Chapter 17

Jeremy

I haven’t been able to get Linny Faye out of my mind.

After I got back to my office earlier, I did what any rational man with a raging erection would do.

I locked my private bathroom door and pumped one out to the vision of Linny on the bed in my hotel room.

I’ll never forget the way that woman looks nude.

I’m grateful for that since it’s been my sole source of masturbation inspiration since I got back from Las Vegas.

After I cleaned up, I tore into Trent about the unauthorized contest he held when he was in Rio de Janeiro last year.

He posted a selfie on Instagram offering a free drink and a year’s supply of our traditional vodka to whoever met him at a local bar first.

According to him, the bar was overrun with customers. They pulled in more money that night than they had in years. To repay Trent, they offered to carry our vodka exclusively in all of their locations in Brazil.

I wondered how he landed that deal.

The free case of vodka sent to an address in Rio makes a lot more sense now too.

“Why are you still here?” Blythe pokes her heard into my office. “It’s late. Go home.”

I look down at my watch. “I’m the boss. I can stay as late as I want. You know I don’t pay overtime so why the hell aren’t you home with Harve?”

She shrugs as she settles into one of the chairs opposite my desk. “It’s poker night.”

“Harve plays?” I lean back. “I play with Rocco and a few of his friends twice a month.”

She claps her hands together once. “You do? Are spectators allowed?”

“Not if they’re dressed like that. You look like a candy cane, Blythe.”

No exaggeration.

She’s wearing a white dress with red diagonal stripes topped off with a green scarf around her neck.

As usual, she ignores my critique of her wardrobe without batting an eyelash. “Harve could use some new poker buddies. He’s always beating the three he plays with now.”

“He’s good?”

“The best,” she answers proudly. “He has yet to meet anyone who can out -bluff him.”

I point out the obvious. “Rocco is a former world poker champion. Harve wouldn’t stand a chance against him.”

“I bet he would.” Her eyebrows dance.

She’ll lose that bet. The same way that I almost always lose when I play cards with Rocco. I tell myself I’m doing it for fun and as a way to unwind, but every single time I leave his place with an empty wallet, I wonder where the hell I left my better judgment.

“Invite Harve to your next game and we can set up a side wager,” she goes on. “If he wins, you give me an extra week off this year with pay.”

Curiosity drives the next words out of my mouth. “And if Harve loses?”

“I’ll bring you coffee every morning for a month.”

I can’t help but laugh. “That’s in your goddamn job description.”

“Is it?”

I glance down at my watch again. “Text Conrad to pick you up. It’s time to call it a day.”

“I can charge it to Rizon?” She skims her thumb over the screen of her smartphone.

I nod. “Tell your grandson to take you to Crispy Biscuit. It’s a diner in midtown. Buy him a grilled cheese and fries. Order yourself some dinner too.”

“You’re buying?” She looks up from her phone. “Why are you in such a good mood?”

I found my Vegas angel today.

I skip over honesty and settle on believable. “I locked down one of the best advertising firms in the city to handle the vanilla vodka campaign.”

“That is good news.” She places her phone back in her lap. “Con is five minutes away. I’ll grab my things and head down to the lobby.”

I stand. “I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

She’s on her feet too. “Don’t stay too late, Jeremy.”

I won’t take her advice. I’ll order something in and focus on the budget projections for next quarter. “I’ll see to it Harve has a seat at our next poker game.”

“I’m tagging along,” she says as she turns to leave my office. “I want to see the look on Rocco’s face when Harve wins.”

I want to see that look too, but I doubt it’ll happen.

“Enjoy your night, Blythe.”

She turns back to face me. “She must be special.”

I lift my chin. “Who?”

“The woman you keep thinking about.” She shoots me a warm look. “I’ve been around the block enough times to know when a man’s mind is caught up with a beautiful woman.”

I should deny it, but I don’t. “She’s very beautiful.”

“Why don’t you take your own advice and get out of here? Meet her for dinner.”

Because she won’t even admit that I know her.

I could confess all of this to Blythe, but I’ve always kept my personal life out of the office. That won’t change now.

“Don’t keep Con waiting. I’m footing the bill, remember?”

She laughs. “You’re politely trying to tell me to mind my own business.”

“Since when am I polite?” I lean against the edge of my desk.

“Good point.” She tugs on the ends of her scarf. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Bright and early, Blythe.”