Chapter 3 Carrie 002

"Of course." He gave me the notepad, his smile widening once again. As I took it from him, he lingered for a moment, his grip tightening just slightly. “I will make sure to collect that favor when the time is right,” he said,looking at me with his deep blue eyes glinting with something unreadable. He held on for what felt like forever before finally letting the notepad slip from his fingers.

My face turned even redder, and without a word, I whipped around and rushed back to my seat.

I let out a soft sigh and sank into my chair, the girls staring at me with wide eyes and mouths slightly agape.

“You mean to tell me I have been sitting here this long and still no drink?”I teased, flashing them the notepad with the ten digits. Krissy grabbed it from me before I could react.

“Gavin, huh? Is this his name? Yeah, that is definitely not is real phone number,” she said, frowning. With an annoyed sigh, she pulled out her iPhone, punched in the digits, and dialed the number.

We all turned to look at Gavin, who had just lifted his phone to his ear.

“…Hello?” His voice rang out from Krissy’s phone, confirming what none of us wanted to admit.

Krissy ended the call in a hurry and shot me a look. I tried to cover my surprise with a smile.

“So… is anyone going to get me my next Lemon Drop, or do I have to beg?”

“Well, well, good for you,” she said, grinning. “When are you planning to call?”

My smile faded. “I’m not doing that. That was not part of the agreement.”

Krissy must have caught the edge in my voice, because she didn’t push it. She just ordered me another drink and let the topic die.

The Lemon Drop was doing its job, my pulse slowed, my nerves unwound, but I could not stop sneaking glances at Gavin, memorizing every detail. He wasn’t sitting alone now. A man around forty-something leaned in close, speaking with him. I wondered if it was his boss. He had the look of a CEO, sharp suit, polished shoes, and money written all over him. He was surprisingly handsome for his age, with a lean, well-kept frame. There was power in his posture, an effortless confidence that time hadn’t touched. His dark eyes were sharp, calculating. Most likely the boss.

The bar had filled up, a mix of people in sharp business suits and the relaxed dress-casual look of a Friday evening crowd. Good vibes and affordable drinks made Huggins the place to be after hours, particularly come Friday happy hour. In Midtown, drinks usually ran close to twenty a pop, which made the nine-dollar martinis here a welcome surprise.

“Hello? You still with us?” Krissy teased, pulling me out of my little daydream. “You coming with me, or are you planning to sit here all night?

“Where exactly are we going? What’s this about?”

“I literally said I need to get my nails done before we hit the town tonight.”

“Can’t make it tonight. I need to get some work done on my paper—it’s due in a few weeks.”

“Seriously? You’re staying home on a Friday night after the hottest guy in town just flirted with you?”

“Cut it out, Kris. There is more to life than partying every weekend. Besides, I came out tonight. That is something.” I didn’t mention that the place was practically en route to my apartment and that the appetizers I’d eaten were all I’d be having tonight. “He wasn’t hitting on me, Kris. I was hitting on him. Don’t you remember?”

Krissy got her master’s last year. I should’ve finished with her, but a family issue set me back a year. Which is why I was still buried in coursework while she partied every weekend.

I looked back toward the bar to sneak another glance at Gavin, but he was nowhere in sight. I hadn’t even seen him leave. Damn it.

Guess that is how it ends. He left the bar without even trying to talk to me again. Whatever. I probably was not ever going to run into him again. Yeah, I had his number, but calling him? Not happening. It wasn’t exactly my style to call a guy and ask him out, and let’s be honest; he probably only gave me his number so I could win that stupid bet. It wasn’t like he was genuinely interested or found me attractive. Of course he wouldn’t be. Men like him never look twice at girls like me; they have got models lining up for their attention. It’s not that I thought I was unattractive—I just wasn’t the kind of woman people noticed twice. My curls framed a pleasant enough face, but not one that lingered in anyone’s memory. My brown eyes were warm, like dark chocolate, but easily forgotten. Even my figure was nothing special—neither slim nor curvy. My chest? Not flat, but definitely not the kind that turned heads. Like I said, just… average.