“Aight, losers, back to the table. Time to give me more of your money!” I shout to the motley crew and make my way back to the game. Only this time, my mind is not on the game. It’s on a game, just not the one in front of me. Either way, I play to win.

  More Calvin…

  We have been playing for over an hour and everyone has broken into their own conversations as we play a friendly tournament. The room isn’t that big, and we are at a round table, so even though different conversations are going on around me, everyone can still hear everything anyone else is saying.

  I’d be remiss if I didn’t repeat myself by saying those two dudes that came with Parker are dill weeds. They are hammered and they are playing sloppy. This, again, is beneficial to my game, since my concentration is shot from my earlier conversation with Parker. Nonetheless, I am still taking their money. But my patience is wearing thin with regards to them and their fraternity-boy, sophomoric, crass humor, and it’s not as much fun as it was when the game began.

  I try to ignore them and shift my focus to a conversation with my man, Nick.

  “Yo, Bro, what’s my Little Bit up to tonight?” I ask, using my nickname for Delilah. He hates it when I call her that. I just think he is jealous because she likes it when I use it. I can tell by the blush that creeps up her cheeks.

  “My fiancée is hangin’ with Charlie tonight.” He answers and my dick twitches just from the mention of her. Fuck, I’m screwed!

  I attempt to coerce my voice into a neutral tone and force my face into a flat affect. I probably look like I got too many Botox injections, but I try to remain expressionless. Any sign of vulnerability, and these ass holes will attack like sharks that smell blood in the water.

  “Oh, yeah? What are those two trouble makers up to this fine evening?” I ask nonchalantly, but even I think I sound like a desperate douchebag.

  Nick shrugs. “I dunno. Some girlie shit, I presume.”

  He smiles at me knowingly, like he has my number, or something else is going on that he is not telling me. Shit! Now I am being paranoid.

  I nod and process, all the while trying to come up with my next question, hoping to obtain more information without sounding like I want more information. Either I drank way too much, or I have really lost my mind over this broad. I open my mouth to ask Nick something, but before anything comes out, Disney asshole speaks up.

  “Are you guys talking about Charlie Fisher?” he asks, using his hands in the air to mimic her hourglass figure.

  Both Nick and I stare at the douchebag for a moment before I reply. “Yeah, you know her?”

  “Do I know her?” The fucker chuckles and elbows his buddy, the BET tool. “Dude, I tapped that bitch multiple times,” he says, high-fiving his friend.

  “I tried but she wasn’t having it,” the BET schmuck frowned.

  Hmm, that’s interesting. So she screwed the white fuck face, but wouldn’t do the black guy. I can’t listen to them for another minute. How dare they disrespect Charlotte like that? You NEVER talk about a woman that way. I don’t care who you are.

  “Yo, asshole, watch your fucking mouth,” I bite out.

  Disney is too wasted to care and really, I’m not sure if he even heard me. “I’m tellin’ ya, man, that bitch is fine. She’s got this ass like…POW…and her tits, dude…”

  That’s it! I can’t take another word that comes out of this shithead's mouth. I’m going to fucking kill him! I stand up so quickly and with so much power that my chair flies out from under me and topples to the floor. Nick and my father both jump out of their seats when they realize what’s going on.

  “Calm down C-dog, they are just drunk and talking out of their asses,” Nick says to me, trying to get me to cool down before I end up in jail.

  “Get them out, Nick. Get them the fuck out of my club and out of my face, before I rearrange theirs.” I snarl. Laid back Calvin has definitely left the building.

  Nick tells me to take a walk out of the room and not to come back for ten minutes. I slide my mask back on and head downstairs. I take that time to do a once around the bar area, make sure the clientele and employees are behaving appropriately, and ensure all of the anonymity rules are being followed. I check in briefly with the new girl at the front door – Monica, my usual ball busting girl at the door, has the night off - close out the cash register at the bar, and do a money drop into the safe in my office. Once I feel composed – and sober – I make my way back up to the reserved poker room.

