“What?”
“Well.” He clears his throat. “Cohen stopped by tonight.”
My stomach drops, but I keep my expression neutral. “Okay.”
“I might have mentioned that I spoke to you… and that you were planning on coming by.”
“Did you?”
“He said he’s been trying to get ahold of you,” Iggy chimes in, and I look between both men.
“Is he here now?” I wait, every muscle in my body feeling tight.
“No, but he left his number, asked if I could give it to you.”
“I don’t need his number, and I don’t want to come across like a bitch, but I’m here for work.”
“Right,” Tracy says softly, looking over my shoulder at his brother. I don’t know what the look he gives him means, but I can guess they are both thinking I’m full of shit and still hung up on Cohen, which I’m not. I just don’t want anything to do with him. My past with him is right where it needs to be—firmly in my rearview mirror.
I glance at my watch and see it’s two minutes after nine. “I need to get out there and meet my client. We’ll have a drink sometime and catch up.”
“Sure,” Iggy says, while Tracy lifts his chin.
“It’s been good seeing you both.” I move around Tracy and head toward a closed door, feeling the thump of music as I get closer, the noise almost deafening as I push into the bar on the other side. The smell of fried food and stale alcohol making me feel almost nostalgic.
I don’t glance at the bar, as I walk across the dance floor, even though I could totally use a shot of tequila right about now. Scanning the area, I spot Maxim right off, sitting at a table in the back, half hidden by the shadows, with a glass of amber liquid in front of him. His appearance has changed over the years. Now, instead of an attractive boy, he’s a man with an air of authority and arrogance that is seriously appealing even from a distance.
As I get closer, I slow my steps, wanting to take a moment to study him, but his head turns in my direction, and our eyes lock. I might have been prepared for this, but I’m not prepared for the zap of electric heat I feel against my skin as a flicker of something that makes me warm flashes through his dark eyes. He leans forward, causing the light-gray button-down shirt he has on to stretch across his broad chest and thick arms, and he raises a brow—in a challenge?
Reminding myself that I deal with men I find good-looking all the time, I pull myself together and walk across the room, closing the space between us and watching him stand.
“April,” his deep voice rumbles, and a tingle slides down my spine and right between my legs. “Still beautiful.”
Okay, so this might be an issue.
“Maxim.” I get close and grab his hard bicep as he leans down to place a kiss on my cheek, the scent of him and the coarse scruff on his jaw sending my hormones into overdrive.
“Sit,” he orders, holding out a chair. Once my ass is firmly in the seat, he towers over me. “What would you like to drink?”
“Water please.”
“Be right back.” His hand slides across the top of my shoulders as he walks away, his touch burning my skin. I take a deep breath, then another as I watch him saunter to the bar, every woman in the place turning to check him out as he passes. Needing something to do, I pull out the file for the bar from my bag and start to look over the information Frank sent me. Not surprising, the bar makes a killing most months, with the overhead pretty low, considering the amount of employees on staff.
“Your water.” Maxim places a glass down in front of me before he takes his seat.
“Were you waiting long?” I pick up my glass and take a sip.
“Not long.” He places his arm on the back of the chair next to him while his thick fingers circle the mouth of his glass.
“So what do you think about this place?”
“It’s nice. Not really my style, but this is Nashville, not Vegas.”
“You’re right about that.” I shift on my seat, trying to remember if a man has ever made me this aware before, and my mind flashes back in time. At sixteen he made me nervous, but now I know how to handle a good-looking man. “I should tell you that if you purchase this place with plans to change the vibe, that will not go over well. People who live here and those that come into town are all about jeans, beer, and country music. Not fancy dresses and champagne.”
“I wouldn’t change anything.” He takes a drink from his glass, his eyes never leaving mine.