Blake opened the door to his room and shoved the shopping bag under his bed. “Unbelievable.”
“What, you think I came up with that gift idea on my own? Don’t worry. Liv won’t tell.”
“If Farrah finds out before her birthday, I will kill you in the most painful way possible.”
Sammy didn’t seem concerned. “You are so gone. It’s adorable. Really.”
“Get out of my room.”
“Maybe you should’ve bought her a diamond instead.”
Blake shoved the other boy into the hall and slammed the door in his face.
“You’re welcome!” Sammy shouted through the door.
“The most painful way possible!” Blake reminded him. He waited until Sammy’s laughter and footsteps faded before he flopped onto his bed and opened his laptop. He had a movie date with Farrah in a few hours, but first things first: email.
The search for a home for the bar was in full swing. There wasn’t a lot Blake could do from Shanghai, so Landon was scoping out potential rental spaces while Blake sorted out their business registration.
His stomach fluttered as he looked over the documents. Even after he created his business plan, owning a bar seemed like more of a dream than reality. Now, that dream was becoming more concrete by the day.
Take that, dad. Blake couldn’t wait to see his father’s face at the grand opening. It was going to be epic.
A new email notification popped up. Landon. The subject line: round three.
Blake opened the dozen or so attached images. Landon had been busy scouting places. He wished he could’ve been on the ground with his friend, but for now, photos would have to do.
Blake dove into dissecting the layouts, the lighting, the square footage, and whether it fit what he envisioned for the space. The one with the loft intrigued him. It was the most expensive of the lot, but the upstairs area would make a sick game room. He could deck it out with a pool table, darts, shuffleboard, the works. The beer pong tournaments at Gino’s were always popular. Maybe he’d use the space to host weekly bar sports Olympics. People who liked sports were competitive—they would eat that shit up.
Blake was so engrossed in the blueprints time slipped away. When he checked the clock again, two hours had passed.
“Shit!”
Farrah would kill him if he were late. Movie previews were her favorite part.
He was about to shut his laptop when another notification popped up. This time it was an iMessage from Cleo.
Are you busy?
Blake’s heart stopped. He hadn’t heard from Cleo since New Year’s. He’d thought of reaching out to her a few times—more out of hope she’d change her account of what happened than an actual desire to talk to her—but something stopped him each time.
His fingers hovered over the keyboard. He could ignore the message. He was already running late for his date with Farrah.
No. I’m free, Blake typed.
Morbid curiosity compelled him to stay. What prompted Cleo to contact him after weeks of radio silence?
Great. I’ll Skype you.
The unease in Blake’s stomach grew as he accepted the Skype call.
Cleo’s face filled the screen.
“Long time no see.” He attempted to lighten the mood. They were thousands of miles apart, but the air between them crackled with tension.
“That’s because you’re in Shanghai.” Cleo looked paler than usual. She’d tossed her hair into a messy ponytail—a sure sign she wasn’t feeling well—and tension lined her mouth.
“I’m well aware.”