  I don’t know what Nick did or said, but when I reenter the room, everyone, minus frick and frack, is engaged in what looks like pleasant conversations. They have also started playing cards again. I sit in the empty seat next to Parker, who is the only one not involved in a conversation. I know he knows that I am sitting beside him, but he just stares blankly at his cards, not looking in my direction. At first, I think he is passed out drunk, but then he speaks.

  “I’m sorry, man,” he says quietly, still not meeting my eyes.

  “What?” I ask, unable to understand his mumble.

  “I shouldn’t have brought them. Sorry,” he says again.

  “Thank you, but you have no reason to be sorry. You didn’t make them act foolish.”

  “Yeah, but I knew their history with Charlie. And I also know that you are interested in her,” he adds.

  I nod my head acknowledging that I understand what he is saying. I clasp my hand on his shoulder as I stand up. “No harm, no foul. Just don’t bring those ass clowns around anymore.”

  He nods and smiles. “Sure thing, C-dog. We cool?” he asks, and I can see the sincerity in his eyes.

  I push my hand toward him and we fist bump. That’s as close as it gets with guy to guy affection. Man hugs are reserved for extreme circumstances. This does not constitute one.

  I smile back at him fondly. Nick may be my closest confidant, but Parker is like a brother to me.

  “We cool.”

  Chapter Five

  Calvin

  I woke up early this morning because I felt the need to go for a run. I need to clear my head. Charlotte is doing a number on my nervous system. Of course, it is foggy and drizzling, so I opt for the gym in my building. They have plenty of treadmills that I can bang this shit out of my head on.

  It has been a few days since the whole poker debacle - and a lot longer since I have seen my delectable little peach - and I still can’t wrap my mind around the enigma that is Charlotte Fisher. I usually pride myself on knowing women – what they want, how to make them feel good, how to extract a smile at the drop of a hat – but she has me completely stumped. Stupefied. And I don’t like it. I need to know what she is thinking. What she is feeling. Shit, I sound like a goddamn woman. Because of this, and because I don’t want to acknowledge what that kiss meant or how it made me feel, I have been a complete pussy and have avoided her altogether.

  I bang around in the gym for a couple of hours longer than I usually do then decide it is finally time to get my head out of my ass and go to work. Monica is supposed to be back today and I need to brief her about the moron that filled in for her at the front door of the club over the weekend and for the past few days. The one I will be firing. I can’t tolerate ineptitude.

  I pull into work and the parking lot is virtually empty. By dinnertime, it will be packed to the gills. We do have clients come in and out throughout the day. They usually just want to use a private room for a few hours. Since we pride ourselves on anonymity and discretion, we have a bunch of high profile men – judges, politicians, city officials – that come in and take advantage of the quiet hours. Some rent the room by the hour, and some have a standing reservation for a specific room for months in advance. As long as they are paying their bills, it’s none of my business what they are using it for or who they are using it with, as long as they pass their backgrounds.

  I grab a bunch of paperwork and crap from my car, and head in. Of course, Monica is at the front door. I never have to worry about her doing her job, whether I am here or not. It is nice to have employees you can trust and rely on.

  “Hey, mama, how was your time off?” I ask as I approach her.

  She smiles genuinely. “Oh, it was so good! Thanks for letting me have a weekend.”

  “Well, don’t get used to it.” I chuckle. “That replacement you trained sucked balls. She’s out.”

  “Shit, sorry Calvin. I really thought she could handle it.”

  “Not your fault, hun. But no more night’s off ‘til we can find someone as good as you!” I say in all seriousness, but wink at her, trying to soften the blow that I just told her she couldn’t take another night off anytime soon.

  “I understand. So, how was your weekend? Poker night, right?”

