Being a Chef, you learned a thing or two.
1. You work well with your hands.
2. You're not afraid to get down & dirty.
3. You're all about pleasing.
4. You can satisfy every taste bud.
5. You can go on for hours without breaks.
6. You know how to han...
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I sit on the bed in Tristan's and my hotel room as Tiffany tries to call Nick yet again.
"It keeps going to voicemail. This isnt good." She huffs, calling once more. "Call Henry and see if he got kidnapped yet." she looks at me.
"Tiff, I dont have my phone, and I dont know his number off the top of my head. Also, why would he get—never mind, I don't want to know," I tell her. "Look, Jeffery and Patrick left already to find him. I'm sure they're at the airport as we speak; call one of them."
We didn't stay at the restaurant much longer after all the articles started to flood in. Chase's brother called, and things got a little heated, causing all the guys to leave. Tristan was reluctant, but I told him to go. I needed to do some damage control of my own, but when I called the restaurant, Janet said she had everything under control. Also, she told me if she caught Henry, she would cut off his dick and shove it down his throat.
Tristan's friends' wives wanted to linger back with me, but I told them I was okay. While a part of me wasn't, I didn't feel comfortable sharing that with them. The wives seem friendly, but I already have my fair share of girlfriends.
"Their phones are going straight to voicemail, too." Sage takes another sip of wine, tossing her phone on the bed. "I think we should enjoy this weekend and let the men handle this. Besides, everything has been paid for. We wouldn't want your husband's money to go to waste."
With everything going on, money spent on this hotel room means nothing. Tristan and his colleagues are heading back to either Georgia or New York; hell, I don't remember which one he said. Nick is probably heading back to Georgia to beat the shit out of Henry, leaving me to stay in Vegas to have fun. It doesn't seem right. The girls would love to stay here, but I can't do it.
"You ladies can stay if you want. I think I'm going to head back to Georgia." I huff, getting off the bed.
"Seriously?" Olivia whines. "You know if you go, we go."
"You don't have to go. Just stay; enjoy this weekend." I tell them.
"Bitch, if you think we're going to let you head back to Georgia alone, you're fucking crazy. We're coming with you, no questions asked." Olivia looks down at her phone. "I can see if there are any flights leaving within the next three hours."
"No need. I will ask Miguel to see if he can get us a private jet." Tiffany says, and all of our heads snap to her. I don't want to be the first one to say it; hell, I don't want to say it, period. I'm pretty sure that Miguel guy has a wife. There is no way--Tiffany wouldn't sleep with a married man. I can bet my life on that.
"Do you know Miguel?" Sage asks. Tiffany shrugged her shoulder, saying they had an encounter two years ago and didn't want to talk about it. "Did you sleep with him?" Sage wasn't going to let this go.
"We did." She answers. "And now, let's stop talking about it."
"No. We're going to talk about it. There is no way you can text him to get us a private jet and think we're not gonna talk about it." Olivia raises an eyebrow at her. "So, is he the guy you were gushing about for a few months back then, and suddenly, you stop talking about said mystery guy?"
