“Iggy, still so charming.” I roll my eyes, listening to him laugh, and he tugs me in for a tight hug.
“I missed you, girl.” He lets me go and allows me to step past him into the dim hallway.
“Me too,” I say, finding Tracy at the end of the hall with his plaid-covered arms crossed over his chest, his beard and hair longer than I remember. Where Iggy was always the bad boy, Tracy had that rugged guy-next-door look about him.
“Hey, you.” He smiles, uncrossing his arms and walking toward me. As soon as I’m close, he hugs me, then leans back with a look that makes me tense.
“What?”
“Well.” He clears his throat. “Cohen stopped by tonight.”
My stomach drops, but I keep my expression neutral. “Okay.”
“I might have mentioned that I spoke to you… and that you were planning on coming by.”
“Did you?”
“He said he’s been trying to get ahold of you,” Iggy chimes in, and I look between both men.
“Is he here now?” I wait, every muscle in my body feeling tight.
“No, but he left his number, asked if I could give it to you.”
“I don’t need his number, and I don’t want to come across like a bitch, but I’m here for work.”
“Right,” Tracy says softly, looking over my shoulder at his brother. I don’t know what the look he gives him means, but I can guess they are both thinking I’m full of shit and still hung up on Cohen, which I’m not. I just don’t want anything to do with him. My past with him is right where it needs to be—firmly in my rearview mirror.
I glance at my watch and see it’s two minutes after nine. “I need to get out there and meet my client. We’ll have a drink sometime and catch up.”
“Sure,” Iggy says, while Tracy lifts his chin.
“It’s been good seeing you both.” I move around Tracy and head toward a closed door, feeling the thump of music as I get closer, the noise almost deafening as I push into the bar on the other side. The smell of fried food and stale alcohol making me feel almost nostalgic.
I don’t glance at the bar, as I walk across the dance floor, even though I could totally use a shot of tequila right about now. Scanning the area, I spot Maxim right off, sitting at a table in the back, half hidden by the shadows, with a glass of amber liquid in front of him. His appearance has changed over the years. Now, instead of an attractive boy, he’s a man with an air of authority and arrogance that is seriously appealing even from a distance.
As I get closer, I slow my steps, wanting to take a moment to study him, but his head turns in my direction, and our eyes lock. I might have been prepared for this, but I’m not prepared for the zap of electric heat I feel against my skin as a flicker of something that makes me warm flashes through his dark eyes. He leans forward, causing the light-gray button-down shirt he has on to stretch across his broad chest and thick arms, and he raises a brow—in a challenge?
Reminding myself that I deal with men I find good-looking all the time, I pull myself together and walk across the room, closing the space between us and watching him stand.
“April,” his deep voice rumbles, and a tingle slides down my spine and right between my legs. “Still beautiful.”
Okay, so this might be an issue.
“Maxim.” I get close and grab his hard bicep as he leans down to place a kiss on my cheek, the scent of him and the coarse scruff on his jaw sending my hormones into overdrive.
“Sit,” he orders, holding out a chair. Once my ass is firmly in the seat, he towers over me. “What would you like to drink?”
“Water please.”
“Be right back.” His hand slides across the top of my shoulders as he walks away, his touch burning my skin. I take a deep breath, then another as I watch him saunter to the bar, every woman in the place turning to check him out as he passes. Needing something to do, I pull out the file for the bar from my bag and start to look over the information Frank sent me. Not surprising, the bar makes a killing most months, with the overhead pretty low, considering the amount of employees on staff.
“Your water.” Maxim places a glass down in front of me before he takes his seat.
“Were you waiting long?” I pick up my glass and take a sip.
“Not long.” He places his arm on the back of the chair next to him while his thick fingers circle the mouth of his glass.
“So what do you think about this place?”
“It’s nice. Not really my style, but this is Nashville, not Vegas.”
“You’re right about that.” I shift on my seat, trying to remember if a man has ever made me this aware before, and my mind flashes back in time. At sixteen he made me nervous, but now I know how to handle a good-looking man. “I should tell you that if you purchase this place with plans to change the vibe, that will not go over well. People who live here and those that come into town are all about jeans, beer, and country music. Not fancy dresses and champagne.”
“I wouldn’t change anything.” He takes a drink from his glass, his eyes never leaving mine.
“That’s good.” I clear my throat and hand him over the information sheet from the folder. “The monthly income for this location looks great even during the slower months, and more and more events are happening in Nashville on a regular basis, so I’d say you’d be in the green within….” My sentence trails off when a small, cold hand lands on my shoulder, and Maxim comes out of his relaxed position.
Turning in my seat, I tip my head back and bite back a curse. If I were a superhero, Lexi would without a doubt be my archnemesis. I’ve known her for years, because her aunt, who is beyond talented, has designed every single one of my tattoos, but she hasn’t changed in that time. She is one of those women who is catty, loud, and annoying as hell, which is why she goes through friends faster than she goes through men. Life for her is a competition. She wants what other people have and still hasn’t figured out that’s exactly why she is so miserable.
“I thought that was you.” Lexi smiles at me before looking over the top of my head at Maxim, giving him a onceover that states clearly she likes what she sees. “Who’s your friend?”
“Not interested,” he says simply, and I fight back a smile as she laughs, tossing her long, lavender mixed with blond hair over her shoulder.
“Easy, big boy. Just curious about April’s new friend.” She looks back at me. “I haven’t seen you out much lately.”
“I’ve been busy with work.”
“Yeah, I heard you got into real estate. Good for you.” She looks at Maxim once more, and I can tell by the baffled expression she tries to hide that he’s not giving her the attention she is used to. Knowing her, she thought him telling her he wasn’t interested was actually his way of telling her he was. “Well, I’m going to take off. You guys have fun tonight.”
“You too.” I watch her walk away, then start to turn back to Maxim but freeze when I see Brock, Cohen’s brother, walk into the bar, looking exactly like I remember. Which is just like his twin brother. The only thing making them distinguishable is the scar that slices through Brock’s left brow.