“Just one more. Please, Thea.”
“Give me your keys and I’ll get you one more.”
“I have work in the morning.”
“Then maybe you should stop now.”
“I just had to write three checks for fifteen thousand dollars each. College is expensive. I need to numb my senses so I don’t freak out over the hit to my bank account.”
I couldn’t fault him that, but he’d had four beers already. Driving was out of the question.
“You can’t drive. You know you can’t drive. I’ll call a cab for you when you’re ready. I’ll even walk your keys over to your office tomorrow morning.”
“You drive a hard bargain,” he moaned, but he handed me his keys.
“I’ll be right back with your beer.”
Someone dropped some coins in the jukebox as Pink’s ‘Trouble’ started pumping through the place. Ricki and Dee were dancing as they delivered their drinks. The folks at the pool tables at the far back were getting rowdy, but in a good way. The place was electric. It could hold its own with the best clubs in Manhattan and my guess was it was Amelia’s legacy and Janice was reaping the rewards. Damian would make it right.
Stepping up to the fill station, Mic dropped his elbows on the bar and leaned into me. “What can I get you, babe?”
“Another one for Pat, two gin and tonics with Bombay Sapphire and a Maker’s Mark, neat.”
He grinned, “You got it.”
After dropping off Pat’s beer, I moved to the pool tables to collect empties and that was when I noticed Janice wasn’t in her office, she was up front with Damian. And now that I understood the situation, I couldn’t believe I had confused his expression for lust. He looked to be skinning her alive in his mind. I almost felt sorry for her because she had no clue who she was dealing with. And what was she up to? Damian didn’t contest the will, as far as she knew. She had gotten away with it. He was out of the military and home where Amelia hoped he would settle. So was she hoping to not just get Amelia’s bar but her brother too? From the way she practically licked him when she spoke, I was thinking yes.
“Hey, babe. When do you get off?” I turned to see a biker—long hair and tats all over. He had come-hither eyes and the sexiest smile. The girl hanging on him shot me daggers and I understood. She’d been working him all night, so his invitation to me was a real blow—unless he wanted to party.
Resting my hip on the pool table, I flashed him a smile. “One.” I was digging getting into character, being me but not me.
“Are you doing anything after?”
“I’m going home with the husband.”
“Husband? You’re not wearing a ring.”
“I still have one. That’s him by the door.” I gestured with my head and watched as both the man and his groupie followed the direction.
“He’s hot.” Damian was hot, but I had a feeling this chick’s standards were really low.
“He doesn’t look too thrilled that you’re talking to me.”
I glanced over, he was right, Damian looked annoyed. I flashed him a smile. “He’s the jealous type.”
“You ever looking to party, sweetheart, alone or with your man, give me a call.” He handed me a business card. What kind of biker had business cards? His had a skull on it and his name was Razor. Razor. I was being propositioned in the town of Deadwood by a biker named Razor who owned business cards. I seriously needed to take up writing because you couldn’t make this shit up.
Having fun, feeling flirty and playing the part—three weeks ago someone tried to kill me so why not—I glanced up at him through my lashes and smiled. “Sure thing.” Then tucked the card in my cleavage, his eyes like heat-seeking missiles following my hand as I did so. The girl hissed, he growled, I waved then sauntered off and knew he was checking out my ass as I did.
On my way to the bar, Damian waylaid me. He pulled me into a dark corner, and pressed me up against the wall. For just a second I thought he was going to kiss me. My entire body burned at the thought. His head lowered, my lips parted and he said, “You looking to get raped?”
I went from hot to ice cold in a heartbeat. “Excuse me?”
“Flirting like that will get you in trouble.”
“It was harmless.”
“You know that guy?”
“No.”
“How do you know he’s harmless?”
“It was a little flirty banter.”
“Dude has been in prison twice for sexual assault.”
A shiver went through me. “How do you know?”
“My job to know.”
“Someone should tell that girl.”