Angel After Dark (11 page)

Judy looked up from her desk and cast an admiring glance over Alex as he passed.

“Goodnight, Mr. Avery.”

“Goodnight, Judy. Enjoy your weekend.”

Fucking hell
, Alex thought to himself as he walked quickly back to his office to pick up the file from his desk. He glanced at his watch and started to make his way out of the building, racking his brain for something he could give Cole to do that wouldn’t cause too many issues if he failed. Alex dug for his car keys and made his way toward the elevator. It opened to find Darian walking out and catching him off guard.

“What are you doing here, man? I thought we were meeting at Murphy’s at 6:30?”

“It’s damn nice to see you too, Alex! Change of plans.” Darian’s dark eyes glanced over the thick red folder in Alex’s hands. “Taking work home? You dedicated motherfucker.” He shook his head as he backed up into the elevator again and waited for Alex to join him.

Alex chuckled. “Hardly. But I’ll let you believe that.”

Yeah, whatever
, Darian thought. Alex was the most workaholic son-of-a-bitch he knew, but it had paid off in spades. His focus had made a lot of people a lot of money, and Darian was one of them. He took stock tips from his friend and also purchased stock in Avery whenever Alex had a particularly profitable deal in the works. Alex never gave him the details because that would be considered insider trading, but Darian paid attention to what was going on at his best friend’s company. He kept track of Avery Enterprises in the trade magazines and watched how the stock was trending. When Alex bought stocks for his personal portfolio, he would let Darian know and he would follow his lead.

“Seriously, what’s in the folder?”

Alex frowned, not sure he wanted to tell Darian that he was investigating the lovely Dr. Hemming. He was itching to read every last report, but he’d have to wait a few hours until Darian got rid of whatever wild hair was currently up his ass.

“My father’s on my case to keep Cole busy, and I’m trying to come up with something that won’t cost us out the ass.” The tone of his voice was amused, but Darian was well aware of how serious the situation could become.

“Yeah. I know how pissed you were last time when he let that merger with Sullivan fall through. Why don’t you put whatever that is in your car and I’ll drive?”

Alex was perplexed. This was unexpected. “You didn’t turn gay on me, did you? Because I’m not really dressed for a date, and I don’t want you to be my bitch.”

“Shut up, dickhead. You’ll be kissing my ass in about 40 minutes. I’m about to give you a gift.” Laughing, Darian shook his head, silently admonishing himself for what he was about to do. Alex closed his passenger door and used his remote to relock it.

Alex slid into the passenger side of Darian’s Cadillac Escalade and stopped to watch the other man’s expression as he buckled in.

“Really. Where are we going?”

“To a karaoke bar in Schaumburg.”

Alex sat further back in his chair and burst out laughing. “Yeah, right. Sure we are.”

“No, we are, Alex.”

“Is this payback for my blowing off the racquetball? I’ll give you a thousand dollars if I don’t have to watch you sing karaoke. And, in the suburbs? Are you fucking kidding me with that shit?” He was still chuckling as he leaned an elbow on the door and brought his right hand up to his mouth. “You know I don’t drink in the suburbs.”

“You’re a snob, Alex.”

Alex considered this for a moment, the amusement clearly written all over his face. “I can live with that.” He paused for a few seconds then continued, “This isn’t the type of joint with jizz all over the walls, the waitresses have 5 inch fake nails, and you get STDs just from sitting on the bar stools, is it?” Alex was smirking as he said the words, and then his straight, white teeth flashed in a huge smile as he took his sunglasses out of his inside breast pocket and slid them over his vibrant green eyes. “Because my mommy warned me about places like that,” he mocked dryly, tongue-in-cheek.

A deep laugh burst from Darian’s chest. He couldn’t wait to see the look on his friend’s face when he saw her.
Fucking priceless
. “This is a
very
special establishment, Alex. You’re going to really love it, even if it is lacking the tasty accouterments you just described.”

