Christian (The Casanova Club Book 11) Page 5

  “It’s complicated.”

  “Do you like him enough to spare him from the blonde in the tight pink dress?”

  I glanced back in Christian’s direction. He’d attracted new company. The young woman in pink wore giant hoop earrings and silver high heels that gave her an extra six inches of height. She still only came to his chin.

  “I’m sure he can handle himself. She’s not really his type.”

  The bartender scoffed.

  “What?” I asked.

  “Nothing. But maybe stop wasting your evening sitting here with me. Go get him.” The bartender pushed away from the bar. “Besides, this is cruel what you’re doing.”

  “And what is it exactly that I’m doing?”

  “Sitting at my bar when I can’t have you.” He tipped his chin toward Christian. “Now get out of here, pretty girl.” He handed me back my Manhattan. There were only a couple of sips left, and I was anxious about approaching Christian and his crew of very well educated, sophisticated Harvard professors.

  How was I supposed to hold my own in a crowd like that?

  I swallowed.

  The bartender stole my glass from me again. “Tell you what. You sit and get your bearings. I’ll make you another drink on the house to calm the nerves.”

  “You’re a good man.”

  He winked at me. “Remember that if your boy lets you down, will you?”

  I nodded. He didn’t need to know I had a line of other men waiting for me to say yes to them at the end of the year. While he made me my drink, I stared after Christian.

  He had his back to me, but his head was turned to the side as the blonde in pink talked to him. She giggled about something, and he leaned back, visibly uninterested in her company.

  It was my opening. I knew it. The bartender seemed to know it too because he had my fresh Manhattan on the bar in record time. “Go get him,” he said.

  I slid off the barstool.

  Just as my heels hit the floor, Christian afforded a glance back at me. His expression was drawn, but when our eyes locked, he smiled softly. I smiled back.

  We’d been sharing little glances like this all evening. He knew I had a bit of stage fright about standing in front of his colleagues and talking to them. He’d already offered to find a booth for just the two of us, but I declined, assuring him this was perfectly fine. I had no issues being on my own for a bit.

  But now it was time to join the herd. I started walking toward them.

  I was a mere five or six feet away when my path was blocked by a coppery-haired young woman flagging down the second bartender who worked at this end of the bar.

  She spotted me and offered me a small smile. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to cut you off. But you gotta snag these bartenders while there’s no line, you know?”

  “Of course,” I said, smiling graciously.

  She pushed back from the bar and gestured at me. “Hey, you’re Christian’s date, right? Penny?”

  “Piper.”

  “Piper, yes of course. I’m so sorry.” She held out her hand, and I shook it. Her grip was firm and warm, and she had several plain gold rings on her right index finger. “I’m Heather. Christian and I have worked at Harvard together for the last five years. I teach English.”

  “Nice to meet you.”

  “You too.” Heather grinned. Then she held up a finger, asking for me to wait while she ordered her drink, a rum and coke, from the second bartender. While he saw to making it, she turned back toward me. “I wasn’t sure if you’d tag along tonight. Everyone has been eager to meet you, but Christian is so hush-hush about these kinds of things.”

  “I didn’t want him to have to miss a work event. It’s nice that you guys all try to get together like this.”

  Heather put her back to the bar and draped both elbows on it behind her as she surveyed her group. “It’s nice. I mean, not all of them are my idea of company I’d like to keep on a Friday evening, but beggars can’t be choosers, right?”

  “Right,” I said, not really sure what I was agreeing to.

  Her drink came up on the bar. She picked it up and took a sip. As the glass was pressed to her lips, I stole a look over her shoulder at Christian. We locked eyes. He smiled again and motioned for me to come join him. I nodded and mouthed the words, I’m trying.

  Heather lowered her glass. “So, tell me, Piper. What are your intentions with Christian?”

  One of my eyebrows arched, and I met her gaze.

