Don't Mask, Don't Tell

Chapter 44

Music blares overhead unsuccessfully drowning out Eliza's rants about Mickey. Slouching in my barstool, I rest my chin on my palm against the sticky bartop and poke a cocktail pick at the floating olive in my drink. I sigh and toss back my third dirty martini of the evening. Instant regret washes over me for ordering this one dry. Notes of pine aggressively hit my tongue, and I cringe from the bitterness while goosebumps cover my skin.

With another healthy swig, I try to forget the gorgeous blonde that paraded through my office a few hours ago. Chugging down my drink, the alcohol kick warms my body, and slightly shifts my mood.

Axel isn't Jack. I know he wouldn't cheat on me with his secretary, but I can't help feeling this way. My chest tightens when I think about how stunning she looked as she disappeared behind my office door. I just wish I could talk to him. I miss him.

A stern, confident voice jars me from my pity party. "Whiskey neat and whatever she's having." The broad-shouldered man holds the bartender's stare while ordering. He towers over the crowd, sporting an all-black Armani suit. The light glints off the links of his gold watch as he flips his hand in a silent signal to a group of men in similar attire, before claiming the stool next to mine. He scoots closer.

Bold move.

Sliding a hundred across the counter, he winks at the bartender and tells her to keep the change. A bright red colors her cheeks as she bites her bottom lip and thanks him. He nods and flashes her a quick smile, then focuses his dark eyes back on me.

"Thank you." I push the cocktail towards him. "But I'm not interested."

He shrugs. "It's just a drink, hermosa."

"I have a boyfriend."

"I'd be shocked if you didn't." He cheekily grins, looking me up and down. But not in a creepy Chad kinda way. He looks at me like he wants to know all of my secrets. Like he's intrigued by me.

This move usually works for him.

I roll my eyes and glance over at Liza. Switching to Spanish, she continues to yell at Bjorn and his men for being cock blocks. Apparently, Mickey made it clear that he didn't want her near any dudes. Bjorn's team has followed those orders all night. She's fuming.

Fuming's an understatement.

The mysterious man sits next to me as I laugh at the expense of my best friend. He's close enough for me to hear him over the rumble of the bass, but leaves enough distance between us to avoid unwanted attention from my security. Very calculated.

"So where's this boyfriend of yours?" He arches a brow, sipping from his glass. "I wouldn't let you out of my sight if I was him."

"Well, good thing you aren't him."

A shallow smile creeps across the man's face. Shadows dance along his black eyes, sending a cold chill down my spine. I avoid his gaze and lose all remaining confidence.

Before he can try another line, a heavier set man in a loosely tailored blazer approaches. He reeks of cigar smoke mixed with Old Spice. "Boss, I have an update on—"

"Not now, Diego." The stranger next to me cuts the man off. He clenches his jaw for a brief moment before relaxing. "As you can fucking see—" he gestures in my direction, "—I'm in the middle of something."

Diego nods. Large beads of sweat form across his receding hairline. He gives me a nervous grin, revealing a golden tooth on one of his incisors. The five men in expensive suits at the end of the bar shout at him, breaking the uncomfortable silence. Diego doesn't waste another second to rejoin the group.