  “Yeah, it was cool. I had fun with my boys. Took a bunch of their money.” I chuckle at the memory of Nick’s face when I won the biggest pot of the night against him. Why he would go all-in with a pair of sevens is beyond me. He must have thought I was bluffing. Asshole!

  When I come back to the present, I remember my manners. “Did you do anything fun?” I ask her.

  At this point, I really don’t care. Not to be an ass or anything, but discussing information regarding her personal life is not a line I want to cross. I like the friendly banter, but ultimately, I am her boss, and I need to keep clear boundaries. I also don’t want her to get the wrong idea. I would never screw an employee! That’s all Nick! Ha! I crack myself up!

  “Actually, yeah, I had a great weekend! I went to check out that new wine bar that just opened.”

  “Uh huh. Okay, was it nice?” I feign interest.

  “So much fun. They were having a speed dating night, so I decided to join in for the hell of it.”

  “Sounds interesting.” I throw in there. Is she done talking yet? She is a great employee, but damn, does she ever shut up?

  “That wasn’t the interesting part…” she says like she has a secret.

  I quirk an eyebrow at her but don’t say a word. If she wants to tell me she can, but I am not going to beg for information. But then she answers my eyebrow. And it’s the last thing I expect to hear. I am knocked on my ass!

  “I ran into your friend there. The one that just got engaged to Nick…” is all she says and my blood begins to boil. Why is Delilah at a singles’ bar?

  “No way. Are you sure it was her?” I ask not believing her. She must be mistaken.

  “Yeah, Cal. She was there with that girl that she always comes here with. The curly blonde with the rockin’ bod.”

  “Charlotte?” I ask. No way would she do that. She could have her pick of men.

  “No, that doesn’t sound familiar.”

  I take a breath of relief for a second before my brain kicks back in.

  “Charlie?” I ask this time, knowing that is the nickname she goes by here at the club – and everywhere else. God damn, Charlotte! She is supposed to use an anonymous nickname, not one that anyone outside of these four walls could track her down.

  “Yeah! Charlie.” Monica exclaims, proud that she figured out the puzzle. Little does she know that I am freaking the fuck out on the inside. Son of a bitch!

  I hand my shit to Monica and tell her to put it in my office. I tell her I won’t be back until tonight and walk the fuck out the door. I need to talk to Nick. Now. But how the fuck do you tell your best friend that his fiancée is speed dating at singles’ bars? Shit. Let’s hope he doesn’t shoot the fucking messenger.

  More Calvin…

  I walk through the maze that is the Santino Law Firm and make my way to Nick’s private wing. As soon as Delilah spots me, she jumps out of her seat from behind her desk and steps into me, giving me a tight hug. She has a huge smile on her face, genuinely happy to see me. I tamp down my anger toward her and hug her back. It’s so hard being upset with someone so wonderful. I need to speak to Nick and get to the bottom of the situation before I do or say something to Delilah that I would regret.

  “Hey, Little Bit. Your man available?”

  She smiles back at me with such affection, my heart starts hurting for all of the bad things I was thinking about her on my way here.

  “Of course. Always for you,” she answers and lets out a cute laugh snort. She is so awkwardly adorable. I totally get what Nick sees in her. They are perfect for each other. Shit! Am I going to crush their relationship by what I am about to discuss with Nick? Fuck, I’m an asshole.

  I let out a small chuckle. Partly from her comment about him always being available for me - even though he is the busiest motherfucker I know - and partly from the nose snort.

  “Yeah, I guess he is. He’s either at work, or I know I can find him with you,” I say and wink.

  Delilah blushes but then shakes it off. I love flirting with her, even though I know she is completely committed to Nick. At least I think she is. Shit!

  Delilah heads back behind her desk and picks up her phone. She calls to Nick through her intercom.

  “Hey, babe?”

  “Yeah, Doll,” Nick answers in his “personal” voice. I have never heard him be anything but professional in his office, and for a second, I am caught off guard.

