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“Hey, dream girl,” he grinned.

Krystal squinted her eyes, blinking at him through a blur of alcohol and memory. Then she gasped, recognition flickering across her face.

“What are you doing here?” she gasped, leaning back warily. “Are you stalking me or something?”

Larry laughed, placing his hands casually on the table. He gave Damian and the other guy a quick nod. “Hey guys. I’m looking for someone. Do any of you know where Lorenzo’s ex-wife is? Ex-Mrs. Moretti?”

No one answered.

Larry, unfazed, stepped closer to Krystal, rounding the table until he was right beside her chair.

“Do you mind if I ask…” he paused, eyes playful, “what’s your relationship with Lorenzo?”

Krystal took a slow sip of her cocktail, then set it down with a soft clink. “No relationship,” she answered without a blink.

Larry straightened, his grin growing. “Knew it. How could a beautiful woman like you possibly be connected to a man like him.”

He took a few steps back. “Alright, enjoy your drinks. Have fun.”

He then turned to Krystal. “See you next time, Dream girl.” He winked. Then he turned and walked away.

Krystal downed another drink in one go and stood abruptly. “I need some fresh air,” she mumbled, already walking away from the table.

Darren jumped up, concerned. “It’s late. Maybe I should come with you—”

“No. Sit down,” she muttered, pressing his shoulder and pushing him gently back into his seat.

Darren gave her a lingering look as she walked away but eventually sat back down.

***

Back in the private lounge, Larry returned, walking straight to the table. Lorenzo turned to him instantly, his expression tense.

Larry dropped into the couch with a dramatic sigh and glared at Michael.

“You asshole,” he snapped. “Is lying to me your new hobby? There was no ex-wife there. Why the hell would you lie to me?”

Michael sat up straighter, clearly annoyed. ““What? That’s not possible. I wasn’t lying. She was really there.”

“No, she wasn’t!” Larry growled. “There was only one woman at that table. My dream girl from the bar. No ex-wife. Just her.”

Larry leaned back, arms wide, smiling like a man who’d seen heaven. “I finally saw her again. Third time’s the charm, man. That’s gotta mean something, right? This is fate. The universe is screaming it at me.”

He sighed dreamily, practically floating.

“If I see her one more time… boyfriend or not, I’m chasing her. That guy can go to hell—I have to make her see me.”

"You're not doing anything like that!" Lorenzo's growl rumbled through the room.

Larry flipped his head toward him, frowning in annoyance.

"Why not?" Larry shot back. "She just has a boyfriend. It’s not like she’s married. What’s the problem?"

Michael leaned in. "Larry, you're gonna get yourself killed one day. Did you even ask her who she is?"

Larry threw his arms in the air and nodded like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Of course I did! I even asked if she knew Lorenzo, and she said she doesn’t have any relationship with him at all. She doesn’t even know Lorenzo."

Lorenzo, who had been trying to keep it together, clenched his jaw. His fists curled, knuckles white against the glass he was holding.