Teplov. Just when I was starting to like you.” He looked concerned for a moment, then grinned happily when I winked at him and slid closer and rested his head on my shoulder.