*****

The man at the end of the bar nodded in Angel’s direction. He was attractive in a slick, snarky sort of way, wearing an expensive suit and linen shirt that he left open at the neck. Angel inwardly cringed at the mass of dark hair on his chest that looked grotesque against the fake tan and glitter of gold around his throat. She had a feeling that if she went over and squeezed him, oil would literally ooze out onto the hardwood floor. There were several other men eyeing her as she stood at the bar in her stylish designer suit and Jimmy Choo’s.

She hated coming into places like this alone. Becca’s parents lived in Schaumburg, so the girls would sometimes go out near their home so they could watch Jillian. It was Becca’s twenty-eighth birthday, and Angel had agreed to meet her at one of her favorite hangouts.

She turned back to her drink, trying desperately to keep her nose from wrinkling in disgust and silently praying that the man wouldn’t make a move. It had been a rough day, and this place, with its fast-talking men who thought they were God’s gift to women, wasn’t anything she really felt like dealing with.

Wine glass in hand, she looked around, taking in the details of her surroundings. It was dark; an array of black marble and mahogany hardwood floors, deep red upholstered furniture, and low lights. There were speakers along both sides of the room and opposite the entrance, a stage with a small dance floor directly in front of it. The music was loud and the talent was, well… marginal, at best. Angel didn’t understand it, but Becca loved this place, and it was her birthday after all. It’d been a while since she’d stretched her vocal cords, and she highly doubted that she’d imbibe as Becca would desire her to do today.

The shark at the end of the bar raised his chin in a nod at the same time as he lifted his glass.
Ugh.
Angel tried her best not to visibly grimace and simply let her lips smile slightly before she turned around in her chair, only to be faced with an array of the same from different sources.
S
ome of them were attractive, she had to be honest, but it took a lot for her to look twice at a man these days. They were more work than they were worth. Her mind darted to the day in the paint store with longing. That would have been a man worth meeting.

Angel was aware that she was attractive, but she worked at it and didn’t take it for granted. She had been plain growing up, mostly because she had no mother to show her how to do make-up or take her shopping. Although Joe tried, what did he know about guiding his young daughter on her journey into womanhood?

She’d since made up for it in spades. Her skin was flawless, her nails perfectly manicured, wardrobe impeccably tasteful, yet, hinting at sexy, and hair and make-up meticulous in every detail. When she was working, it mattered, but when she was alone or at home, she didn’t think twice about her appearance.

Angel thumbed through the karaoke menu as she waited; opening to the page and artist where she knew Becca would gravitate. Her phone rang and she retrieved it from her purse, glancing at the faceplate as she did so.
Da
rian.

“Hey, Darian.”

“Hi. I’d like to meet you for a drink tonight before the show. Can you do that? I have some ideas for promotion and wanted to talk to you about it.”

“Can’t we do that at the studio later? It’s my best friend’s birthday, and I’m meeting her tonight.”

“I see. Well, can I just meet you there? I won’t intrude long.”

“Umm…” Angel glanced around, not sure if Becca would be pissed at her boss crashing their girl’s night out or if the establishment was particularly the place for a business meeting. “It’s a karaoke bar out west, so I don’t think it would be a good place to talk. It will get loud in here soon.”

Darian laughed. “Karaoke! I didn’t take you for a singer, Angel.”

“Ha, ha.” She rolled her eyes at the jab. “I told you. It was Becca’s choice, not mine.”

“Look, I’ve had a hell of a day and wanted to unwind a little. I thought we’d kill two birds with one stone, and maybe I’ll even let you fly solo tonight.”

“Well, when you put it that way.” Angel smiled as Becca finally walked in the door, and she waved her over. “Okay. We’re at Red. It’s out by Woodfield Mall. Do you know where it is?”

“Sure do. Can I come now?”

“Okay. I only have a couple hours until I have to get home and change before the show, so the sooner the better.”

“I have to make one stop first and then I’ll be right out. You know rush-hour traffic though; it might take me a good hour.”

“No problem. See ya in a few.” Angel hung up the phone and hugged a smiling Becca in greeting. “Happy Birthday, you gorgeous bitch.”

