No…she wasn’t looking to catch, just to bait him. To put him in the position where she could get what she wanted. Lyra could hardly explain that to the bartender though, so instead she smiled, and shook her head. “Not yet.”
“You won’t be the first or even the only one right now.”
“I know that.”
“Coming here, though…” Mitch grinned. “Gotta give it to you, it’s a good idea. Most of the others chasing him never set foot through these doors. I’ve heard some stories, though. I keep track of our big clients, you know for future jobs and such. He has women practically throwing themselves at him. I heard that one even sent herself to his office, wrapped up like a present. She was inside. Naked.”
“A ballsy girl.”
“This move is just as ballsy.”
Lyra shrugged. “What can I say? I like to think outside the box, and I’ve never been afraid of a challenge.”
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Ask away.”
“How did you even manage to get membership? Someone has to recommend you.”
Lyra took a long swallow of her water, careful to ensure it didn’t rub her lip-gloss off. “I have my ways.”
“And those ways are?”
“Secret ways,” she said, the image of Little Micky—a hacker she’d known since she was a teenager—dancing through her mind. Micky had hit the membership database up only yesterday, and Lyra’s details would stay in there for at least seventy-two hours. That was how long it took Club Belmont to update their database from the main server, a ridiculously outmoded way of keeping their data secure, but then that was the old style gentleman clubs. Stuck way behind the times. Shitty security and worse, shitty policies.
Little Micky had—on her request—put her down as being recommended by Andros Casstellini himself, and yet even with that recommendation from one of the richest men in the country, she would only be allowed to visit for the next week. Not that she needed the full week. Andros had a meeting in—Lyra cast the rich oak clock over the bar a covert glance—a few minutes.
It was almost show time.
Mitch rolled his eyes at her words. “Secret, huh?”
“Yep.”
“So,” he asked, grinning. “What’s the plan? Are you’re just going to pounce the moment he arrives?”
Lyra laughed again, this time in genuine amusement. “Sweetie, you clearly don’t people watch properly.”
“Meaning what?”
She twirled her tumbler around, watching as the frosted ring glinted from the lights. They were scattered all over the club, twinkling, and filling the room with warmth. Shitty policies or no, Club Belmont did have a certain charm, and it was a novelty for Lyra to be in such a place without wearing a uniform, waiting tables, tending bar, or worse, cleaning.
“I won’t have to pounce,” she said softly. “Five minutes after he arrives Andros will be coming over to me.”
“You think?”
“I’m willing to bet on it.”
Mitch grinned, and gave her the eye. “Twenty quid?”
And though she had no money to spare, Lyra patted him on the hand, allowing her often restrained recklessness free reign, and nodded. “Mitch, you are so on.”
Chapter Two
Andros disliked doing business at the club, not least because the atmosphere was one he never felt comfortable with. Old money, old British charm and worse, the old boys’ network. As a Sicilian he was not part of that network, was barely even accepted on the fringes. He had not attended Eton or Oxford, or any of those institutions the network demanded and so he was taken on sufferance.
No, he thought as he passed his coat to the doorman, not sufferance, it was all a question of money, and he had so much of it that they had no choice but to deal with him. That amused him, was just one more sign of how far he had risen in the world.#p#分页标题#e#
His cell vibrated, and Andros pulled it from his pocket—eyes on the email that had just arrived—as he was escorted into the dining hall. The email was a reminder about a meeting he had in an hour’s time. No point thinking about it yet, he decided, he had to get this one out the way first.
He dismissed the email, looked up, and spotted Lord Carl Ainsley lounging in one of the club’s leather chairs. Though Ainsley was an old boy through and through, he was a cut above the rest of them, certainly more modern, and someone that Andros respected, even liked. They’d known one another for a few years, having worked on a project together. Both had been investors and the project had been a success, adding several million to Andros’ bank accounts, and another string to his ever-growing bow.