VERSUS (Second Chances 2)

Apparently, Eden’s client can’t.

I listen as she answers the phone in a cheery tone. “Troy? How are you?”

She rises to her feet, tossing me a wave as she points at her watch.

Chatting to the bastard about their next meeting, she turns to walk away.

Some of my questions were answered tonight, but not all. I’ll get Eden alone again before week’s end and when I do, business will be the last thing on my mind.

Chapter 14

Eden

I had a feeling Dylan would show up here.

I’m back at Veil East. Part of the reason is my ongoing search for a witness for the Alcester case. The other part is the music and the dance floor.

Back in Buffalo, I have a regular club that I go to when I want to blow off some steam.

I can have a drink, dance, and socialize with the people I work with in a safe environment.

Dancing is fuel for my soul.

The car accident derailed my plan to earn a living dancing, but I never lost my passion for it.

Dylan tosses me a wave from the stool he’s set himself on near the bar.

I wave back, trying not to stare.

He’s wearing gray slacks and a black V-neck sweater. A few strands of his hair are brushing his forehead.

It’s ridiculous how gorgeous the man is.

He called the office earlier today to check on Kurt. He spoke to Mrs. Burton. She relayed the good news. Kurt’s surgery this morning was a success. He’ll be home early next week and back at work within the month.

I invited Noelle to come with me tonight to celebrate, but she chose sleep over dance.

I can’t blame her. I saw the weariness in her eyes when I got home from work today. Relief washed over her expression when she blurted out that her dad was awake and alert enough to ask for a cheeseburger with extra bacon.

“Red is your color.”

I turn my head to find a man next to me. He’s blond, cute, and definitely younger than me.

“You think?” I spin in a circle to show off the wrap dress I love to wear when I’m dancing.

“I know.” He flashes me a devilish grin. “You’re beautiful.”

I’m tempted to look over at Dylan, but I don’t owe him a thing.

We share a platonic past and a one-night stand.

I wasn’t his first. I know I won’t be his last.

For all I know, he’s already mid-pick-up tonight.

“I’m Hank.” The blond man in the black suit and tie offers a hand to me. “What’s your name?”

I’d ask him if it matters, but I think to him it might.