  “There is a big, strapping man here to see you,” Delilah tells him, and I notice she is sporting a wry smile.

  “Is he about six five, black hair?” he asks, playing her game.

  Delilah looks me up and down, checking me out. Then looks me in the eyes before speaking. “And handsome. Very handsome.”

  “Delilah…” He bites out in warning.

  “Yes, Boss?” she asks coyly, but knows she is dancing toward the line that will get her into trouble.

  “Send him back, please.” Nick requests politely, but we both know he is becoming impatient.

  I see a glint in Delilah’s eyes and now I know she is doing it all on purpose, just to rile him up.

  “You mean I can’t keep ‘em?”

  “Delilah...” Nick barks and I know he is done with the game.

  I step around Delilah’s desk, gently take the phone from her, and hang up.

  “I better go in there before he comes out and drags us both in by our hair,” I say jokingly.

  Delilah chuckles and shocks the hell out of me with her next statement.

  “That may not be such a bad thing.” Then she winks at me. She fucking winks at me!

  “On that note…” is all I can get out before opening the door to Nick’s office and walking in.

  Calvin still…

  I saunter through Nick’s office door still chuckling at my exchange with Delilah. I love her newfound self-confidence. I falter for a moment when I realize it could be some other dude giving it to her.

  Nick is sitting behind his desk, staring at a thick file in front of him. He decided to practice criminal law the same semester I decided to drop out. In fact, it was the same exact case we were studying that sent us in two opposite directions. He still felt as though he could change the legal system that I ultimately gave up on. All of these years later, Nick Santino is considered to be the top criminal attorney in New York, and is ranked in the Who’s Who throughout the country. Pretty impressive, right?

  “Nick,” I greet him with nod.

  He looks up at me from his file. “Shit. What’s wrong?” he asks knowing that I am not myself.

  That’s the good and the bad about having a friend that can read you so well. There is no getting anything past him. I lower myself into the chair in front of his desk, facing him.

  “Why do you assume something is wrong?” I ask a bit defiantly.

  Nick leans forward in his chair and steeples his hands, leaning them on the desk in front of him.

  “First of all, you are sitting in my office in the middle of the day, when I know for a fact that you need to be at work.”

  “Whatever, I have been to your office plenty of times before.”

  “Be that as it may, add in the fact that you called me Nick – not Nico, my man, or bro – and I know that something is up with you. So I will ask one more time, what’s wrong?”

  “My man, I don’t know how to even have this conversation with you.” I say dejectedly, unable to look him in the eyes.

  “Dude, you are freaking me the fuck out. Just say it, and look at me, will ya?”

  “You want me to just fucking lay it out there?”

  “Hell yeah! Rip the mother fucking band-aid already!”

  “Okay, dude, but don’t shoot the fucking messenger.” I rub my hand up and down my face, trying to relieve some stress. I love Delilah like a sister, but my loyalty ultimately lies with Nick. This is going to devastate him.

  “Fucking say it, Cal!” he is completely exasperated with me and I really don’t blame him.

  Shit! I can’t put it off any longer. I turn to look at Delilah and she is doing work on her computer, not paying us any mind. The guilt settles in my stomach and I feel the bile rise in my throat.

  “She can’t hear us, right?” I ask quietly, jerking my thumb over my shoulder at her through the glass.

  “No. Is this about her? Just fucking spit it out.”

  I let it out quickly, being the band-aid ripper he asked for. For a split second, I regret my decision to tell him, but I know that I would never forgive him if he kept this kind of information from me. As I allow the words to roll off my tongue, it leaves a sour taste in my mouth, my stomach roiling from the anxiety of telling my best friend his girl hasn’t been faithful.

  I take a deep breath, not knowing how this is going to go. “Delilah is cheating on you.”

  Nick leans back in his chair, puts his hands behind his head, and swings his legs up onto his desk in a completely relaxed position.

  “Nope, not my LaLa.”

  “What? Nico, dude, come on.”