"No, don't wait. Never mind." I slump back into the seat and meet the eyes of the Uber driver in her rear view mirror.

"Honey, whoever he is, if you're that conflicted, you need some breathing room for a night or two." She accelerates to the end of the driveway and stops. I turn to look through the back window at the SUV that's now parked in front of the building. The passenger door opens and he gets out. The back door opens, too, and what's that?

A blonde girl in a red tube top and red skirt. Griffin closes his door, she closes hers, and he touches her arm, leaning into her and saying something. I whirl back around, my throat thickening.

"Yeah. I do need some breathing room for tonight. Or for the rest of my life."

The tension in my neck eases the further we got from Griffin's condo. I'd been so close to embarrassing myself over and over tonight. What was I thinking? Going to his party, uninvited. Imagine if I'd called to him just as the woman was sliding her bare legs out of the SUV?

It's almost certainly his companion for the night. Because Griffin Davis isn't the kind of guy to "date" women. I feel like crying, I'm so frustrated and hurt. Of course I have no rational reason to be; I don't even know if he's with that woman. On the way to the suburbs, I try to push the thoughts of the blonde out of my mind. But I can't.

Back in Kendall, Allison's at her house, watching TV and opening a package of licorice when I walk in.

"I've never been so glad to see someone." I shut the door and lean against it dramatically. "Where's Lucas?" I wasn't sure I wanted to launch into the story of my night with him around.

Allison waves a strand of licorice in the air. "After we went out to dinner with his brother, he ended up going back to his family's house. Where the hell are your shoes?"

I walk over and snatch the licorice from Allison. "Left them at Griffin's."

One of her eyebrows lifts and she grins salaciously.

"No, not like that. Did you and Lucas have a fight?"

She shrugs and plucks a piece of candy out of the package. "Maybe a little. We haven't been getting along well. I think it's just the stress of the end of school, going away to college. All that."

"Ohh, Allie. I'm sorry." I curl up in a ball at the end of the sofa and take a bite of the licorice.

"Forget about my boring life. Tell me about Griffin's party. Is his place amazing? You look super hot." She sits cross-legged, facing me, leaning forward slightly as if she can't wait to hear what I have to say.

"It's pretty incredible. Like something out of a magazine."

I give her all the details of the night. She scrunches up her face, chews and swallows. Then picks some of the gummy licorice out of her back teeth with her finger. "Yeah, he's probably with the blonde."

A searing feeling of shame and envy burn in my chest. I've never been jealous like this.

"Joolz, you think he's into something shady, like drugs?"

"No. I don't know. I don't think so. Why would you think that?"

"Come on. The cars. The swank condo. The older friends with designer clothes. Import and export covers a lot of possibilities. Many of them not entirely legal."

"It doesn't matter what he does. I shouldn't chase a guy like that."

"Why do you like him so much, anyway? You've seen him twice since you were a kid."

"You're always so logical, you know that? I don't know. How do I explain it? Why do you like Lucas?"

"Because he's cute and reliable and he likes me." She shrugs.

"Well, Griffin's handsome." I notice Allison's wearing the sweatshirt of the college she'll be going to in the fall. When did she have such school spirit? "Being around him makes me feel alive. I guess that's it. And when we talked, it was like he was focused only on me. As if I was the only person in the world."

"He was probably mesmerized by your boobs. Forget about him. Maybe you can hook up with someone during the senior trip to forget about him."

I reach for the package of candy. "I'm not interested in the guys at school. I'll have to wait for college to have a boyfriend, probably. Sadly."

When Allison rolls her eyes, I laugh and change the subject, trying to forget about my dismal mood and the reality that I'll probably never see Griffin again. He's probably at his party right now with his arm around that blonde. Kissing her temple. Drawing her close to his broad chest. Putting those big hands of his around her waist.

Just thinking about how he touched me when we danced makes me dizzy. If I dwell on it too much I'll start to cry. With a tight chest and a lump in my throat, I stand.

"I'm going to change and wash. Let's see what's on Netflix, 'kay?"

"I think this is the last party I'll have for a while."

I'm lying on my sofa, nursing a slight hangover. My sister's on the other sofa, reading a book.

She looks up. "Why? It went well. The Amsterdam contingent was happy."

Sighing, I massage my temple with my thumb, hoping to press the headache away. What I need is water, but I don't feel like getting up. "So happy that one of them is still sleeping out on the deck."

