Nigel’s eyes grew large. “That’s the defense attorney? Hold up. That tall, curvy, celestial being is the one who might be representing Tania?” Nash chuckled at his friend’s facial expression. “Hell, she doesn’t look like any attorney I’ve ever seen.”
“How you gon’ be ogling a woman as married as you are?” Nash tasted the martini that he hadn’t touched. “What would Dawn say?”
Nigel and Dawn were the poster couple for happily ever after. Married for ten years, the two were always stealing kisses, holding hands or sharing naughty looks. At times it was almost nauseating to witness their public displays of affection, but on the other hand, it was nice to see two people so very much in love.
Nigel took a swig of his beer. “I might be married, but I’m not dead. There’s no harm in looking. Besides, the woman is kind of hard to miss. Actually they all are,” he said, referring to Iris and her sisters. “And isn’t that Janna Morgan, the supermodel, at their table?”
“Yep, they’re all sisters. The other one is a doctor.” Nash looked over again just as Iris returned to the table. He still couldn’t get over how good she looked in the skintight red dress. She definitely didn’t look like a defense attorney tonight.
Nash turned his attention back to Nigel. “So when is this group going to perform? Today has been a crazy long day and this mess with Tania has made it even longer.”
“Well, I hate to break it to you, but I think your day is about to get worse. Don’t look now, but your ex, the not-so-lovely Eve Vanlough, just walked in.”
Nash glanced over his shoulder and groaned. If he didn’t know any better, he would think she was following him. They broke up over two months ago and lately Eve surfaced at the most inopportune times, claiming her sudden appearances were a coincidence. He didn’t believe in coincidences. It was time to nip this nonsense in the bud once and for all.
Eve stopped at their table. “Well, funny meeting you—”
“Cut the crap,” Nash growled and stood. He gently grabbed her by the elbow, pulled her out of the main dining room and didn’t stop until they were in the atrium. “I don’t know what the hell you’re up to, but I suggest you back off. If I go to one more place and you show up, I’m getting a restraining order.”
“Oh, Nash, sweetie, aren’t you being overly dramatic?” she said in that whiny tone that always grated on his nerves. She moved in closer, straightening his tie before running her hands down his chest. “I can’t help that we like the same restaurants. I’m here meeting a friend and I just happened to see you and your shadow in there.” She nodded toward the table where Nash had left Nigel. “I figured the least I could do is go over and say hello. Besides, I’ve missed you.”
He grabbed hold of both of her hands and backed her into the corner, away from the entrance. “Eve, when are you going to stop playing these games? This is one of many reasons why we’re not together. You don’t know when to back off.”
Her heavily made-up face screwed up in anger and she jerked out of his grasp. “If you break up with me, you’re going to be sorry!”
“Excuse me?” He narrowed his eyes at her. “I’m the last person you want to threaten, and for the record, we broke up months ago. Apparently you haven’t grasped that fact yet.”
She glared at him as if her little five-foot-six self could intimidate him. That lasted a whole five seconds before she changed her tune.
“I’m sorry.” She pulled a tissue out of her purse and dabbed at her invisible tears. “This breakup has been really hard on me. I thought we had something special, that we would one day get married.”
Nash relaxed his shoulders and sighed. She had to know her tears no longer affected him, but maybe if he tried a different approach she’d finally get the message.
“Listen, Eve, I didn’t mean to hurt you, but you knew going in that I wasn’t interested in anything serious. I was up-front with you from the beginning. I’m not looking to get married to you or anyone else.”
Thanks to his college sweetheart, Nash had promised himself years ago that he would never allow a woman full access to his heart again. He and Audrey had dated their first year at UCLA, and talked about getting married upon graduation. During their last year of college, Audrey dumped him for the school’s star quarterback, whose family came from old money. She told Nash she wanted to marry rich, instead of marrying someone who had the potential of being rich.
He would never forget how she took his love and his heart and stomped the hell out of them. The only thing good that came out of the experience was that it spurred him to work his butt off to become a successful multimillionaire.
“Nash, honey, I know you said you weren’t interested in marriage, but I thought...”
He placed his hand against Eve’s cheek, suddenly feeling sorry for her. She leaned into his touch, shutting her eyes and then reopening them as she met his gaze.
“I’m sorry, Eve. I hate things turned out the way they did, but I can’t do this anymore.” He dropped his arm and turned to walk back into the restaurant, but flinched when a camera flash blinded him.
“Mr. Dupree...Mr. Dupree...Mr. Playboy Dupree. Is this your latest victim who you’re kicking to the curb?”
Damn. Nash ducked his head, put his arm up to block any additional photos and hurried back into the restaurant. This was the second time in the past couple of weeks that he’d been bombarded by some paparazzo mentioning him being a playboy. Now that he thought about it, Eve had been there then, too.
* * *
Hours later, Nash sat in the office at Platinum Pieces–Midtown, his first Atlanta nightclub. To get his mind off women, he was catching up on paperwork. He sifted through documents and reviewed report after report from his business managers, hoping to make a dent in the pile.
“Okay, boss, all the patrons are out and everything is locked up,” the club’s manager said from the doorway. “We’re going to head out. You coming?”
Nash glanced at his watch, noting the late hour, and then glanced at the short stack of file folders on his desk. “Nah, I have about an hour of work left. You guys go ahead and I’ll catch up with you tomorrow.”
His manager hesitated. Tall and burly, he looked more like a wrestler than a club manager. “I can stick around for another hour. Just holler when you’re ready to leave.”
Since one of the female servers had been mugged late one night when leaving the club, Nash had instituted a policy: no one, regardless of gender or age, left the building alone after closing time. While spending most of his days and evenings at the new location, he’d temporarily forgotten the rule. Nash wasn’t too concerned about his safety. The club, located in Midtown Atlanta, had good exterior lighting. Growing up in Compton, California, he had learned at an early age how to take care of himself, but he didn’t want to be the one to start breaking rules.
“Actually, give me fifteen minutes to wrap things up.”
Nash should have been done with his paperwork hours ago, but his mind kept drifting to Tania—and Iris. This couldn’t have been a worse time for Tania to get into trouble, not that there ever was a good time. Nash was swamped with getting the new club and restaurant open, and the last thing he needed was to be worrying about her at juvenile detention. And then there was her lawyer. Iris. Even her name was sexy. How was a man to concentrate when visions of her took up so much space in his mind?
Always a sucker for a beautiful woman, he couldn’t help but wonder about the alluring defense attorney. Meeting her earlier at her office and then seeing her again at the restaurant was like experiencing two different women. One minute he was dealing with a reserved attorney and the next, a voluptuous babe.
That’s how Nash envisioned the lovely Iris Sinclair—a stuffy professional by day, fighting for her young clients, and a sex