Cadence tilted her head sideways and nodded.
“I’ll think about it. I still believe I need to take a break.”
“Fine! Take a short one,” Cadence offered. “And then get back out there and keep on living just like you told me to do.”
“If I do get back out there, I’m going to keep my feelings at bay. If this next frog doesn’t deserve my love, I’m keeping it on lockdown. Also—” Alana held her finger up as if she’d just received an epiphany “—I won’t give him any of the good fruit! Not unless he proves himself worthy. This way, great sex won’t cloud my judgment. James was great in bed...” Alana closed her eyes and moaned.
“Uh...” Cadence interrupted Alana’s apparent moment. “I’m still standing here!”
Alana blushed and laughed hard. Cadence joined her and they could hardly stop themselves.
“See what I mean? Good sex will warp the mind, girl.” She chuckled some more. “And lastly, I need to steer clear of known players. I think I’m intrigued by the idea of snagging a player. James was a player at first, and I’m willing to bet that other women had something to do with the fact that he went missing without an explanation.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
“Yep, that’s it! I’ll take some time for me and get back into the game. No falling too hard too fast, no sex and no players. That should save me some heartbreak. No man will ever be able to say that I’ve smothered him again.”
“Good! Now, how do you feel?”
“I still feel horrible.” Alana frowned. “I’ll get over him—eventually. We actually had fun together.” Alana looked at the clock on her desk that was a gift from a client. “We’ve got work to do. These clients can’t represent themselves.”
“You’re right.” Cadence lifted herself from Alana’s desk and headed for the door. Just as she was about to walk through, she turned back toward Alana. “Oh, are you going to be free this Saturday?”
“I guess.” Alana shrugged.
“Great! Then you can come by. Blake told me this morning that Drew will be in town this weekend and he and Hunter are thinking about having a get-together for Drew’s birthday. Shall I count you in?”
Alana forced a smile as Cadence departed but didn’t answer. The last thing she needed after this unofficial breakup with James was to be in the same room as the most flirtatious Barrington ever. Drew was an international player. Alana had witnessed his techniques up close for years. She had even entertained his advances and dated him for a short stint, which didn’t end well. They made better friends. Admittedly, she enjoyed his flirting, but it was time for a change. Alana was done kissing frogs—especially gorgeous ones who were allergic to commitment and so skilled in bed that they could render her deaf and dumb.
Alana was also tired of heartbreak. Right there in her office, she made a personal vow to be more protective of her own heart. She wasn’t breaking her rules for any man—especially not Drew Barrington.
“Hey, Ma!” Drew yelled as he strolled through the first floor of his parents’ spacious home on Long Island’s Gold Coast. “Ma, I’m home! Pop, where are you?”
“Drew, is that you?” Joyce came down the stairs as fast as her middle-aged legs could carry her. “Happy birthday, baby boy!”
“Thanks, Ma!” Drew wrapped his arms around his mother, lifted her off her feet and swung her around. He planted a big kiss on her forehead. “Where’s Pop?”
“I’m right here, boy!” Floyd carefully made his way down the winding staircase, taking one cautious step at a time.
“What happened to you, Pop?”
“Pulled another muscle at the gym trying to keep up with the young boys,” Joyce said.
When Floyd reached the landing, he gave Drew a bright smile and shook his hand and then pulled him in for a hug. “Happy birthday, son! Are you staying for a while this time?”
“A few weeks. I’m heading back to Europe in February to train for the first race of the season in March.”
“Oh, good. I can see more of my baby. I wish I knew you were coming. I would have had something here for you. I sent you a card. Did you get it?”
Drew nodded as Joyce headed toward the kitchen.
“Let’s have a nice breakfast. I just bought some sage sausages. I know how much you love them,” she said.
“Oh yes!” Floyd clapped his hands together and rubbed them greedily.
“Just one for you, Floyd,” she warned, pointing her finger at him. “You need to watch that blood pressure of yours. It’s been running high lately.” She directed her last sentence to Drew.
“How are you feeling, Dad?”
Floyd waved away their concern. “I’m just fine. I could still lay you out if I needed to.” Floyd put up his fists, bobbed and then weaved.
Drew looked at his mother with his brows raised and laughed. “Don’t worry, old man. I won’t put you to the test.”
“Stop teasing your father, boy. Let him think he’s still got it.” She winked at Floyd. “Well, actually he does,” she said, sauntering toward the counter.
Drew scrunched his nose. “That’s too much information.” They all laughed. “Ma—” Drew walked over to where his mother stood and placed his hand on her shoulder “—you always cook for me when I come. This time, I’d like to treat you and Dad to breakfast. Let’s go. I’ll drive.”
“No!” Floyd and Joyce said at the same time.
“I’ll drive,” Floyd offered.
“Yes. Let’s take your dad’s truck. My heart would be in my throat by the time we got to the restaurant if you drove. I wouldn’t be able to swallow my food.” Joyce went toward the foyer. Floyd was on her heels.
Drew scrunched his face again. “I don’t drive that fast.” Both Joyce and Floyd stopped walking to look at Drew. “What?” Drew asked incredulously.
Joyce peered at him over the rim of her glasses. “We won’t talk about that, sweetheart. Let’s go have a nice breakfast. I’m glad you’re here—in one piece!” The two of them snickered and Drew shook his head, chuckling at his parents.
He’d always had a penchant for speed, which is why he chose the life of a professional motorcycle racer over becoming an attorney.
The sanitation crew had plowed a narrow path down his parents’ winding block, but once they made it to the main streets, the roads were clear. Within ten short minutes, they had reached one of his father’s favorite restaurants for breakfast. Even at the early hour, the place was packed. Once they were served, conversation continued to flow without interruption.
“I’m thinking about buying a place in Manhattan.”
“Save your money and take the guesthouse. No one has used it in years.”
“Thanks, Ma, but I prefer the city and I need my own space.”
“Yeah?” Floyd said, taking in a forkful of pancakes. “What about your house in Brooklyn?”
“The dude I’m renting from wants to sell the place this year and even though I’m hardly there, he asked if I was interested in buying it. I’d rather buy in Manhattan. I plan to look at a few places while I’m here.”
“Will you spend more