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  Just like tonight, I was with the girls and we were enjoying ourselves and the atmosphere. We were taking a break from roulette with cocktails and Sue was cursing out her husband when the phone rang. I only picked it up because it was odd for my mother to call me so late.

  Kat leaned in to order from the bartender as I placed the phone to my ear, turning a bit to my left for a hint of privacy. I didn’t show them anything, keeping a pleasant smile on my face as I answered.

  When I heard my mother’s voice on the other end, the smile vanished and the sounds turned to dead air.

  I could barely make out my mother’s voice, just a few words here and there, but I knew something was wrong. Very wrong.

  My heart raced, and the shock caused my body temperature to drop so low that I was shivering.

  He’s dead. I heard her words clear as day as I got to the entrance of the casino. My heels clipped the large rug that covered the granite floor at the entrance. I stumbled forward, my short dress riding up and my left heel nearly falling off. My knees hit the hard ground and the phone fell from my hand.

  Jace is dead. That’s what she said. Jace, my Jace, is dead, I thought.

  I imagine they thought I was drunk. I would have assumed that if I’d seen someone fall the way I had.

  Margo Pierce was there to help me. Those damn cocktail rings were digging into my arm as she helped lift me up. I stood there on wobbly legs just trying to breathe, but when I looked up and into her eyes, I could tell she knew.

  I knew in that moment it was real. I could lie to myself, or I could have hung up and driven home, all the while in denial. But the sympathy in her eyes was damning.

  I rip my eyes away from hers and return back to the girls, to tonight, leaving that night in the past, right where it belongs. I ignore the way my hand itches to drain the glass of wine and order another and push my hair back over my shoulders, trying to relax. Trying to shake off the unwanted memories.

  “I think you’re flagged,” Kat mutters into her glass even as her eyes meet mine. Her sandy brunette hair is colored with a subtle ombre and she’s worn her eyeliner in a cat-eye fashion. I don’t know why, but I can’t stop looking at it. Like if I can just concentrate on her makeup, everything else will go the fuck away.

  “No such thing,” Sue’s quick to come to my defense, a smile on her face. “Drink up, girly.” She gives me a wink and it forces a smile to my face. It didn’t take long for the girls to come find me that night, crying alone in the back of the limo.

  I blink a few times to keep the tears away. It was months and months ago, but sometimes the pain comes back full force. I don’t know that it will ever go away and if it does, surely that would be a tragedy. I don’t know where the grief and mourning ends and my life begins again, but I’d like to find it.

  I push the nearly empty glass away, watching the dark liquid pool into the very bottom and sigh deeply. I can’t seem to force the smile to stay on my face. The once easy mask isn’t slipping into place. Progress is all I need though. I remind myself of my motto: Seek for progress, not perfection.

  “Let’s talk about something and someone else,” I suggest.

  My skin pricks at the back of my neck as I feel a set of eyes on me. The anxiety comes back and I put on my best fake smile, staring straight ahead as Maddie starts listing off what’s wrong with her last rendezvous.

  I don’t know who it is, but someone’s watching me. It could be the papers, but every time I’ve gone out, they’ve approached me before I’ve even noticed them. I debate on taking a casual look over my shoulder. I thought I felt someone watching me earlier, but maybe I was wrong.

  It’s all in your head, I tell myself again.

  “You know enough time has passed,” I hear Sue say from across the table. I look up at her dark eyes twinkling with mischievousness.

  “Enough time for what?” Maddie asks Sue. Maddie’s the quintessential younger sister of our group and I swear most of Sue’s references go right over her head.

  Sue motions toward me, and it’s only then that I take in her words. I clear my throat and look away, feeling a blush rise to my cheeks. “When I said someone else…” I mutter playfully and pick up the glass, tilting it all the way up in the air and throwing my head back to get the last few drops.

  The girls laugh it off, but there’s a certain gravity in Sue’s eyes.

  She lowers her voice and looks at me in the eyes as she says, “We just want you to be happy.”

  “It’s ‘we’ now?” I ask her suddenly feeling defensive. They’ve been talking about me behind my back?

  Sue shrugs and Kat’s quick to put a hand on top of mine. She twists in her spot and the white leather booth squeaks under her skinny ass. “We were just talking earlier.” My brow rises as she takes in a breath and tries to find the right words.

  “We want you happy again,” Maddie says from her seat next to Kat. Her hands make two sharp motions emphasizing “happy again” as she leans back in her seat and looks straight ahead, avoiding my eyes on her.

