A Capital Mistake Read online

  “You know what? I have an idea,” Nora chirps. “Let’s go out somewhere special tonight.”

  My glare intensifies as I cock my head in a scowl.

  “Come on! I’m not kidding,” she says. “We’ll do a rain check on our nail appointment. I’m off work tomorrow and I happen to have a good friend working security for Club Red tonight, it’s perfect!” My continued glare does nothing to faze her. Quite the opposite, actually.

  I decide to switch the most somber frown I can muster. It’s my best attempt at a guilt trip, and it does absolutely nothing.

  “Oh Sophia, I can’t wait. This is going to be so fun. It’s been forever, hasn’t it?”

  “There’s a reason for that. I haven’t been to a club since college. Not one.” I hold my frown. “That’s not changing anytime soon.”

  “Yes, which means tonight is the perfect occasion,” she says. “And, this time I know you don’t have a real excuse. So let’s do it. I’m forcing you into this one.”

  “No. Nora, no. I may be suspended, but I’m still a cop. Clubs and off duty detectives don’t blend well. End of conversation.”

  “Listen,” she says soberly. “I’m going to tell you something you probably don’t want to hear, okay? But if you’re going to join the rest of us in the normal world for the next two weeks, then you’re going to need to let go of the stern cop persona. At least not for every breathing second, all right? Give yourself a break.”

  “I just don’t think it’s a good idea is all,” I say, but the feeling of defeat is already setting in. “We can do something else. I’ll call the spa and reschedule. We can do breakfast tomorrow morning, but I’m going to stay home tonight.”

  “And do what?” Her eyebrows arch when I don’t answer immediately. “We both know you’re not going to sleep, that’s obvious.” She looks me up and down to make her point. “Come on Sophia, give me one night to shake you out of your rut. What if it’s just what you need? It’s worth a chance.”

  I try for one final protest but Nora delivers the final punch.

  “Oh, this will so fun!”

  Chapter Three

  Sophia

  I already have a headache.

  The lights, the noise, the inability to move without pushing through three other people at once—I was ready to leave exactly two minutes after we arrived. Why any club would place their bar three feet inside the entrance is a mystery to me. My headache probably stems from having to shove through a hundred people just to walk in the door.

  And not only that, but I stick out like a sore thumb. Maybe not at a passing glance, but anyone that glimpsed my face would probably think I was ill. That, or high on whatever drugs are being dealt in this place.

  Nora remerges in front of me. “Here—to you from me,” she says. “Cheers!”

  “What flavor is this?” I ask, raising my neon red margarita.

  “A Club Red Marg.” She takes a drink and licks her lips theatrically. “Tastes like strawberry.”

  I take a sip and wince. She’s not wrong, there’s a hint of strawberry but the other ninety percent is tequila.

  Nora smirks at me. “I know right? They make ‘em strong. But I bought it myself, Officer, so I promise it’s not drugged.”

  “Not funny.”

  I don’t even have time to take another drink before Nora pulls me toward an open booth on the opposite side of the club.

  She sits down, sets her drink on the table, and turns to face me. “Okay, in all seriousness, you look like I’m dragging you to a root canal or something. Will you lighten up a little?”

  “I’m fine.” I take a sip from my glass as if reinforcing my response.

  “Remember what I said about the whole cop persona thing?”

  “My stern cop persona, you mean?”

  Her expression almost looks amusing with strobe lights flashing across it. “You look like you want to arrest everyone in here right now,” she says.

  I force a laugh, but Nora ignores it. “Hey, stop it,” I say, “I’m fine, I promise. I just need to settle in.” I clink my glass against hers in a mock cheers.

  “Yes, more of that. We’re aiming for fun tonight. Not blah, I’m fine.”

  My laugh’s not entirely forced this time. Her imitation of me was so deep and melodramatic that it was actually kind of funny.

  She slaps my leg. “I’m being serious!”

