Master of his heart (Brielle and Max)

Aubree sensed something off–kilter with her emotions. “Bri, it’s been ages since we hit up a bar. How about we swing by Tequila Sunset tonight?”

She couldn’t keep feeling nauseous at the mere sight of men. She needed to snap out of it, pronto. And where better to find a crowd of men than at Tequila Sunset?

Brielle was taken aback. She remembered Ricardo’s words – Aubree couldn’t stand being around men right now, except for Ricardo, that is.

Brielle, still nursing a hangover from last night, knew she couldn’t indulge in drinks again so soon. But accompanying Aubree for a night out, just to sit and chat, that she could do. “Bri, Mr. Lynch will be there too.”

Dustin was in town?

Remembering the research institute being mentioned in the news, Brielle wasn’t surprised. Dustin was always on the move, flitting from one place to another.

After hanging up, Brielle thought to notify Max. As someone still reeling from last night’s binge, the last thing she needed was Max getting wind of her bar plans–he’d be livid.

However, the scene she witnessed the previous night weighed on her, and the words exchanged still felt murky in her mind. Was Max the kind of guy to pull a bait–and–switch with a stand–in? Would he have given her that rosary if he was truly smitten with Annie?

There had to be pieces of the puzzle she was missing.

Brielle hurried through her work at Stellar Stage Entertainment and headed home, intent on digging out the rosary. She wasn’t sure what to say by way of apology. Their last misunderstanding had her seeking him out, rosary in tow. Maybe wearing it now would help cool his temper. Perhaps she should wear it constantly from here on out.

But after turning her room inside out, the rosary was nowhere to be found. She was certain she’d left it at home. How could it just vanish?

Her face clouded over as she dialed the property management’s number to request a review of the surveillance footage. Without knowing the exact date it went missing, the property management was less than helpful. “Ms. Brielle, maybe you should just report it to the police or, better yet, install a camera in your place from now on.”

Without a timeframe, the task was too daunting, and it was not within the scope of their

services.

Deflated, Brielle mulled over the significance of the missing rosary. What would she say if Max suddenly asked her to wear it one day?

She considered the miscommunication from last night and this morning’s slap. Now the rosary was also missing–how would she mend these rifts?

She rubbed her temples and glanced at the clock. Time was ticking, so she rushed off to Tequila Sunset.

As she was about to get out of the car, she spotted a familiar vehicle in the distance–Max’s. Max, accompanied by Patrick and Annie, was shaking hands with a man in his forties. They acknowledged each other with a nod and proceeded inside.

Brielle sat dazed in the car for a few minutes before her window was rapped on. “Bri,

what’s got you spaced out?” ConTEent bel0ngs to Nôv(e)lD/rama(.)Org .

It was Dustin’s voice. He was fresh from some formal event and opened the car door. “Did you hear me?”

Brielle caught the metallic scent of blood. Was Dustin injured? But in his formal attire, it seemed he had just come from a social function.

“Mr. Lynch, are you hurt?”

Dustin grunted, and a sheen of sweat glistened on his forehead. “It’s nothing. Just a scratch.”

The look on his face told Brielle it was anything but minor. And yet, here he was at the bar. “I’ll take you to the hospital.”

“Aubree is waiting inside. I saw some pretty boy with her–is she switching things up?”

Brielle didn’t want to delve into Aubree’s troubles, but Dustin added, “That pretty boy looks familiar. Can’t place where I’ve seen him before.”

“Ricardo’s done a lot of odd jobs before and has a memorable face. You’ve probably crossed paths.”

Dustin leaned back, trying to steady his breathing. “Let’s

go

inside.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Dustin was stubborn, so Brielle didn’t press further.

Inside Aubree’s private booth, several young, attractive lads were lounging about. Brielle’s steps faltered as she saw Aubree reach out to touch one of the boys‘ shoulders.

A vein on Brielle’s forehead throbbed. “Aubree? What are you doing?”

Ricardo looked up, deadpan. “Desensitization test.”

Clear enough, Aubree wasn’t quite there yet. Only Ricardo’s presence was tolerable.

Dustin settled on the opposite couch, eyeing the pretty boys with a squint, his gaze finally

resting on Ricardo. Was it really just a case of déjà vu from a public sighting?

Feeling Dustin’s scrutiny, Ricardo just sat there innocently, like a newcomer to the scene.

Aubree’s expression soured as she withdrew her hand, thewhelming urge to hurl receding. She gestured for the male companions to leave. But one, not ready to give up, brushed her hand, evidently hopeful to stick around.