↠ Open Novella Contest Long List finalist.
Private Investigator, Alexander Hart has it all, he oozes confidence and charm.
Women want him and men want to be him.
But life wasn't always so perfect, was it Alex?
You can change your name and your lo...
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I look down at my watch, half an hour has passed since I last saw Summer, meaning I have half an hour to find the other two bozo's and meet Summer.
Taking note of Rielle's remark I head towards the bar in hopes of finding Casper Eston and a double shot whiskey on the rocks.
The latter appears to come first when a bartender thrusts just that into my hand. I bring the glass up to my lips and down the drink in one sip, turning to the bartender and signalling for another. The second drink comes quickly and instead is downing it in one fell swoop I nurse it while scanning my surrounds.
At the far right of the bar, I spot someone with blond hair nursing a beer and looking mighty depressed considering the atmosphere. I decide there's no time like the present and slink through the hordes of people trying to get a drink and drop into the seat beside the blond stranger.
Up close I can hear him sigh, I can feel the discontentment radiating from him.
"Rough night?" I turn to him, hoping he will elaborate.
"Rough night?" He chuckles bitterly. "Try rough week."
"Oh, yea?" I retort. "Try me." I mean, how hard can your life be when you have anything you could wish for presented to you on a gold platter?
The blond, beer wielding stranger beside me turns to me and raises a brow.
"I'm Alexander," I state before the conversation can turn hostile.
"Casper," he nods his head.
Check. I cross off my mental checklist.
Casper sighs a deep and regretful sigh.
"Well," He starts. "I went to the Landon's annual ball last week." I nod in understanding, willing him to continue.
"And I took this girl up to the hotel." Double check.
"We had an amazing night," his hips thrust at the memory and I vomit in my mouth a little. Triple check.
"But she contacted me last night to say that she's pregnant," Casper continues, a look that can't be described as anything other than sadness flashes through his eyes, while a look of happiness fills mine. Whoops.
"Fuck, man. That sucks," I sympathise.
"I took a girl back to the hotel that night too," I begin, I can see that I have his full attention when he abandons picking at the label of his beer. "I just found out that I caught a nasty strain of chlamydia and thought that way bad enough," I down the rest of my double shot whiskey.
"I'd much rather that over a kid though." I really fucking wouldn't, but he doesn't need to know that.
"Hear, hear," he chants, signalling the bartender to bring a couple of shots of tequila over.
