"Cuban," the short, broad-shouldered man said, cutting off the tip of the dark brown stick in his hands.

With the arms deal done, he was actually good to go.

But there were two things in life he rarely said no to — a good Cuban cigar being one of them, a glass of good scotch the other.

And tonight, it was a set of both. Accompanied by the two black-clad, hourglass-shaped blondes — but that he wasn't in the mood for tonight.

"But I gotta say, Al — you always know how to talk me into staying longer," he said to the man, taking a sip from the freshly filled glass in his hand.

"I don't understand why you're leaving tonight in the first place. What's the rush?"

He glanced around the murky, familiar, mahogany interior; Al always chose the same suite. "Got some things to tend to."

The man raised his brow, half-grin on his face. "Things?"

"Sorry to break it to you, Al, but you're not the only person I do business with."

"You do know how to break my heart."

"Cheers to that." He raised his glass.

"It's funny, you know?" The man grinned some more. "You never called business "things to tend to."

"You're not gonna drop it, are you?"

"Oh, hell no," the man laughed. "I'm curious, what is it that makes you not in the mood for the two pieces of walking work of art you just sent packing? You barely even looked at them."

It wasn't exactly true. He did ogle the blondes head to toe, slow and hard — wondering why not a single fibre in him reacted the way it usually would have. He didn't dismiss them because he refused himself. He dismissed them because they stirred absolutely nothing in him. Which made him no less puzzled than Al was.

"You never say no to the girls I pick." The man took a hit of the cigar.

"It's like with everything else in life — you get bored eventually."

"So, who is she?"

"What?"

"The reason you're not in the mood for what you're always in the mood for."

He pressed his mouth into a line, his brows arching. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh, stop shitting me, you've got it written all over your face…" The man snickered. "She must really be something, though. To make someone like you pussy-blind — she must be — fucking unreal."

He brought the cigar to his mouth, the sudden urge to see her gripping at his gut, the perspective of the 10-hour flight ahead of him weighing his chest down. He reached for his phone. No messages. Did she even have this number? He'd saved hers, but didn't remember her saving his.

"She must suck that dick real good, huh? You know, Heidi will be heartbroken when I tell her," the man added with slight amusement. "She was always hoping she'd get you hooked, eventually."

"No offense, but — it takes more than a deep throat to achieve that."

"I'm not sure I like you talking about my sister like that."

He took a hit of his cigar, taking his time to blow out the smoke. "Trust me, if you saw my dick, you'd know it was a compliment."

The man shook his head with a chuckle and a sigh. "You know, Ken — you do realize anyone else in your place would have a gun to his head by now, right?"

"That's exactly what I like about you, Al," he mused, lazily reaching for the piece sitting in the inner pocket of his jacket, pulling it out, stroking along the muzzle with his index finger, amused by the nervous smile spreading across the man's face. "You're just like me… you don't let anyone disrespect a woman you care about."

"I didn't mean no disrespect, you know that," the man said, a little quiver to his voice.

"I do. A slip of the tongue. It happens." He toyed with the gun some more, before putting it back in. "Oh, I meant to show you," he said, pulling it back out, "my new baby, got it custom made." He ran his finger along the golden engravement adorning the length of the muzzle.

"I noticed. Very you."

"Still a virgin. Didn't splash no brains, yet."

"Will sure look good in action."

"It sure will." He furrowed his brow and slid the piece back inside the jacket, and took a glance at his phone. "Well, it was cool to catch up, Al, but my car's waiting."

"Likewise. And I hope to meet your lady one day."

"You'll bow and kiss her hand when you do."

"I would do no less." The man chuckled, leaning back into his chair, his mouth twitching in a grin as he blew out a cloud of dense, grey smoke. "Well, I'm not keeping you away, then."

He kept staring blankly at the cigar in his hand. "You wouldn't make it if you tried."

#

The rooftop wasn't as crowded as he would expect, considering how warm the night was, but it was far from empty.

Upon spotting him, the two black-clad security guards approached instantly, but he waved his hand to dismiss them. If he was here for a business meeting, he would've motioned for them to clear the area; but there was no need for that now. He just came here for a smoke.

He smirked, seeing that Alan's two walking blonde works of art seemed to have found their company for the night, both seated in the lap of a guy who was roughly half their hight; it would sure look hilarious if they all stood up.

Turning left, he walked past the pool and into the surprisingly empty, green area with gazeboes, tables and chairs, the furniture hardly visible in the forest of potted palm trees — and right now, even that made him think of her and feel like shit, more with every next minute he stood here smoking instead of being on the plane already.

He took out his phone and stared at the screen for a moment, the letter X on it, before tapping the green receiver and pressing the phone to his ear. "The number you're trying to reach is currently unavailable." He cursed under his breath.