  “I know, I know,” I tease. I’m already beginning to feel the strength of the drink in my limbs. “So… who do you know here again?”

  “His name’s Anthony, he’s a bouncer.” She cranes her neck as if it’ll do anything to help her scan over the crowd. “I haven’t seen him yet, he wasn’t at the door. But he did tell me that he’s seen Knicks players in here before.” She bobs her eyebrows at that.

  “Uh-huh, how exciting for him. And how exactly did you meet Mr. Anthony?” I mimic her eyebrow bob.

  “Not in here,” she says. “That’s a coincidence.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  “Excuse me.” There’s a voice from behind my shoulder accompanied by a slight bump as they nudge to my side. “I was wondering what you two are drinking tonight?”

  Nora raises her glass with a smile.

  “That’s a good choice. Would you let me buy your next round?”

  “Maybe if you tell us your name.”

  “I was getting there.” He shoots her a cocky smirk. “It’s James.”

  She shakes his extended hand. “I’m Nora, this is Sophia.”

  I smile when it’s my turn to shake. The sleeve of his white shirt is rolled up enough to reveal an enormous forearm. Everything about him is enormous. He looks like he probably carries my entire weight in just his upper torso alone.

  “What brought you out tonight?” he asks Nora.

  “Nothing special. Just a girls night.” She smirks at me.

  “Good deal,” he says, faking an awkward laugh. He looks at me then back to Nora. “You two known each other awhile then?”

  “We met in college,” she chirps. There’s an undeniable hint of delight in her voice and I can’t help but smile at it. Our friendship formed so effortlessly that it’s kind of astonishing it became as strong as it has. I would’ve never guessed that my freshman year lab partner, the reason I failed my first college assignment, would become my best friend. But it’s times like this that make me realize how oddly fit we are for each other.

  Although… she owes me one after tonight.

  It’s so stuffy that I swear I’m inhaling other people’s sweat with every breath. I take a sip and scan over the crowd. For a while my eyes bounce from person to person until they lock with someone standing at the other end of the bar.

  Immediately I look away.

  James has inched significantly closer to me. I take a drink and pretend to acknowledge the conversation between he and Nora. Something about the hospital she works at. After a long beat, I chance another glance down the bar.

  Still looking.

  And he’s clearly looking at me. Not over my head, not at James, not even at Nora. He’s looking at me and he’s making no attempt to disguise it.

  And just then, he winks.

  Exhilaration balloons in my chest. I smile, unable to break our stare. He bobs his head and it takes me a split second to realize that he’s nodding at me. He’s calling me over.

  “Sophia?” Nora asks. She’s eyeing me when I turn my head. “She’s a homicide detective,” she says to James, evidently answering on my behalf.

  “Wow,” he hums in a tone I’ve heard a million times before. A tone that really means Oh shit, I don’t really know what I think about that.

  I nod and fake a smile before returning my glance down the bar.

  He’s still watching me. Waiting.

  “James is a physical trainer,” Nora says.

  “Oh, that’s cool.” I sound even more artificial than he did. “I’m going to go to the bathroom.”

  “You haven’t even finished your dr
ink,” she says, not hiding her irritation.

  I look down at my quarter-full margarita and gulp the rest.

  I’m going to need it.

  Chapter Four

  Noah

  The club’s surprisingly full tonight. I’ve never seen it without a crowd, though tonight it’s especially packed. And I hate it.

  Though, for what it is, Club Red is my favorite spot in town. There are plenty of places I won’t even touch. Owen could care less. If it’s got music, booze, and women, it’s enough to meet his standards.

  “Here’s to another success,” Owen says in cheers.

  “Absolutely.” I clink his glass and throw back my double-shot of Johnnie Walker, savoring the pleasant burn.

  I lean against the bar and survey the club while Owen uses two fingers to signal the bartender. She’s a cutie that seems to be working every time we come. She’s also held the throne of Owen’s number one obsession for at least the last year. And she knows it.