"Oh. Paul? He's not sleeping. He's sunbathing. In his Speedo." Zoe cackles.

"Pass the brain bleach. Will you get me a glass of water? Please? I can't move."

She responds by throwing a white pillow at my head. I slap it away.

"No fucking way. It's your fault for indulging too much last night, Griffin."

"I must be getting old because I didn't indulge like I normally do. I barely drank." Has she forgotten that I don't do drugs? I might sell them, but I don't do them. Don't get high on your own supply, and all that.

"And you fought off those models with the grace of a kung Fu master. What's with you, anyway? You don't seem like yourself."

I groan and rise. At every other party I've given, I've ended up in bed with a woman. Or two. Not last night, though. "Nothing. Just tired."

I go into the kitchen and pour myself a huge glass of water, gulp it down, then pour another.

"When's the housekeeper coming?" Even though the party wasn't crazy like in past years, the living room's littered with plates, glasses, empty champagne bottles and...what's that in the corner, near the hall?

"Are those shoes? Your shoes?" Zoe's even more of a neat freak than I am.

Resting her book on her stomach, she closes her eyes. "Nope, they're Juliette's."

I freeze, holding the glass in the air. "Juliette who?"

"Juliette Phillips. She was here last night."

I set the glass down and rake a hand through my hair. "What? When?"

"Before you got here. She left at some point." Zoe opens her eyes and reaches for a gray fuzzy throw blanket and arranges it over her body.

I walk to the sofa and sit. "Why didn't you tell me?"

Zoe yawns. "Slipped my mind. I was busy making sure the Amsterdam guys had everything they needed. They seemed pretty happy with the product we got from China, so I think this is a done deal. They keep wanting to trade their hash for our molly, and I know they've got great shit there, but I said we don't want to get involved with that. We'd rather sell outright. Our specialty is club drugs. Like Starbucks' specialty is good coffee. Or have you changed your mind?"

"You're fucking with me, right? I'm not interested in discussing drug shipments right now. Did you talk to Juliette? Who did she come with? Why did she leave before I got back?"

She rolls her eyes. "Why don't you just admit you want her? Why all the questions? Jesus."

"Answer me.."

"Apparently Victoria invited her. Because Victoria's a little conniving viper who thought you'd get angry if you saw Juliette here. So Juliette went into your bathroom, took off her shoes, had a little cry and then left. Well, in fairness, she left after our chat."

"What did you talk about? Why was she in my bathroom? Who the fuck made her cry?"

"Dunno. Not me."

I throw up my hands and lean back. "I don't even know where to begin with this. What did you say to her?"

"I asked about her brother. She wouldn't tell me why she was crying. She wasn't full on wailing, I could just tell by the way she sniffled. She seems a little stubborn, just like Ashton. She kept looking at me suspiciously while I was smoking."

I groan. "You were fucking smoking in my bathroom? You know I hate that."

"People snort a thousand lines of coke in your bathroom and I have one little cigarette and you freak out." She smirks. "I told Juliette that you aren't good for her." Zoe's just tossing these bombs out casually, and my blood pressure's going up. I can feel it.

"You what? Why?" I press the heels of my hands into my eyes. Hell, my head is splitting open.

"Because it's true. She's a sweet, wholesome girl from the suburbs who's probably going to college and majoring in education so she can be a kindergarten teacher—"

"Pharmacist. She wants to be a pharmacist."

Zoe laughs. "The irony."

"Hilarious."

"She's what, seventeen? Eighteen? It's obvious she has a huge-ass crush on you and it's also obvious she has no idea who you are or what you do. How do you explain your life to a girl like that?"

"Good question," I mutter.

"Or do you just want to fuck her?"

"I can't believe my little sister just asked me that question. Christ."

My sister's voice softens when she says my name a few times. "If we were normal people, I'd say she was perfect for you. She's gorgeous and she seems smart and kind and polite. She radiates sweetness and light and rainbow pooping unicorns. In a parallel universe, you two would bone and fall in love and have beautiful babies. In our world..." she raises her eyebrows and waves her hand in the air.

I'm staring up at the high ceiling, my heart pounding.

"Let's take stock," Zoe says. She always does this, rehashes everything when she wants to end a conversation.

"Let's not."

