The Stopover (The Miles High Club 1)

Great. I drag my hand down my face. Seriously, what next? This is the last thing I need.

“Here you go.” The waiter smiles as he puts my iced tea down in front of me.

“Thank you.” I watch the driver across the road as he leans on the limo, and I think back to the other night when I was on my knees, and he tried to open the door, and it was locked. I wonder how long he’s worked for him, how much he’s seen. I watch as he answers the phone and then gets in the car and drives off.

Huh? Was Jameson already inside the car? Why did he drive off?

That’s weird . . .

The front doors of the building open, and a group of men walk out. Shit, it’s them. I pick up the menu and cover my face as I peer through the window and across the street.

Tristan, Elliot, Christopher, and Jameson . . . and the blonde girl who was with Tristan the other night. She’s super trendy, and her work clothes look like they belong in a modeling shoot. The boys look so similar. Elliot is the most like Jameson, with dark hair and piercing blue eyes. Then Tristan and Christopher look alike, lighter hair with a curl. They’re talking as they walk, and Jameson says something with a straight face, and they all laugh out loud.

What did he say?

They walk around the corner. Elliot puts his hand affectionately on Jameson’s back as they cross the road while deep in conversation. I watch them walk up the street and then into a cocktail bar.

I pinch the bridge of my nose and close my eyes with a huge sad sigh.

Ugh, I just want this day to be over.

It’s amazing what a weekend and some sleep can do for a girl. I march into the building on Monday like the most powerful woman on earth. “Good morning.” The security guard smiles as I walk through the security screen.

“Morning.” I smile. “Lovely day, isn’t it?”

“Sure is.” He winks as I walk past him.

To hell with Jameson Miles.

So what? We had sex. So what? It was great. But guess what? I don’t care.

I’m not letting him dull my New York shine. I moved here to start a new and exciting life, and to be honest, the first three weeks have been pretty amazing . . . well, except last week. But I’m scratching that from the record, so it doesn’t actually count.

I’m moving onward and upward, and twelve months from now I’ll probably look back at this and laugh.

I make it to my floor to find Ava and her friend Renee talking by the elevator. “Hi, girls.”

“Hi.” Ava smiles. “How are you?”

“Good. Great, actually. What are you guys up to?”

“We’re discussing where we want to go this weekend.”

“Oh.”

“Hey, you should come clubbing with us,” she offers.

“Really?”

“Yeah, for sure. We have a blast.”

“You know what? I’d love to.” I smile.

“Awesome.” She takes her phone out of her pocket and puts my number in. “We usually meet up about eight or nine on Saturday night.”

“For dinner first?” I ask.

“No.” She smirks. “We eat mac and cheese before we go out and then buy hella expensive drinks. Priorities.”