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He’d seen what happened to his friends who got involved in serious relationships and it never ended well. Besides, he enjoyed his freedom way too much. The last thing he wanted was some woman nagging him about every last damn thing he did.No, thank you. Relationships are for suckers,he thought.
Although Dylan seemed damn happy with Hollis, he reminded himself. Actually, that was an understatement. He was over-the-moon in love with the woman. And, even though Chase liked Hollis a lot, he didn’t understand how Dylan could be so smitten with a woman. The way he looked at her-- pure reverence and absolute adoration in his dark gaze. And, they were always touching each other and sharing looks full of secrets only they knew.
It was kind of annoying.
But, if he wanted to spend time with his brother, he had come to accept that it was pretty much a package deal. One girlfriend included. Not much he could do about it.
There had to be a way for him to make some quick money, he thought. Enough to get him through the next few months and decide whether or not to close the garage. Chase wondered if there was a game this weekend. Not that he had been invited to one in ages, but if he could find out where it was, it could solve all of his financial problems. Temporarily, at least.
Even though it was 2am, Chase reached for his phone and texted Bishop Lennox, his old poker pal. They used to go to all the hush-hush underground games together. But, after Chase stopped racing, his disposable income had dried up pretty quickly for games like that.
Not surprising, Bishop texted right back. The guy was like a vampire, a creature of the night with his finger on the pulse of New Orleans. He never slept and he knew where to drink, where to gamble and where the best spots were to pick up women. A consummate bachelor, he seemed to have connections with everyone and could get his hands on anything.
He also had an unlimited source of money and Chase never did figure out where it came from since Bishop didn’t work.
Chase opened the text:There’s a game Saturday night. Let’s go. It’s been awhile...
He knew he could count on Bishop. Only problem was he had five grand and the minimum buy-in could be that or more. Hopefully, they would extend him some credit or things would get humiliating fast.
That Saturday, Bishop texted Chase with the game’s location and Chase invited him to Dylan’s club for drinks beforehand. The game didn’t start until 8pm and they usually ran all night.
By 5pm, Chase was at Lucky 13, up with the band and playing the drums, lost in the rhythm. When he played, it was the one time he could forget everything else-- his problems just seemed to disappear when the music took over. It was hard to explain exactly, but nothing compared to those moments when he became completely consumed by the jazz.
When Everly and Tessa walked into the Lucky 13 jazz club, it was packed. “Maybe we should go somewhere else,” Everly said, squeezing past a group of people.
“No, c’mon,” Tessa whined and grabbed her arm, dragging her toward the bar. “I’ve been wanting to check this place out for months. It must be good since it’s so busy.”
“I guess,” Everly said, eyes scanning the place. The decor was simple and the atmosphere laidback. And, the jazz had the walls shaking. As they waited a few minutes at the bar to place their drink orders, Everly turned, leaned against the bar, and checked out the band.
They were shredding it and Everly had always appreciated jazz since she was born and bred in Nola. Her gaze moved over the players and suddenly jerked back to the drummer.
Good. God.
He was probably the most attractive man she had ever seen. With dark hair, longer on top and perfectly-mussed, high cheekbones and dark scruff on his lower face, he caught and held her attention like no one ever had before.
As he kept beat with the sticks, he seemed lost in the music. It’s like nothing else existed and when they began to improv and it was his turn, Everly stood up straighter and paid close attention.
The music flowed down his long arms and he played effortlessly.
“Ev?”
“Huh?” Everly snapped her attention away and looked over at her best friend who handed her drink over. “Oh, thanks.” As she took a sip of the Sazerac cocktail, a combination of whiskey, absinthe, Peychaud’s Bitters and sugar, her gaze moved back over to the stage.
The song was ending and the last notes were consumed in cheers, whistles and applause. Everly found herself clapping, eyes glued to the drummer. It looked like the band was going to take a break and music piped in over the speakers.
He stood up, stretched and, wow, he looked tall. Maybe 6’3,’’ Everly guessed. Then, he headed down the steps and straight to the bar. Her heart kicked up as he seemed to head straight for her, all lanky, long limbs. But, then he veered to the end of the bar where a man and a red-haired woman sat. The man handed him a whiskey and they chatted for a minute.
Suddenly, he looked up, gaze locking in on Everly.
Oh, God, how embarrassing.He caught her staring at him, practically drooling. Everly looked away fast and took a long sip of her drink. He had to be used to women staring at him. After all, he looked like a model.
Chase sipped his whiskey, coming down from the high of playing the last hour, gaze on the gorgeous brunette. She was really something. It had been awhile since a woman had made him sit up and take notice.
Damn, if he didn’t have the poker game and Bishop coming to meet him in a few, he’d go hit on her. Spending the evening seducing her sounded much more appealing than losing his last five grand.
You’re going to win. You have to,he told himself.
“Chase?”