  Of course they’d talk about me. I’m not shocked by that at all. I can’t explain why it feels like a betrayal though. Why my throat seems to go dry and then itch as if I’m going to cry. Why wouldn’t they? Everyone else is.

  “Hey, Jules,” Kat’s voice is soft, placating even.

  I pull my hand away from her and suck in a breath, “it’s fine,” I whisper, grabbing my clutch.

  “Don’t go,” Sue’s quick to sit forward and plead. “It wasn’t-”

  “Just to the powder room,” I blurt out. “I just need to freshen up,” I tell them with a tight smile, standing up and pulling down my dress.

  “Do you want company?” Kat asks, already sliding out behind me.

  “I just need a minute,” I say and shake my head, and give her pleading eyes.

  I can handle this, and I’m more than ready to. I just need something. A breath of fresh air maybe. Or a drink of water or something stronger. I don’t know what, but I know I need a damn minute to figure it out.

  Chapter 5

  Mason

  Just when you least expect it,

  The sins come back to play.

  They tempt you and lure you,

  To go back to yesterday.

  Before you knew what waited here,

  Before you knew the lies.

  Before, you had a choice to save her,

  Before your own demise.

  But before is already gone,

  It’s in the past where it will stay

  So look forward, not backward,

  For all you have is today.

  The anxious feeling deep in my gut won’t quit. It only gets more intense as Julia walks behind me, politely maneuvering her small frame between the crowd of people. I watch her from my periphery, listening to the rhythmic sound of her heels and watching how her hips sway gently.

  She doesn’t notice me, which is by my design, but still it aggravates me. She passes so close behind me on her way to the restrooms that I catch a hint of her sweet scent. No doubt it’s perfume, a gentle floral with a citrus of some sort, but as it fills my lungs I can’t help but grip the bar top tighter to keep myself from following her.

  Ever since I caught a glimpse of her, I haven’t been able to move or get her out of my head. For months, I haven’t thought twice about her. Each time her picture swept into my thoughts, I pushed it away.

  But she’s here now, so close that I could touch her.

  I can’t approach her though. How fucked up would that be?

  Her eyes haunt me, but her body tempts me. And she doesn’t know a damn bit of the truth. I can’t cross that line. That’s not the man I want to be. Not anymore.

  I down the whiskey and slide the empty glass forward.

  As I stand up abruptly, the stool slides backward and bumps into someone. I turn to look over my shoulder while reaching into my back pocket for my wallet. “Sorry,” I say without thinking and then stare at Julia.

 
Her eyes still aren’t on me as she waves off my apology, looking at the bottles lining the back of the bar before finally setting her gorgeous blue eyes on me.

  She shakes her head just slightly, making her hair fall off her shoulder and exposing more of her bare skin. “It’s fine,” she says sweetly and then walks forward, stepping up to the bar on my right, coming closer to me. Like a lamb stepping into the lion’s den, teasing and taunting unknowingly.

  She’s so fucking close to me, so damn alluring. The black dress clings to her curves. Her hips are wide and I can just imagine how they’d feel to hold as I took her from behind. I can feel Patricia’s eyes flicker to me as Julia orders, but I can’t help staring at Julia.

  I swallow thickly, leaning my forearms against the bar and trying to act casual, getting that much closer to her.

  She doesn’t know anything and she doesn’t have to. She’ll never know the truth and this is my chance to learn more about who the pretty face in the picture is.

  “Julia, right?” I ask her. My heart pounds as, thinking why the hell would I admit that I know anything at all about her. I don’t intend to lie to her though. Nothing but lies of omission. I’ve heard her name in the social circles. Her family is well known so I doubt she’ll be surprised that I recognize her.

  “Jules,” she says warmly, now looking at me differently than she did a moment ago. She seems to do a double take and a hint of playfulness sparkles in her eyes. It’s as if I’m suddenly what she’s been looking for. Or maybe who she’s been waiting for.

  “Ah, Jules.” I tap my fingers on the bar and look away for a moment. What the fuck am I doing? This isn’t just playing with fire, this is worse. It’s asking to be burned and shoving my fists into the coals.

  Patricia sets two shots of what look like chilled tequila in front of Jules. I eye them and then her as she throws the first one back without thinking twice. Her slender fingers slip around the second one, ready to down it as well.

  I can fucking feel the pain coming off her in waves. She’s drowning it in alcohol. She’s good at hiding her emotions on the surface, but her actions speak so much louder than words.

