Dusting my hands off, I leaned back in my chair and rested my arm on the back of the neighboring one. “I really think you should tell Liam and your dad about your exhibition. I know they’d love to come.” She groaned. “What? I’m just saying.” Why was she hiding this from everyone? We all should be celebrating her. She deserved it so damn much.
“Please don’t tell them.” Her shoulders sagged in defeat. “I know you don’t get it, but I really can’t handle that right now.”
“Alright.” I nodded. It wasn’t my place, but part of me wondered if maybe I should make it my place.
“It’s bad enough that Sloane toldyou.” She grumbled and then, getting an idea, she perked up. “Is there anyway I could bribe you not to come?”
As if I’d ever let that happen,although, there werequite a fewthings I could probably be bribed with right now. Not the point. “Not a chance in hell.” I grinned. “You’re stuck with me, sweetheart.”
She made a fake disgusted noise, but her eyes sparkled just a tiny bit. “I guess I can live with that.” She sipped her orange juice absentmindedly.
At least she was getting her blood sugar up. I’d have to find a way to get something of substance into her though, some protein or carbs at least. She needed something solid to sustain her, so she didn’t faint again. And the drinking had clearly not gotten better either. I blew out a slow breath. One thing at a time. Baby steps. Healing was not linear. I knew that firsthand.
She glanced up at the clock. “I should probably get ready. I have a few things I need to check on before the showing tonight.”
I looked at the time and groaned, not sure how so much time had passed so quickly. “Shit, I gotta get going too.” I pushed my chair back. “You need a ride tonight?”
“I’ll just bring a change of clothes with me and stay until the showing.”
“A ride home then.” I said, punctuating my plan with a nod. “Don’t make plans afterwards. I’m taking you to dinner to celebrate.”
“Burrito Bell?” She laughed.
“No, something nice.”
She bit her lip and nodded tentatively. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I grinned, and for some reason, I wanted to kiss her goodbye, like it was something I’d already done a thousand times, but I caught myself just in time. I sucked in a tight breath and tapped the back of her chair instead. “See ya tonight.” I called, wondering how the hell I was going to get through the day with this aching feeling in my chest. I didn’t want to leave her.
I stood outside the exclusive gentleman’s bar across town and gave the password before I was permitted entrance. Even though it was ten in the morning, it was surprisingly busy as I entered the lounge.
Cigar smoke curled through the air as I passed rows of emerald-green tufted couches that were curved in half moons for close intimate conversations, under low chandeliers.
I nodded politely as I passed several groups of men who continued their conversations quietly, but watched me, as if they’d all been expecting me. If I hadn’t already been on high alert, I certainly was now.
The only woman in the entire establishment had been the hostess, and she’d clearly been dressed to appease the club members. I grimaced, heading towards the table number she’d given me. I wondered how my father had endured things like this, or maybe he was exactly the kind of man who enjoyed these kinds of establishments. I’d been a teenager when he died—what did I even know about him? Truly, when it came down to it. The thought was sobering.
“Carter.” A man with graying hair and a cigar hanging out of his mouth stood to greet me.
Richard.I gritted my teeth and looked around the table, noticing there were four other men seated, two I didn’t recognize. “I supposed I should have expected that you’d be here.”
“Have a seat.” Richard didn’t bother with introductions as he nodded to the only open place at the table.
“Where’s the Director?” I asked, very quickly realizing this was just another game of smoke and mirrors, and a waste of my time.
“Couldn’t make it.” Richard motioned to the booth, and I reluctantly stepped into the velvet-tufted section that made up one of five separate seats that curved all the way around the circular booth.
One of the men I didn’t know but recognized, motioned to the bartender and a moment later, I was served a drink. Unease prickled over me, and while the chatter across the bar didn’t change, I got the odd feeling that I was being watched by everyone in the room.
“I prefer to pour my own drinks these days.” I smiled thinly. “From an unopened bottle, if you don’t mind.”
A moment later, a fresh glass appeared in front of me, and I poured myself a modest serving of scotch from a new bottle. It was ten in the morning, but when in Rome, I supposed. Getting a whiff of smoke, I sipped the amber drink, and it went down smooth as I surveyed my surroundings, quickly understanding that the men who drank here had the kind of influence and power that even money itself couldn’t buy. I knew right then and there that my father and his friends dealt in currencies much more sinister than money. If my attack hadn’t been evidence enough, and it was, the undercurrent in this room left me feeling more than a little agitated and uneasy.
I kept my face bored and uninterested, all while I cataloguedeverythingaround me. People, exits, armed guards near those exits.
Richard lifted the original glass that had been placed in front of me and poured it into his own drink, giving me a smile that didn’t meet his eyes.
“You look more like your father every time I see you,” Samuel Mortarulo mused from across the table while he casually shuffled a deck of cards in his hands over and over.
