Page 9 of Forever Only Once

“But…a bar?” I asked.

“59th is good. And it looks like you could use a beer. Am I right?”

Chris laughed at his own joke, then waved and went back to his side of the building, closing the door behind him. I stood there, wondering what the fuck I was doing. Was I really going to a bar?

I looked down at my clothes and cursed. I needed to change if I wanted to look like I at least belonged there. I didn’t need to go covered in wood shavings. I went back to my office, grateful that I had slacks and a button-down stored there. Sometimes, I got too into my work and ran late for dinners with the family. I didn’t always have to dress up for them, but occasionally, we went out. So, I was lucky I had some clothes stashed.

I entered a note in my calendar to replace them, because if I didn’t, I’d surely forget, and then I checked my email for the info from Chris.

The client wanted some type of art sculpture that was not in my repertoire. It was more along the lines of what Chris did. But I looked down and figured we could talk about it, as well as the pricing that Chris had set up. I winced, knowing that it would suck going over those specifics with the woman, but this was Chris, and we needed the money for the business.

I looked down at myself, figured I looked presentable, and then headed to my car to go to 59th.

59th was a martini and vodka bar downtown. It wasn’t actually on 59th Street. Apparently, it was a sister bar to another one in a bigger city than Boulder, so they’d kept the name even without the matching street.

I had been there a couple of times, and they did have good drinks, if a bit overpriced.

Somehow, I found parking a block over, paid the ridiculous fee, and made my way to the establishment, knowing this was likely going to be a waste of time. I wasn’t the artist she was looking for. Besides, I had no idea what she looked like other than, according to Chris, she was “a hot brunette with ample curves and a nice rack.”

A sexual harassment suit waiting to happen that I would probably have to deal with if Chris ended up working with this woman.

I made my way inside and looked for a single woman with long, dark hair. I found one sitting alone at a high-top, looking down at her phone as if she were waiting for someone. She had long, brunette hair that fell down her back, a few strands over her shoulder. She wore a sexy green dress that seemed to wrap around and showcase her curves. She had on high heels that looked like they would make her trip, but I had a feeling she knew exactly how to walk in them. She seriously looked like sex and sin. Somehow, I both wanted her to be the right person and didn’t.

But it had to be her, there wasn’t another single woman in the place, and I was already running late. So, I made my way over to her and grinned.

“Hi, I think you’re looking for me.”

Her eyes widened, and she smiled and gestured at the seat across from her.

It took me a second to blink because of that smile, and then I sat down, letting out a sigh.

“Sorry, I’m late.”

“No worries, I was actually a little early.”

I looked at her then, my cock getting hard, the reaction pissing me the hell off. Yet I wondered how the hell I had never met this woman before, and why Chris had been the one to meet her first.

And then my phone buzzed, and I looked down and wanted to slam my head against the table at the same time I felt like laughing.

“What is it?” the woman asked.

“You’re not Cassidy, are you?” I asked. Her eyes widened comically, and she shook her head. “No, I’m Hazel. You’re not Stavros?”

I snorted. “Nope, I’m Cross. I do believe I have encroached on your date.”

Turned out, Cassidy, the potential client, wasn’t coming, after all. However, I now found myself not wanting to leave.

And that was a problem.