Well, it wasn't like she carried the phone on her when at home. Maybe her battery died and she didn't notice.

But not for the whole day and night, for fuck's sake.

He wasn't even mad anymore, he just — fuck, he just needed to know she was okay, godsdammit.

"The number you're trying to reach is currently unavailable."

He clutched the phone in his hand, squishing the half-smoked cigarette in the glass ashtray on the nearest table.

The talk with Alexis went well — well, mostly because, contrary to what he expected, it turned out to be a meeting of solely business nature. It felt off she never even mentioned Xena, not once, nothing, not a single sarcastic reference to the last time they'd seen each other. And he was happy to leave it that way, for the time being. He should keep Alexis' focus solely on himself. She seemed to have a soft spot for him, he should work towards strengthening that effect.

He unlocked the phone, about to try calling again, but didn't, just dumbly stared at the screen.

"This better be my number you're about to call," a playful, female voice reached him from the side, making him turn around.

He lifted his gaze, meeting the familiar set of dark brown eyes surrounded by a mess of what he remembered to be brown hair, which was now brutally, unnaturally crimson. "You make a good redhead."

"Hoped you would like it."

He slid the phone back in his pocket as the woman stepped towards him. Well, what the hell, he could as well have another one, he thought and fished for his cigarettes, offering one to her. The brown eyes burned into his as he lit it for her. "I do like it," he said, watching her exhale a huge cloud of smoke.

"Do you, really?" she asked in a sultry whisper. "I think you'd be inside me by now if you did."

He held her gaze, confused thoughts swirling in his head. She was right. And the thought didn't even cross his mind. It did, now. "I'm gonna have to take a raincheck on that."

There was a flash of disappointment on her face, her chest rising with a breath. "So, it is true."

"What is?"

"That you're… seeing someone," she said awkwardly.

"News travel fast, I see," he raised his brows.

A nervous smile appeared on her face. "I ran into Alan just now, he told me you're here — well, nevermind."

"Just for a while. Till we finish smoking."

"Well…" she trailed off, casting her eyes down, her lips pursing in a sad expression. She reminded him of his sister Aphrodite, with those ridiculous childish pouts and all that annoying chirpiness. Maybe that was why he liked her. Well, that was the only logical explanation. "In that case, I don't wanna finish," she said sulkily.

He looked to where her gaze went, over the railing, and he let his eyes wander, too, all across the vast view of nighttime Vegas. The sight he knew by heart. Funny, how exotic it seemed now. "I gotta go."

"So, it's serious, then," she said quietly. Her lower lip quivered a little, eyes glazing over.

Well, this was definitely not what he expected when Al said she would be disappointed. His relationship with Heidi revolved mainly — solely, in fact — around obscene amount of coke and fucking, whenever they ran into each in Vegas. Which wasn't even that often. A bit more often recently; the last couple of months she'd always been there when he'd met up with Al.

"Well, lemme know when she breaks up with you," she said lightly, turning to leave.

"Might as well be tomorrow," he muttered to himself, glancing at his phone to find it as silent as it had been for the last few hours.

She turned back, their eyes meeting. "Are you okay?"

His mind went blank as he stared at her face, the quiet sadness there unnerving, somehow. Well, no, he was not fucking okay. The more time passed, the more he was starting to regret coming here, having left the way he had — him and his fucking temper — as if it hadn't fucked him up enough times already.

"What's wrong?" she asked in a soft whisper, her perfume reaching him when she moved closer. She smelled a bit like Dite, sweet and rosy.

And, he didn't know what it was, maybe that scent, or something in her voice, the way she touched his arm, but he just felt his mouth open and— "We had a fight before I left, and…now her phone's off and… and I don't fucking know why I'm telling you this—"

"Go to her."

"I'm about to. But it's gonna take a while. My ride back home is ten hours."

"Alan can get you a jet right now—"

"It's ten hours by air."

"Where the heck do you live, Australia? Well, anyway, I'm sure Alan can fix—"

"My jet's already waiting for me."

"Well, then…"

He opened his mouth, exhaled and closed it again. "She's pregnant… if anything happens to her, I…"

There was an abrupt sigh. "Wow… so, you're gonna be a dad," she whispered faintly. "She's a lucky woman."

He huffed, looking at his hands, fiddling with his thumb. "I don't think she feels that way at all."

"I'm sure she does," she said, so close that he smelled her perfume again, felt her mouth brushing his cheek. "If I were her, I would feel so every day," she whispered with a sniffle, the scent fading shortly after.

By the time he opened his eyes, he only saw her back, getting smaller with every second, some weird feeling tugging at his gut. "Heidi."

"Yeah?" she said, not turning back, her voice a bit hoarse.

"If you ever need anything… your brother's got my new number."

"Thanks," her faint voice barely reached him.

She never turned back.