Page 44 of Empire State Enemies

A bunch more nonsense spills out. “It was dumb. He took my drink and wouldn’t give it back.”

Kayla’s mouth drops. “Connor Quinn nabbed yourdrink? But he owns the place!”

“I know, right?” I scoff, doubling down on my bullshit. “What a jerk.” I rub my neck, Pinocchio nose growing by the second. “Drinks thief.”

The lies just keep piling up. And the crazy thing is, I’m no fan of lying.

“Rich people do some crazy shit. Like shoplifting from Target.” She shakes her head, disbelief written all over her face as she leans against the fridge. “But let’s be honest, he’s insanelyhot. He could pretty much get away with murder.” She snickers. “He’s definitely not lacking in the whole package department.”

No, he’s not. In fact, the man is packing some serious heat. I felt him hard against me in the hotel bathroom. Even when he was giving me the third degree in the boardroom, I couldn’t help but notice the bulge in his pants. The same one he wanted me to suck off.

I keep that little detail to myself.

I give a noncommittal grunt. “If that’s your thing.”

She barks out a laugh. “Oh, you’re such an ass. So, what’d you two talk about in the boardroom?”

I look at her blankly. “He wanted to clear things up.”

Yeah, right.

She makes a surprised face. “Wow, I can’t believe he’d bother.”

“Yeah, it must be part of his billionaire 12-step plan for recovering drink thieves,” I joke weakly.

“Even hot rich dudes need to learn manners.” She nudges my arm playfully. “Anyway . . .”

She gives me that look that says whatever comes out of her mouth next, I’m not going to like. “To make up for going out without me, you owe me one. And I’m not taking no for an answer.”

“What?” I ask warily.

“You’re going on a double date with me.”

“No way.”

“Yes way.”

I try to object, but she bulldozes right over me. “Don’t even start! You need to get out, Lexi. When’s the last time you got laid or did anything besides work and worry?” She grins mischievously. “Just look at the guy’s pic, you’ll change your mind.”

“Ugh, all right, show me this hunk.” I sigh, knowing resistance is futile when Kayla gets an idea.

She pulls up her phone to show me this Brad guy. Sure, he’s a looker, but I’m not exactly in the mood for the dating game right now.

“I dunno.”

“Come on, remember our New Year’s resolution? We’re in our twenties, not eighties, Lexi. We’re supposed to be living it up and trying new things.”

Kayla’s always on my case about getting out more. I’m a boring grump. I’ve never even had a guy motorboat me, whileVicky’s doing it at the Christmas party to the servers.

Kayla’s doing her puppy-dog eyes again. “One night out won’t kill you. You’ve been so tense. And with all the stuff going on with your mom . . .” She softens her tone. “You’ve gotta take some time for yourself too. Cut loose and enjoy life for a change.”

To my horror, tears prick at my eyes. I turn away quickly, pretending to be very interested in making coffee.

“Fine,” I sigh, too exhausted to resist Hurricane Kayla. She’s got a point—I’ve been nothing but a bundle of nerves and worry. Maybe I do need a night off. My vibrator can only do so much. I need real warm male skin. The throbbing, veiny kind.

There was a time my life had balance—thought-provoking psych talks, happy hours that led to happier nights, hobbies not involving penny-pinching. Remember eating, sleeping, and sex for the fun of it? Good times.

Lately, it feels like my whole life’s been one big grind, just trying to keep us above water financially. These last few years, with credit cards hitting their limits and debt stacking higher and higher, feel like a never-ending series of IOUs.