Playboy Billionaire
Women, I thought, dipping my head back under the water and rubbing a thick handful of shampoo into my hair. Can’t live with ‘em, can’t live without ‘em.
An hour later, I was starting to feel almost human again. The headache had returned as soon as I’d climbed out of the shower, but I’d managed to starve it off with a couple of aspirin and a big jug of water. The blonde had left, thankfully, but not before inscribing a hideously rude note and leaving it on top of the dresser. Not to mention that, of course, she’d taken all of the cash I had stored there for moments like this.
I didn’t mind – money wasn’t a huge deal to me, as I had tons of it – but I could have easily done without her attitude. Groaning, I ripped the towel away from my chiseled abs and tossed it on the floor. I rubbed some pomade in my hands, then pushed my hair away from my forehead. With a smirk, I reached for my phone and dialed my best buddy, Brett.
“Yo,” Brett said. He sounded amused – I knew he was smirking just from the tone of his voice. “What’s up?”
I yawned. “I need a drink,” I grumbled. “This little bitch I brought home had the nerve to spend the night.”
Brett burst out laughing. I narrowed my eyes.
“Fuck you,” I said. “Meet me at Paddy’s in twenty minutes.”
“Whoa, whoa,” Brett said. “Take it easy, man. How the hell do you know I don’t already have plans?”
I rolled my eyes. “Because you’re the same as me,” I said in exasperation. “And we never have plans before dark.”
Brett’s hearty laughter was the last sound I heard before hanging up.
Paddy’s, our favorite bar in New York, had been our number one haunt for years. We had a rule – we never took girls there. We’d only meet in the middle of the day. I’d never been there after dark. I wondered if it turned into a different kind of place. In the daylight, Paddy’s was pretty seedy. It was your typical faux-Irish “pub,” but the whiskey flowed like water and the bartenders were all cute and had the gift of knowing exactly when to talk and flirt, and when to leave us alone.
I already had a feeling that today was one of the latter days. As I took the elevator down to the ground floor of my building, I couldn’t shake a nagging sense of dread. I wasn’t sure if it was because of the blonde, either. Sure, she’d really pissed me off. But I couldn’t even remember last night – how did I know that I hadn’t done something stupid, like invited her up?
Jesus, Justin, I thought as I climbed in the back of a waiting cab. You’re really messed up. What the fuck is the matter? Even though I didn’t love hangovers, they normally didn’t make me this grouchy. It was like I had literally woken up on the wrong side of the bed. Something was really wrong, and if I didn’t figure it out soon, I was going to be in deep shit.
The dark, grimy interior of Paddy’s was a relief. That was one of the reasons why I liked the bar so much – it was a dive, and no woman I’d wronged would think to look for me there. Furthermore, it was frequented by a lot of finance types – rich guys in suits with smug grins and pints of ale. Brett and I fit right in.
Brett was sitting at the bar, alone, his fingers wrapped around a sweating glass of beer. I grinned when I saw him, then loped up to the bar and sat down on an adjoining stool.
“Hey, man,” Brett said. He had dark circles under his puffy eyes – a clear sign of a hangover that was almost as bad as mine.
“Nothin’ doing,” I said. Flagging down the bartender, I ordered a beer. “What a fucking morning,” I said. “Arguing with that little bitch really took it out of me.”
Brett nodded. “Women,” he mumbled under his breath.
The bartender still hadn’t seen me. Annoyed, I whistled and slapped my palm down on the bar.
“Hey, girlie,” I called. “I’m here, and I need a drink.”
She turned around and stared. It wasn’t one of the usual girls – she must have been a new hire. And she was smoking hot.
“I don’t like being talked to in that tone,” she said, walking over and rolling her eyes. She had red hair, deep blue eyes, and a curvy little figure that I would have loved to get in my bed.
“Well, tough shit, princess,” I said with a cocky smirk. “I want a beer. Now.”
The girl rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I heard you the first time,” she said. “I’m in the middle of something. Give me a minute.”
Brett burst out laughing. “You don’t talk to my buddy like that,” he told her, his voice menacing and low. “We’re regulars here. Paddy’s wouldn’t want to lose us as customers. Trust me, honey.”
The girl stared. “You really think you can intimidate me?”
Brett leaned over the bar and before I could stop him, he swatted her ass. The girl cried out and jumped into the air, her pale cheeks flushing scarlet red.
“Yeah,” Brett said with a satisfied smirk. “You do as you’re told. Now, get my buddy a beer before he dies of thirst.”
The bartender glared at him, then turned her venom on me. “You’ll be sorry,” she said, pointing a finger in the air and jabbing it on my chest.
I snickered. “I bet,” I said. “And make it a light, okay? I’m already feeling bloated from last night.”