The look of a champion crossed his face. He was used to getting his way. “I’ll give you space. I’ll even let you run away. But, Sugar baby, I’m hot on your trail. You won’t know what hit you.”

He whistled for the second time and walked away. Wiping her smeared lip gloss, she sat up quickly and collected herself. Hot on my trail? What about when he was done with her? That was the problem. He would be done, and she would be a sad excuse for an old flame.

***

Hours had passed since Sugar had sought refuge in her hotel suite, and now she was being forced out. She was allowed a moment to fortify herself with liquid courage.

She slammed her shot glass onto the kitchenette’s granite counter at the same time as Nicola did. They both reached for their lemons. The bitterness made Sugar squint, but that was the point—the sour burn of distraction.

“Nice.” Nicola smacked her lips, tossing her lemon into the trash can. “Can we go now?”

Sugar grabbed her gloss and applied a fresh coat. Right about then, she would’ve gone anywhere Nicola suggested, so long as it was a diversion from her day. “Yup. Let’s do this.”

Sugar’s outfit said not only that she wanted a distraction but that she was one. Their ladies’ night would be fun, and she could care less who was in the club. Jared surely wouldn’t be. That would be like storing a warhead at a playground. The two didn’t mix.

There was a small chance that he would be around, brooding in a hallway somewhere, ready to screw with her head. But while she was wearing her club getup, he was likely to pin her to a wall, and that involved a whole different type of screwing with her. One could always dream… Hell, stop that!

“Sugar?” Nicola narrowed her eyes. “What’d you say?”

Lord knows what she’d said. “Nothing worth repeating.”

“Ha. I bet.”

Glossy lips and a sexy outfit were in order. Just in case they did a walk-by and found Jared smoldering in some corner. She would keep walking, even if her Louboutins suddenly became concrete blocks.

They headed out. Hallway, clear. Elevator, clear. No Jared anywhere in sight.

“You look disappointed.” As she and Sugar exited the elevator, Nicola smiled like she knew the carousel of craziness that was Sugar’s brain on Jared. “Forget him. Let’s go dance.”

“I’m not—”

“Uh-huh. And I’m ready for a night by the fire with a book.” Nicola shot her a half-cocked grin. “Come on. We’ll grab a cocktail, scope the scene, and forget about our men.”

“You have a man. I have a headache.”

“Shit, girl. Cash is a constant headache. Doesn’t mean we don’t—”

“Finish that sentence, and this trial friendship is over.”

Nicola laughed, shaking her head. They walked into the hotel’s club, where the bouncers waved them in without as much as a glance. They were pretty girls heading into a room full of partying billionaires. Letting them waltz in was probably part of the bouncers’ job duties.