The two women laughed together as Becca stole Angel’s drink from her hand and took a sip. “Looks like a tasty crowd tonight.” Becca turned toward the bartender. “Steve, can you send over a couple of Cosmopolitans and keep them coming?” She grabbed the music binder from the top of the bar and lead Angel toward a table near the front. Many of the tables were already filled with various men and women, some of whom Angel recognized from other times that they’d been there.

“No one hit on me while I was waiting, so maybe it’s better than average.”

“Hmmm,” Becca said as she pulled out a chair and sat down, watching Angel as she did. “Jesus, girl, you always make me look like such a slog. You had to wear Chanel?” Her eyes skirted over Angel’s fitted black suit and lime green blouse. The skirt was a few inches above the knee, the jacket angled in and ended just below the black leather belt that cinched in her waist below the flowing silk of the blouse.

“I came straight from work, and I had court today. I mean, look at this spinster hairdo!”

Becca was in jeans and a cute top, her long blonde hair tossed as she huffed at her friend. “Right, Angel. Is that why that sleaze at the bar is looking at you like he could eat you?”

Angel’s hair was in a loose knot at the top of her head, soft tendrils flowing around her face, a rosy blush rushing over her cheeks. “He’s harmless.”

“Agreed. Creepy fucker, though. But look, there’s your boyfriend,” Becca giggled, nodding in the direction of another table behind Angel. “He’s practically drooling.”

Angel smiled, already knowing that when she turned around she’d find someone completely opposite of anything she would normally be attracted to and probably downright offensive. It was a game they played often. She glanced over her shoulder, trying to keep a straight face to find a short, rotund man dressed in a business suit openly gaping at the two girls. His mouth was hanging open, and he was obviously taken with them both.

Angel bit her lip to keep the laugh from bursting out of her throat but couldn’t help a soft chuckle. She looked around, locating a tall, gangly man on the other side of the bar. He was keeping to himself, staring down into this glass, his head covered in a grotesque corkscrew comb over, he looked in his mid-fifties.

“So what?” She giggled. “He’s yours.” Angel’s hand was hidden by Becca’s body so she was able to point slightly in the man’s direction before she picked up the drink that the waitress brought over. Becca giggled and wrote down a song choice on one of the slips supplied in a pile on the table.

They were both in a fit of controlled laughter when the waitress brought their drinks. “So, Angel, will you sing for my birthday?”

Angel wrinkled her nose. “I haven’t picked up a real mic in over two years.” Her fingers played with the rim of her glass as she contemplated her past. It had been a great part of her life, but it was over. Her eyes lifted and she smiled. “I’m here to listen to
you
.”

“Eh, it’s like riding a bike. Maybe we can do a duet?” Becca’s eyebrows wagged and a smile split across her pretty face. “Besides, gotta give our boyfriends a show. Let ‘em know what they’re really missing.”

“Mmmm…” Angel shook her head at her friend’s silliness. “I forgot to tell you, Darian called and needs to talk to me about something for the show. He said it couldn’t wait, so he’s stopping in here for a one drink. I hope you don’t mind.”

Becca’s mouth quirked a little. “Sure, but he’s coming all the way out here? Shit, maybe you’re getting fired.” Angel grinned at her friend’s teasing. “Is he hot?”

“Oh God, Becca. Just go sing, already!” Angel was exasperated. As if dealing with this shit for four hours on Friday nights wasn’t bad enough, now she had to deal with Becca’s perpetual state of manhunting.

“No, really. Is he?” The blonde girl persisted, eyeing Angel with a small amount of skepticism.

“Yes, he’s attractive, and no, we aren’t involved. If you’re interested, you should go for it.”

Becca flipped open the binder to the exact section of the song menu that Angel had predicted: Christina Aguilera. She perused the songs while Angel sipped her drink and tried not to pay attention to the stares they were getting. Even the women were checking them out. Becca read her mind. “It’s bad enough when the men hover like vultures. Is my left tit hanging out or something?”