  Heather laughed softly. “Sorry. That might have been a strong way to come out of the gate. It’s just that he’s a good friend of mine, and I want to protect his heart. You know?”

  “Sure,” I said slowly. “To be honest, we’re too early in our relationship for me to have intentions. Or for me to discuss them with someone I don’t know.”

  Heather blinked.

  I sipped my Manhattan.

  “Of course,” Heather said, recovering. “It’s just that he seems quite smitten with you.”

  My eyes slid back to Christian. He was in conversation with two male colleagues, and the three of them were laughing about something. His booming laugh rolled through the bar and made me smile. “Is he?”

  “Yes. And I hope he’s not getting ahead of himself.”

  I returned my attention to Heather. “Is there something you’d like to say to me?”

  She searched my eyes. I didn’t know what she was looking for.

  “Does this life feel right to you?” she asked. “Can you see yourself with him? Because Christian has worked very hard to get here, and I would hate for him to throw it all away on a girl who probably went to community college and likely works a customer service job because it’s all she’s qualified for.”

  My eyebrow arched higher, and I smiled.

  Heather looked like she might pop a blood vessel.

  She had no idea what I’d been through this year. She had no idea how many people had tried to step on me and make me feel small. Like Asher’s mother. She’d been the biggest bully of them all, and she hadn’t gotten under my skin.

  There was no way Heather would, either.

  “You know what’s good about working in customer service, Heather? It teaches you manners.” I swerved around her and marched toward Christian. I knew her eyes were burning holes in my back, and I knew I was being childish, but I didn’t give a damn.

  I was going to make a point.

  I tapped Christian on the shoulder.

  His smile was genuine and bright when he turned toward me and threaded an arm around my waist, pulling me into his side. I reached up and smoothed the collar of his shirt before lifting to the tip of my toes to whisper in his ear. “Can you introduce me to some of your friends?”

  It was a harmless question, but Heather didn’t need to know that.

  Christian ran his thumb in slow circles in the middle of my back as he told everyone my name, and then I proceeded to shake hands, trade smiles, and immerse myself in his social circle.

  Chapter 8

  Christian

  “What do you do for work, Piper?” one of my colleagues, Dwayne, asked curiously. He pressed his beer to his lips and tilted his head back as he waited for Piper to answer him.

  She looked up at me briefly. Her cheeks were rosy, but they had been since she joined me fifteen or so minutes ago. She looked so damn cute with her hair all curled and half pinned back. Her lips were deep fuchsia, and her eyes were lined in a thin stripe of black that flicked out on the outer corners, giving her a catlike look. Her cheeks shimmered with something she’d called highlighter when I commented on it, and the light dazzled her features whenever she moved.

  “Well,” Piper said slowly, crossing one ankle over the other. “My parents own a restaurant, and I help with that.”

  “Culinary,” Dwayne said, nodding slightly. “So you like to cook?”

  Piper beamed. “I love to cook.”

  Dwayne grinned. “You hear that, Christian? Your girl likes to cook. Sounds to me
like you don’t have any excuses as to why you can’t have some of us over to your place one of these nights.”

  “You’ve never hosted any of your colleagues?” Piper asked innocently.

  I shook my head. “No. I don’t want to let a bunch of scoundrels into my parents’ beautiful home.”

  Both Piper and Dwayne laughed. Then she went silent and reached for the small purse hanging from her shoulder by a gold chain. She snapped it open and stared down at her phone. A name I couldn’t make out flashed across the screen. She blinked up at me. “Sorry, I have to step out and take this.”

  “No worries,” I said.

  She’d already started walking away before the words left my mouth. I watched her weave through the tightly packed bodies. The bar was filling up, as it always did on Friday nights around ten o’clock. By the time midnight rolled around, some of the tables would be cleared for a dance floor, and this place would become more of a club than a bar. The music would change from soft rock to pop-rock, and the crowd would become drastically younger.

  That was always my cue to clear out.

