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Chapter 5
“Come on. One dance.” The blonde, who’d introduced herself as Portia, shouted to be heard over the music as she lifted on her toes and rested her hand on Ace’s chest under the guise of balance. Her mouth was only a couple of inches from his ear, but it was still difficult to hear her over the music pumping from the speakers. “Please.”
Chase Malone had already done a set downstairs in the restaurant during a cocktail hour. Now everyone had moved upstairs to the bar where Chase would be playing again shortly with his “surprise” guest Virginia Valentine. Until then, they had a DJ that had kept the dance floor packed. Everyone seemed to be having a great time and the response to the renovations they’d done were overwhelmingly positive.
“Sorry, darlin’. I’m afraid I’ve got two left feet.” Ace tried a different tactic since flat out saying no and making up an excuse about his back hurting didn’t seem to be doing the trick. If nothing else, he had to admire her persistence.
“Oh, that’s okay.” Portia purred. “I don’t mind.”
It was crazy to Ace that there was any point in his life that he would’ve actually gone home with this woman. In fact, in the past, he had gone home with “this woman”—or at least different versions of her—on more than one occasion before he and Kendall got together.
He wasn’t sure if his change in tune was because he was getting older or if the emotional switch was due to the epic fail of his last relationship. But what he was sure about was that the soundtrack of his life no longer included Bob Seger’s one night stand ballad “We’ve Got Tonight.” He didn’t want wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am and he also didn’t want to walk down the aisle…basically he didn’t want anything.
His neighbor’s big brown eyes, full lips and golden red hair appeared in his mind’s eye.
Well, maybe I want one thing.
Over the past few weeks, Stephanie Holland had been a recurring theme in his dreams, both day and night. And as much as he tried to tune her out, he couldn’t. There was something about her that he couldn’t put his finger on, but he wanted to. He wanted to put a lot more than his finger on her.
“One dance.” The blonde pouted, leaning in closer to him as she raked her nails down his chest.
“Actually, I need to go check on somethin’.” Ace motioned across the room at nothing in particular. “You enjoy yourself.”
Her protests continued as he moved away from her walking with purposeful strides, but he ignored them. He needed a break. Tonight had been like a meat market and he was prime rib. He couldn’t take a step without being propositioned by a woman. It wasn’t lost on him that to most healthy, red-blooded, single men that wouldn’t seem like a problem. But to him, it was starting to feel like torture.
At first, he’d chalked up the attention to the fact that he was the new guy in town. But after overhearing several conversations about “auditions” and “callbacks” he was thinking there must be some kind of reality show that these women were trying to compete in. It was the only thing that made sense.
Before disappearing into the back he peered over the sea of people for his hundredth scan of the night. He was looking for a certain redhead that he’d been unable to stop thinking about lately, but he was coming to terms with the fact that she was most likely going to be a no-show. It was pretty ironic that the one girl he wanted to attract he couldn’t and to the rest he was irresistible. All day he’d been looking forward to seeing her. Not once had he considered that she would stand him up, if you could even call it that. He hadn’t exactly asked her out. Now he was regretting that misstep.
When his visual search came up empty, he pushed through the side door marked “Employees Only” and let out a sigh. The hallway that he entered led to a storage room and two offices, all three of which should be empty since everyone was out enjoying the party, which thankfully was a huge success. He figured it would be a good place to get his head on straight and try to live up to his hosting duties.
Andrew Charles Elliot, IV had been groomed from a very early age to play his role. As the namesake and son of Andrew Charles Elliot III he knew how to work a room, he just hated doing it. His parents had come into money before he was born when his dad made some wise investments and they had worked their way into high society. They considered themselves royalty in Savannah. While his brother ate up the role of prince, Ace was never as comfortable with the parties and lifestyle. He’d always been more comfortable in smaller settings, hanging out with a core group of real friends, as opposed to galas filled with people he only knew superficially and that would stab each other in the back in a heartbeat if it served them.
Thankfully tonight there hadn’t been too much pressure on him since this wasn’t new for his business partners. Riley and Dax co-owned a bar in New Orleans, so this wasn’t their first rodeo. It also didn’t hurt that this was Riley’s hometown, so he knew everyone here and Dax naturally gravitated towards the center of attention. That man never met a spotlight he didn’t love. It made it easy to be the silent partner.
Ace shut the door behind him and the hallway grew immediately dim. The only light source coming from the gap beneath the door. The music was still audible, but it was muted. This was probably the most private and quiet space he would be able to find. Leaning back against the exposed brick wall he let his shoulders drop.
“Are you hiding, too?” A female voice sounded from the end of the hallway.
Ace squinted his eyes as they adjusted to the darkness and saw a young woman sitting on the floor at the end of the hall. He couldn’t really make out her face, but the light hair that surrounded it was visible, even in the darkness.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
Her voice hadn’t sounded distressed, but if there wasn’t something wrong why would she be huddled in the corner of a dark hallway, and from her own admission, hiding.
“Yeah, everything’s fine.” She stood and walked towards Ace. When she got within a couple of feet of him, he was able to make out her facial features and he immediately recognized her.
It was Virginia Valentine. Country superstar. Except she didn’t look like the girl he’d seen in music videos or on the covers of magazines that had dubbed her the “Nashville It Girl.” The young woman standing in front of him looked like the girl next door. Fresh, sweet, even innocent.
She reached out her hand. “Hi, I’m Ginny.”
“Ace. Nice to meet you.” He shook her hand.
Her smile grew. “Love the accent. Georgia, right?”
“Yes, ma’am. Savannah, born and raised.”
“I just visited Smyrna.”
