She Ain't The One. Carl Weber

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СКАЧАТЬ busted out laughing. Now I knew why she was so bad in bed—the girl had absolutely no rhythm whatsoever. Just watching her dance reminded me how bad the sex was; I was about to fade back into the crowd when she spotted me.

      There was no question that she was on me hard because, the second she saw me, she stopped what she was doing and headed toward me, grinning from ear to ear. I had to give her some credit, though. She may have been terrible in bed, but she sure was a pleasure to the eyes. I could see the jealousy in half the guys sitting at the bar as she approached me. If they knew what I knew, they wouldn’t have been jealous at all; they probably would have bought me a drink in sympathy—’cause every guy knows there’s nothing worse than a bad piece of ass.

      “What you drinking, handsome?” Monica leaned over the bar.

      I couldn’t tell if she wanted a kiss or just wanted me to see her cleavage. Whichever one it was, I wasn’t interested. “Hennessey,” I replied as I took a step back.

      She poured me a double and pointed to the VIP area. “I get off around two, so have a good time till then. Just remember who you’re going home with.”

      “How could I forget?” I gave her a weak smile and walked away from the bar. By the time she gets off from work, I’ll be long gone and hopefully with a new playmate.

      I walked around the club for a while and danced with a few women before heading to the VIP area. I even ran into the girl from the door, Nikki, and we made tentative plans to meet up at the door around quarter to two, to hit a diner after we left the club. That way, if I didn’t meet anybody more promising by then, I could get the hell out of the club with somebody to bed and not have to worry about Monica and her nonfucking ass.

      I roamed the club for a while and actually found Zanzibar to be nice. The VIP lounge was higher than the club and gave me a nice view of the dance floor and the bar, allowing me to keep tabs on Monica. I settled into a chair in the corner by a rail that separated the club from the VIPs, so I could see almost everything going on and no one could see me.

      One of my favorite things to do before I made a move on any women at a club was people-watch. Believe it or not, you could tell a lot about people just by watching them. Most of the brothers in the VIP were tall and big, so I suspected most of them were either football players with the Redskins or basketball players for the Wizards. Most of the women looked like video dancers or strippers, and all of them had GOLD DIGGER flashing across their heads, as far as I was concerned.

      All of them but one, that is, and she seemed to be in her own world. Except when one of those pushy athletes tried to buy her a drink or asked her to dance. I’d never seen so many brothers get shot down by the same woman in my entire life. It was actually pretty humorous, along with being pathetic.

      Whoever she was, she was one classy-looking female. She wasn’t flashy fine, but fine in a sophisticated kind of way, and because of that, she stuck out from the crowd. Her body was slim, and although she was sitting down, her strong arms and legs told me she was an athlete, a swimmer or maybe even an aerobics instructor.

      I watched her for a good thirty minutes, and to be honest, I wasn’t sure if she was white or black, she was so light. Truth is, whatever race she was really didn’t matter to me; what mattered was how I was going to get her to talk to me so I could take her home.

      My opening finally came about quarter to one, when a guy about my size, with a weird Charlie Brown–shaped head, approached her. I’d seen him ask her to dance a few times before, but I guess this time he wasn’t taking no for an answer because he actually grabbed her wrist.

      She tried to play it off, pulling her arm from his grasp, but I could tell she was scared. I stood up and walked over to where she was sitting. By the time I got there, Charlie Brown Head looked like he was going to slap her.

      “Ahhh, hell no! Didn’t I tell you not to talk to anyone?” I pointed my finger in the woman’s face, then pointed to where I was sitting. “You didn’t even see me sitting over there, did you? You just couldn’t resist making a fool out of me, could you? I can’t leave your ass alone for two seconds, can I?”

      She looked confused, like she was about to say something to tip off old boy.

      I raised my voice even louder to shut her up. “I told you about flirting with these motherfuckers. Wait till I get your ass home. That’s why I didn’t wanna come here in the first place.”

      I turned my attention to Charlie Brown, who was looking a little confused himself. I wasn’t sure if he wanted to fight or back off; I wasn’t about to give him a choice. It wasn’t like I was scared. Hell, I had a black belt in karate, but I never fought with or over women.

      “Do you know her? ’Cause if you don’t, let me introduce myself—I’m her husband, and we got three kids. So unless you’re her long-lost brother, I think you should find someone else’s marriage to ruin.” I stood my ground, and the brother took a step back.

      There was something about the word husband that always seemed to make a man reconsider his actions when it came to a pretty woman. Most brothers didn’t care if a woman had a husband, as long as he was not around to interfere, but the minute the old man showed up, all bets were off. Which obviously was the case with Charlie Brown. He didn’t say anything; he just stepped off and walked away.

      I stared at him until he was out of sight, then turned to the sister. And she was a sister, which I could tell now that I was closer to the nape of her neck and her full lips.

      “Sorry about the macho man routine, but you looked like you could use a little help. My name’s Jay. Jay Crawford.” I waited for her reply, and I knew I was in there when she started to grin.

      CHAPTER 2

      Ashlee

      I grinned to keep from crying, to keep from laughing, to keep from screaming hysterically in Jay’s face. I didn’t want this good-looking man to think I was crazy, but the reason I’d flown all the way from Dallas to D.C. and ended up at Zanzibar by myself was to escape my relationship blues. I could’ve easily gone down the street to the Channel Inn, but the concierge at my hotel said the crowd was too old. Or I could’ve walked a block down to H20, but there was a long line of what appeared to be college-aged students waiting to get in.

      My objective when I left Dallas was to go to a city where no one knew me. I needed to spend some time alone trying to figure out where things went wrong between me and my ex. I wasn’t looking for a new man; I was perfectly content grieving over my breakup with Darius, until Jay made me laugh. Maybe I could use Jay to forget about Darius, like Darius used his new fiancée to forget about me.

      The saying “always a bridesmaid, never a bride” for me was more like “always the ex, never the wife.” A bitter lump of jealously lodged in my throat as I imagined Darius and his bride-to-be, happy together.

      Girl, lighten up and live a little, I thought, avoiding eye contact with Jay. Darius is not the only man in the world for you and you’ve got two hundred pounds of chocolate proof standing right in front of you smiling…at you. Come on, forget about Darius, you deserve to be happy too.

      I was too choked up to say anything to Jay so I shifted my attention to his glorious body and frisked him with my eyes.

      Jay stood tall, not stiff. With confidence he planted his foot on the stainless steel rim at the bottom of the bar stool. A hint of arrogance accented the arch in his back as he leaned closer to me. His arrogance was attractive, but I could tell СКАЧАТЬ