  “She’s hot, man,” Dwayne said, nodding after Piper. “Like, way out of your league hot.”

  I laughed. “Don’t rub it in. I’m more than aware. Lucky for me, I don’t think she’s caught on yet.”

  “Lucky indeed.”

  I peered around Dwayne when I spotted Piper through the bar window out on the sidewalk. There were a lot of people out there, and she’d tucked herself up against the building. She had the phone to one side of her face, and she was plugging her other ear with her free hand.

  I wondered who it was.

  In the week and a half that she’d been here with me, I hadn’t seen her take a phone call. I hoped everything was okay.

  “I think I’m going to go check on her. Make sure she doesn’t need anything.”

  Dwayne nodded. “Go ahead, man.”

  I polished off the last few mouthfuls of my beer and put the empty bottle on the counter. As I turned to make my way to the door, my path was blocked by Heather, who greeted me with her charming smile and a light tap with her flat palm on my chest. “Where are you running off to so early?”

  “Oh, I wasn’t leaving, I was just—”

  “Uh huh. You always bail early, Christian. It’s like your calling card. But not tonight. Tonight, you’re staying out with us and having some drinks. I’ve been away too long to let my friends call an early night on me this evening. I want to dance.”

  “Dance?” I mused.

  “Yeah. You know? That thing people do when they’re among friends with their hips and their legs and their arms?” She waved her arms like one of those inflatable flailing guys outside car dealerships.

  I snorted. “I wouldn’t do that among friends or strangers.”

  “Rude.”

  “I’m trying to spare your dignity.”

  “What dignity?” Heather laughed. “Come on. Don’t be a poor sport. Stay awhile. Fun is good for you.”

  “I’m not leaving,” I said.

  “Oh. Where were you running off to then?”

  I nodded out the window at Piper. She was still on the phone, but she had her back toward me. “I was going to check on her.”

  Heather nodded. “Ah. Yes, of course. Well, go on then. Can’t leave your damsel on her own.”

  I patted her on the shoulder. “Thanks. Order me another beer, will you?”

  “Sure thing.”

  I slipped around Heather. The crowd seemed to be thickening by the minute as I pressed my way to the doors. When I broke out onto the sidewalk, I sucked in a deep breath of cool evening air. It felt good in my lungs, fresh. It was a stark contrast to the hot air inside. Too many bodies in one place always made a space too stuffy for me.

  Piper was leaning against the side of the bar. Her phone was still in her hand, and she was staring blankly at the screen. Her other arm hung limply by her side.

  A bad feeling rolled through my stomach. Dread. Worry.

  “Piper?”

  She didn’t look up at me. Her eyes were glazed over as she stared at the screen.

  I bent over to peer up into her face. “Piper?”

  When she still didn’t respond, I pressed a finger under her chin and forced her to look up at me. She blinked rapidly, and I realized she’d been crying. Her eyes were pink and so was the tip of her nose, and moisture glistened on her cheeks from tears.

  I wiped them gently away with my thumb. “What happened?”

  She swallowed a few times and took three gulps of air. I waited patiently while my stomach tightened into knots of worry.

  “Take your time,” I said.

  She closed her eyes. “It’s my dad.”

  Fuck.

  “Is he…” I didn’t want to say the word aloud. Was he dead? What had happened? Was all my time going to be cut short because of this?

  I hated myself for thinking it. It was selfish as hell, but I couldn’t help it. I was just starting to get into the swing of things with this girl, and I didn’t want to lose the best shot I had at my own happy ending.

  “He had a heart attack,” she whispered.

  “When?”

  “Just now. Or an hour ago. I don’t know. He’s at the hospital.”

  “Who’s with him?”

  “My mom and my brother.”

  “Okay,” I said slowly, pressing the heel of my hand to my forehead. “Okay. Hold on. Sit tight. I’m going to get us a flight back to New York, okay? We’ll be in the air in less than an hour.”

