CHAPTER 22

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"Another round!" Nick called out, waving over a curvy waitress. The bar was full that night. They barely got a booth to sit at. The woman was bustling around, cheeks red. This was all so familiar. Once she had been in that girl's place. There were only two waitresses for the entire bar and it was Friday. She felt sorry for the poor souls. 

Layton sat besides Catherine, looking uncomfortable. He was squeezed into a corner he was obviously too hunky for. There was ever present scowl on his lips. Nick dodged the daggers thrown his way pretty well, each threatening look easily disregarded. Still, the handsome billionaire was making things awkward. 

"Quit making a face as if you smelled something bad." Catherine scolded. 

"But I did. It stinks like homeless man's breath here." 

"I highly doubt I want to know how you know that and you're free to leave anytime." 

"That's not happening." Layton glared at her, the blue eyes making the memo clear. 

"Fine. Then quit acting like a snob." The young woman shrugged her shoulders, her attention turning back to Nick and the waitress that was setting down the second round of beers. She had missed the intoxicating kick of booze in her blood. It had been so long since she last had a drink that the first beer was already having an impact. 

This felt nice...to let go and relax for once. 

"You didn't finish explaining. So, you went to New York and then what?" Nick started up the conversation once the girl had rushed off. 

"Oh, yeah. We went to this boring charity event or whatever. They fucking served snails." Catherine carried on, disregarding the strict look Layton was giving her. Once she learned to ignore his gaze the conversation flowed much smoother. 

Empty glasses kept piling up on the table as the two friends talked. Nick shared the things that had happened during the time they hadn't met, slipping in a couple complaints about the old owner of the club she used to work for. The man was still an ass apparently. 

Talking to Nick was always easy. He was a good listener and had just the right sense of humor to deal with the hyper woman across from him. They had clicked since day one.

"You should get a better job. You're a God behind the counter, at least find a place that pays decently." 

"Looks who's talking. You can finally pay the rent with your salary, hm?" Nick chuckled, swiftly turning the topic back to her. Not that she blamed him for it. Neither felt comfortable with Mr. Scary around.

"She doesn't have to. She lives with me." Layton who had been silent most of this time suddenly spoke.

Nick choked on his beer. "She *cough* what?" The shocked man cleared his throat. "So you're like...together?" 

"We are absolutely not!" Catherine panicked. Now it was her turn to glare at Layton. This had been the one thing she didn't want Nick to know and he blew it! 

"Another long story, yeah?" Nick gave her a knowing look, teasing glint in his eyes. 

"Yeah-" 

"Hey, pretty." A drunken voice came from besides their booth. "You don't look like you're having fun. Join us." A man in his mid thirties slurred, his eyes glazed over by unlimited amounts of alcohol. The guy and his two wobbly sidekicks walked as if the ground was a deck of a storm-tossed boat. She had seen them looking, but hoped they wouldn't bother. How wrong she was...

"No thanks." Catherine dismissed them without a second glance. Years working for clubs worse than this one had her inured to drunkards and their attempts on flirting. 

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