“Come on. It’s New Year’s Eve for crying out loud.” Misty screeches through the speaker on my phone.

“I can’t. I’m still recovering from the vacation from hell.” I stretch out on my couch with a bowl of popcorn watching a Twilight movie marathon. Jacob is about to turn into a werewolf, and I’m going to sit right here and debate which team I’m on.

I let out an aggravated huff and take a sip of my water.

“We’re not even thirty. Get off your ass. You can’t be a crazy cat lady until you’re thirty-five, at least.”

Running my fingers through Casper’s fur, I laugh lightly. He looks up at me as though he takes offense to her tone.

He purrs as I scratch behind his ears. At least Casper is loyal. Unlike my ex-boyfriend, Sean. He blamed his cheating with my former roommate on my job. Said I cared more about my work than I did our relationship. Maybe he was right. I don’t know.

My life seems to revolve around my profession. I love my job, but Sean was right, I don’t know how to shut that part of me down as often as I should.

“I got us a table at that new club. You know what I had to do to get Mr. Pike to get me this table? Please?” She draws the word out.

Mr. Pike is her silver fox asshole of a boss.

“No, and don’t tell me.” Misty and her boss have a special relationship. Meaning she’s his plaything, sidepiece, whatever the kids call it these days. I don’t know why she works for the man—I really don’t—but she’s a big girl. She can take care of herself. Not my concern.

She can deny it all she wants but I know she’s in love with him.

“Meet you there in like an hour?” Her voice is desperate, a pleading tone.

Ugh. I hold my phone from my ear and look at the time. In Misty speak that means more like two hours which would give me time to get ready, if I was going out.

I do have a hot little red dress I’ve yet to wear and the perfect shoes to match.

Hmm.

“I didn’t hear a no.” Her voice is nasal and singsongy.

“If I say yes, will you stop talking like that?”

“Maybe.” She does the voice thing again.

“Fine. Text me the address and don’t be late.”

“I promise.”

She’s full of shit and I’ll be sitting at the table drinking alone for at least two songs before she shows up.

“I’ll be there.”

“Yay!” She squeals in my ear before the line goes dead.

Clicking the power button on the TV off, I move Casper from my lap and put a lid over my popcorn bowl to save it for tomorrow night.

That red dress hanging in my closet screams my name.

* * *

When I get inside the club, it’s filled with people wearing New Year’s party hats and dressed to the nines. The bar’s jam-packed, and the waitresses appear to be running their legs off for the private party going on in the VIP section that sits up a flight of stairs and overlooks the club. I’m twenty-eight. I should be living it up like the group up there. Maybe I will, for one night, anyway. I deserve it.

I’m married to my job because I love it. I’m an attorney on retainer for a women’s non-profit. I represent women who can’t afford someone on their own. I know I can’t save the world, but I try.

Maybe it’s time I put myself back out there again. It’s been nearly six months since I ended things with Sean and moved into my new apartment on my own.

Closing my eyes, I take a moment to let all my worries go. Tonight, I need to cut loose. It’s almost a new year and the air seems full of possibilities. Smiling to myself as my mind clears, I move to the music, swaying my hips with the beat.

Right now, I don’t care that Misty’s late. I don’t care that there will probably be ten new cases on my desk when I return to the office on Monday.

Right here, right now—there is just me and the music.

“Fuck me, that dress would look fantastic on my floor.” An oddly familiar voice growls in my ear and a hand slides around my waist from behind, pulling me into a solid chest.

Woodsy cologne envelops me, and I shake my head.

I know who it is without looking.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

Out of all the bars in Dallas, fate has delivered the asshole from the cab.

“Weston?” I don’t look back, and hope to God it’s him or I’ll feel ridiculous.

I haven’t been able to stop thinking about his cocky smile and that heart-piercing dimple, ever since he disappeared from the cab. I can practically feel his smirk burning a hole in the back of my head.

“I made an impression. What are you drinking?”

Normally I’d smart off, but I do need a drink. Besides, I need to kill some time until Misty arrives. “Whatever you’re having.”

He clears his throat, and I turn around to face him. I think he was expecting a snarky remark, and his face actually looks a little disappointed.

“Champagne in the VIP room. Want to join me?”

Is that hope I see sparkling behind his dark eyes?

“Okay.”

“Seriously? That’s it?”

“Nope. It’s New Year’s Eve and a time for new beginnings. Why don’t we start over?” I smile and hold my hand out. “I’m Brooke.”

He grabs my hand and electricity shoots straight to my pussy when he smiles, exposing that dimple I spent a good part of the night dreaming about. “Weston.” He gives me a side eye.

“What?”

“I don’t know how I feel about this yet.” He wags a finger up and down my body.

“I thought you liked the dress?”

“I’d like what’s underneath more.”

And, we’re back.

“I’m sure you would. I could use an errand boy to take it to the dry cleaners for me.”

“That’s better, cab girl.” He grins.

“Can I call you Wes?” I stare into those dark eyes and everything and everyone around us seems to freeze. It’s like we’re the only two people standing here while the rest of the night blurs past. Only a minute has passed but it feels like forever.

“No.”

“So, about that champagne you were going to fetch me?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

He doesn’t let go of my hand, simply moves his other to the small of my back and leads me to the velvet rope that gates the stairs to the VIP area. His hand is like fire, just inches from my ass, and I think I might combust.

He nods at the bouncer who lets us through.

As we approach the tables where his group is seated, a few of the girls flash me nasty looks. Guess they think I took him off the market for the night. I ignore them. I’m only using Weston to occupy time until my friend arrives.