  She finally looked at me—really looked at me. Her eyes swam with fear and grief, and I wanted to pull her in close and promise her that everything would be okay.

  But I couldn’t make a promise unless I knew it was true, and there was a very good chance this might not be okay.

  She might lose her father.

  I fished my phone out of my pocket. As soon as I had it in my hands, I was pulling up Jackson Lee’s number. He wasn’t going to be pleased that I was calling at this late hour, but it was an emergency. I lifted the phone to my ear and pulled Piper into my side as it rang. She wrapped her arms around my waist and buried her face in my chest.

  I rubbed her back and willed Jackson to answer.

  When he did, it was with a growl. “Why are you calling me at this time, Peterson? My kids are—”

  “I need a plane,” I said.

  Jackson went quiet. I suspected he was trying to get his bearings. “Why?”

  “Piper’s dad had a heart attack. I need to get her back to New York as soon as possible.”

  “Shit,” Jackson breathed. “All right. I’ll make some calls. Get your ass to the private strip.”

  “How much time do you need?”

  “Twenty minutes.”

  Not bad. Not bad at all. “We’ll be there.”

  “Does she need anything else?” Jackson asked.

  I looked down at Piper. “Hey, Piper? Do you need anything? What can we do to help you?”

  She shook her head. “I just need to get to him.”

  “You heard her,” I said.

  “I’m on it,” Jackson assured me. “Get to the airport. I’ll take care of the rest.”

  I hung up the call and held Piper close. “Okay. We just have to get to the airport. Jackson is handling things. We’ll have our own private jet. No security checks. No other passengers. No delay. He’ll arrange transportation from the tarmac to the hospital, too. You’ll be with your dad in less than three hours.”

  Probably only two. But it was better to overestimate than underestimate in situations like this.

  Piper nodded slowly. “Okay.”

  “Let’s get a cab. I’ve got you, Piper. I’m not going anywhere.”

  She sniffled and wiped at the corners of her eyes, and I held her tighter, wishing I could take away all her pain and grief. We went to the curb, where I flagged down a cab, and once we were in the back seat, I pulled her in as close as I could and held on tig
ht. She wrapped her arms around me and cried into my shoulder.

  “It’ll be all right,” I said. “It’ll be all right. I’ve got you.”

  Chapter 9

  Piper

  Christian rubbed my back as I leaned over and expelled the contents of my stomach on the side of the highway about twenty minutes away from the hospital.

  “Get it out, Piper,” he said softly, his gentle slow circle rubs easing the tightness in my throat.

  I gasped for breath and spat as he handed me a bottle of water from the inside of the luxury limo Jackson Lee had sent to pick us up at the airport.

  It had been a wild two hours. Or less than that.

  The cab had taken us directly to the airport in Boston, where we were escorted out onto the tarmac to meet our private Casanova Club jet. We didn’t have to stop once. We just got on the plane, buckled in, and took off.

  After landing back in New York, the limo was waiting for us. We piled in and made it about halfway to the hospital before my gut seized and I had to call out for the driver to pull over so I could throw up.

  Apparently, this was about as much worry as my body could take.

  “Drink more,” Christian urged, his hand stilling on my back.

  I did as he said and straightened up, tilting my head back to take three greedy gulps of water. Some of it rolled down my chin.

  “Thatta girl,” Christian said. “You good?”

  I held up a hand.

  He waited.

  My stomach was still churning fiercely. My mouth was flooded with saliva, and my gut clenched and unclenched, preparing for another bout of vomiting. I willed myself to keep it together. This was a delay I could not afford.

  I should be at the hospital, not puking my guts out on the side of the road.

  But I couldn’t control it. The fear and panic had a hold of me, and my body was responding of its own accord.

  I turned away, bent over, and threw up again.

  Christian was there, rubbing my back right away.

  “I’m sorry,” I choked out as I dragged the back of my hand across my mouth.