  “Not gonna share?” I ask her teasingly, more to keep her from drinking it then the desire to have it for myself.

  She licks her lips and smiles. “You want it?”

  Goddamn, does she know how she’s coming off right now? She’s already testing me, because just hearing those words slip between her lips has my dick straining in my pants. Yes, I fucking want it. She’s practically forbidden. The only woman in this city I should be ashamed to look in the eyes.

  “If you’re offering,” I answer her with a flirtatiousness I don’t recognize. She blushes and tucks her hair back behind her ear. As she pulls her eyes away from me, she catches a glimpse of something across the room that rips the happiness from her in an instant.

  I throw the shot back but keep my eyes on her. The cold liquid burns. I was right about it being tequila. It’s strong too. Stronger than I expected and it takes the breath from me, making my chest feel tight, but then it relaxes me all the way down.

  I hold up two fingers for Patricia, “Another two,” I order and slip the stool I’d been sitting on over to Jules as I continue to stand. “Let me get you another,” I offer her. Instantly her eyes come back to me.

  I watch as they swirl with a mix of questions. The vulnerability is clearly there and that only makes her that much more enticing.

  “I’m not sure I should,” she says softly. Her honesty is so raw, so genuine.

  “You really shouldn’t,” I answer her with complete honesty as well. She deserves that much. She’s little Red Riding Hood in fuck-me-heels and I’m worse than the Big Bad Wolf. I lean forward, knowing I’m breaking every rule I have and bring my lips just inches from her ear.

  Her fingers tighten on the edge of the stool as I whisper, “But you want to. And this is so much better than whatever you were going to do.” I’m not sure if my confession is for her or for me, but either way, I’ve convinced myself.

  My rough voice and hot breath make goosebumps rail down her shoulder. Her nipples pebble under her dress and I can just barely make them out as I pull away from her, offering her space and an out.

  She could leave if she wanted to. She could walk away. Fuck, she could call me an asshole if she wanted to, and I’d sit here and do my best to pretend I’ll never go after her again. In this moment, I can’t say with confidence I’d never approach her again.

  It takes a moment for Jules to pull herself together. She stands there in what seems like a daze. It’s only when Patricia sets the shot glasses down, spilling just a touch of the chilled tequila over the edge of one glass, that she comes back to me.

  I take the one closest to her and hold it out to her. She keeps her eyes on me but accepts it.

  “Here’s to things we know we shouldn’t do,” I tell her with a smile, lifting my glass and extending it for a toast.

  Slowly, so very slowly, that bit of happiness comes back to her. Her eyes keep flickering with uncertainty to the floor and across the room.

  “Here’s to happiness,” she says with feigned confidence, making her shoulders straighter as she clinks her glass against mine and then throws it back. She slams hers down on the bar while I’m still left holding mine and watching her every move.

  I toss it back as she picks up her clutch, obviously ready to pay for the shots.

  “Don’t,” I tell her with more strength in my voice than I should have used. I lighten my tone as I say, “It’s on me.” I hesitate then add, “I was just getting ready to leave.”

  She watches me warily, but I look toward Patricia as I get out my own wallet. All the while paying attention to Jules in my periphery.

  “Well, thank you… what’s your name?” she asks.

  “Mason,” I answer her hoping she’s never heard of me, but she brightens and nods her head.

  “Thatcher. Yes, I thought I recognized you.” She bites the inside of her cheek as something hits her. Her expression falls slightly. “I’m sorry to hear-”

  I cut off her apology, and then pass my card to Patricia. “To happiness, right?” It hurts me to say the words, but I don’t bother to hide it.

  That only makes her lips turn down into an alluring frown, somehow making her look even more beautiful. We’re both in pain. Both getting over something. Only this shit I did to myself and she’s collateral damage.

  She catches the glimpse of someone behind me and it makes her turn to the bar again, her back straight and the playfulness gone.

  “To happiness, and to the things that we want,” I tell her as I sign the receipt and leave the pen on the bar. I spear my fingers through my hair, feeling the heat of the moment and the buzz of the liquor starting to affect me.

  I glance at her and watch as she closes her eyes. It’s affecting her too. She’s easy prey -- beautiful, naive, innocent. I’m an asshole for doing it, but I can’t help that I want her.

  “I’m gonna get out of here,” I say then let my eyes roam down her body, not hiding what I want from her. “You wanna come with?”

  If you’d like to read the rest of Imperfect, it’s available at all your favorite book stores. (Available Now!)

  About Willow

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