  “It’s been awhile.” She slides over another round from behind the counter.

  Owen raises his glass as a thank you. “We’ve been busy the last few weeks.”

  “Does that mean you’re out to celebrate?”

  “Just locked down another round of investments,” he lies.

  She returns a seductive smile. “Sounds like a reason to celebrate to me. Enjoy.” She winks at me before turning around.

  I tap my glass against Owen’s.

  “God dammit, why the hell does she like you so much?” he murmurs.

  I throwback my shot and shrug. “I don’t know, maybe it’s all the investments I’ve locked down.”

  “Fuck you.” He downs his shot and slams the empty glass on the bar. “I’m gonna go buy her a drink,” he says, using his pinkie to point. “What do ya think?”

  His target is a tall blonde standing in a group of four. She’s taller than her friends, but Owen’s a tall dude himself. An easy 6’5”.

  “Have at it,” I say with the taste of whiskey still warm on my tongue. He pushes into the crowd and right away a gust of exhaustion slaps me across the face. I didn’t realize how tired I still am after last week’s job. It’s not the robbery itself that’s exhausting, it’s the hours of planning and coordinating. Before and after.

  It’s nice to come out and celebrate a successful job, but at this point, the success itself is enough. It’s been about a year now. And it was never about the thrill to begin with.

  Owen glances my way and I shoot him a look that isn’t hard to interpret. His eyes snap away, pretending not to notice me.

  And that’s when I see her.

  She’s sitting at the other end of the bar with some bulky meathead looming at her side. He’s blabbering away, but not to her. Or if he is, she’s not listening. Her gaze is up and wandering aimlessly around the club.

  I watch her shift from person to person, her bright eyes catching the club lights in quick shimmers. She looks like she’s genuinely examining each member in the crowd, completely disengaged from the conversation in front of her.

  Not the type I’ve ever seen in a place like this.

  I’m filled with a sudden urge to meddle with their little group. She looks uncomfortable. That stout fuck isn’t going to eat her, but she looks worried that he might. In fact, everything about her seems beautifully out of place.

  It’s starting to surprise me that she hasn’t felt my stare when her eyes suddenly find mine. She looks away almost instantly. But I don’t.

  At this point there’s nothing capable of pulling my gaze away. I watch her sip anxiously from her glass. Her eyes dart between the oaf to her right and the women sitting beside her. Even the way she tries desperately to hide her nerves is attractive.

  No—she definitely doesn’t belong in here. And I know she can feel me staring.

  Come on, I murmur. And then, as if on command, our eyes meet again. The rest of the club blurs. It’s only the two of us. And without even thinking, I wink at her.

  Her lips bend into a smile that sends fire through my veins. But when I nod for her to come over, she looks away.

  I curse under my breath.

  She’s talking to her friend again. Now the meathead next to her is saying something too. Hell, if he persuades her to stay I swear I’ll go over and shove those hulk arms down his throat.

  But she stands up.

  She picks up her glass and chugs what’s remaining. I almost laugh but swallow it when she begins in my direction. Her wavy brown hair sways as she walks and she tucks a loose strand behind her ear. Even the way she navigates the crowd is elegant. Not pushy, not reserved, but graceful.

  As she nears I steal an open bar stool and set it to my side. She takes a seat and thanks me in a voice that’s exactly as pleasant as I imagined.

  “Of course.” I grin and thumb at the bar. “What are you drinking?”

  “That’s the same thing the other guy asked.”

  “Oh yeah?” I discard the first thought that comes to me in favor of something a little more polite. “Looks like he might be a little out of his league.”

  She narrows her eyes and smirks. “Is that so?”

  “Definitely. Looks like he does better with carbs than women.”

  She giggles at that. “And what about her?” she asks, pointing back at her friend. “Is she out of his league too?”

  “I’ll let them work it out.”

  She laughs. “That was my strategy too.”