"Last year you sold close to seven million dollars worth of drugs. You have a network of dealers throughout Miami. You import kilo upon kilo of raw pharmaceuticals from China, all for the tens of thousands of tourists, partiers and others who come here and want a hit of hallucinogenic happy pills."

I groan. "We are trying to invest that money into legitimate businesses. Some of the city's richest people got their start this way. Half of downtown was built with dirty money."

"Whatever. Juliette's about to take final exams. In high school, for fuck's sake. Come on, Griffin. Think this through."

I can't help but think about her, here in my house. Walking around. Through my bedroom. The very idea is both infuriating and adorably exciting. Infuriating because I didn't ever want her to see what kind of people I know. Or what kind of person I am. She's too young for that shit.

Exciting because it means that she's interested in me. I blow out a breath. What is it about this girl that makes something in me soft and caring? I'm never soft or caring.

Fuck. I can't even call her because I don't have her number. I do know where she works, though...

My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of the terrace door banging open. It's Paul from Amsterdam. Thankfully he's in his regular clothes and not a European bathing suit.

"Good morning. Or should I say good afternoon. Smashing party you had last night, and thanks for letting me crash outside. Got a little tan. I'm planning on heading back to my hotel now for a proper sleep."

I stand up and extend my hand. "Glad you enjoyed yourself. So our deal's on, right? The price right for you? You have the samples?"

"It's perfect. I'll be in touch with an address. No, the others took the samples when they left last night." We shake, and I follow him to the elevator.

"Oh, Griff, by the way. I meant to ask but I was so blotto from all the champagne and whatnot. I met a beautiful girl last night."

I grin. "Just one?"

He chuckles. "This one was different. Very young, just how I like them. Probably not even in college."

I jam my hands into the pockets of my jeans as a frisson of rage pools in my core. "Oh yeah?"

"Long, dark hair. Luscious body. Big tits. Natural tits."

I know who he's talking about, and it's taking all of my willpower not to smash his head into the wall about ten times. I punch the elevator button twice with my thumb, each time with a little too much force. "Not sure who you're talking about."

"Her name's Juliette. One of Veronica's friends. Do you know how I can get in touch with her? She said that the two of you are just friends, so I was thinking..."

My hand forms a fist, and I force myself to relax. Don't fuck him up. You need him. You agreed to do a multimillion dollar deal. Your biggest yet. Don't punch him in the mouth.

"Oh. Yeah. Her."

"I was hoping to get to know her better, but she vanished. I'd love to fuck a little girl like that before I—"

The opening of the elevator doors are the only thing keeping me from murdering him. "Sorry, can't help you, bro. Have a good trip home."

He grins as he steps inside and I feel like puking.

The doors have barely closed when I'm dialing Victoria on my cell.

"Hey Griffy."

"What the fuck, Vee? You brought Juliette here? Why? And you let her around Paul?" I'm practically yelling. But I don't care. Zoe's the only one here.

Paul, the biggest fucking hash dealer in all of northern Europe.

"Oh, don't worry about it. We just drank champagne, the three of us. Well, he did invite us to Ibiza in July. He was super interested in Juliette. Did you give him her number?"

"No. And I'll be really pissed if you give him her number. Or if you plot and scheme to do anything with her, ever again. Stay the fuck away from her, Vee."

I hang up and stomp over to the shoes and scoop one up. It looks so little in my hands, and it's a no-name brand from Wal-Mart or Target or some discount store. I notice a smear of black on my hand. I rub the tip of the pointy shoe and a scuff emerges.

She's buffed the cheap shoes with shoe polish to make them look new.

I stand, a heaviness taking over my body.

"Hey, Zoe? Are you sleeping?"

"Trying."

"Do you think that shoe store you like is open today?"

"Which one? I like a lot of them."

I walk over, cradling Juliette's shoe in my hand. Zoe's cocooned in the blanket with her eyes shut.

"The one where I bought you the two-thousand dollar boots a couple of years ago for your twenty-first birthday."

"Oh, Jimmy Choo? Yeah, they're probably open at the good mall in Bal Harbour. Why? You buying me new kicks?" She snaps her eyelids open and focuses on the black high heel balancing on my hand.

"No, they're for someone else."

She fixes a steady gaze on me. "I guess we're going shoe shopping today. For the record, Prince Charming, I don't like this at all."

____