  “Well, I’m glad you escaped then. Can I get us a round?” I ask.

  For a moment she only smiles back at me. Her skin has a caramel softness. “Let’s start with names, shall we?”

  “Yes, we shall.” I set my empty glass down and extend my hand extra formally. “I’m Noah.”

  “Sophia.” She returns a firm shake. “Thanks for saving me from that.” She gestures at her friend again.

  “Yeah, it was tough. You looked like you were really enjoying yourself.”

  Her laugh is more lively this time. “Well, do you still want to buy me a drink?”

  “Even more now, actually. But you’ve got to tell me what you’re drinking?”

  She twists her empty glass in her hands. “I believe it was called a Club Red Marg?” Her tone has a touch of humor that also flickers in her eyes. They look even more vibrant up close, a light blue with dark bursts near the centers.

  “You have beautiful eyes,” I murmur, which surprises her just as much as myself.

  “Thank you.” She smiles. It’s a timid smile, but it’s fucking adorable.

  “Sorry, it slipped.”

  “I’m sure.”

  I take the opportunity to signal one of the bartenders as she passes by. Not the same girl as before but she’s still quick with our drinks, returning with a margarita for Sophia and a Manhattan for myself.

  “Have you tried one of these before?” Sophia asks, raising her glass to take a sip.

  “God no.”

  She ends her sip to keep in a laugh.

  “I just don’t like the taste of burnt gasoline. That’s all.”

  The laugh escapes. “Well these are gasoline flavored with a hint of strawberry. You should try it.”

  “Not a chance.” I take a swig from my Manhattan. “But I’ll make you a deal?”

  She raises her eyebrows.

  “If you hang around for another drink, I’ll let you pick. Both of ours.”

  “Is that an official offer?” she asks.

  I hesitate to answer and she begins to smirk. “Fine. It’s an official offer but you’re in no position to accept it, so why don’t you worry about finishing that poison in your hand first.”

  “I don’t know, there’s always the risk that I start to feel less thirsty after a few more sips,” she says. Another smirk.

  Not only can she take a joke—she can fire back. And I love it.

  I give her a shrug while I take a drink. She’s clever, but she’s up against the king of dry sarcasm. And she’s goin
g to lose. “Here’s the thing though, either I buy you another drink or I walk away without ingesting that neon red toxic,” I say. “Either way, I win.”

  She takes a sip and peers at me. “So you’re indifferent about it, then?”

  “Oh, no. I have a preference.”

  She grins and taps her glass against mine in another cheers. We both tilt them back.

  “Then I accept the offer,” she says, setting down an empty glass.

  “All right, do your worst.” I signal Owen’s favorite bartender. Part of me is still hoping she’ll have a little mercy, but I’m wrong. Sophia orders two Club Red Margs.

  Chapter Five

  Sophia

  I can’t help but laugh as he takes a sip and winces like a young boy.

  “That was so worth it.”

  “God, I don’t think I’ve had tequila since I was high school,” he says.

  I take a drink instead of revealing that I maybe had a beer in high school, but definitely no liquor. That was college.

  Which makes me think of Nora.

  She’s still talking and standing beside James when I spot her again. She doesn’t feel me looking, but her expression says all I need to know. James hasn’t exactly made an impression.

  “What, you need to go rescue her?” Noah asks.

  “Is it that obvious?”

  He only peers back at me.

  “No, I’m staying right here,” I assure him. He chuckles. “But I’m curious, can you tell from her face?”

  He turns to glance subtly over his shoulder. Then shrugs. “I told you awhile ago I thought he was batting out of his league.”

  “That’s true, you did,” I say. “But I think I’ll let them work it out.”

  Noah laughs at my impersonation of him. He has a laugh full of energy and a smile that fits perfectly across his jawline and into his cheeks.

  “No, but really,” I say, “this is not the first time she’s continued accepting drinks while also wondering why the poor guy won’t leave her alone. I’m not bailing her out of this one.”