“Taking Saint home,” I informed him. “She left her purse at the table. Can you grab it and meet us out front?”
Gambit grunted his acknowledgment before hanging up. I pocketed my phone, leading Saint around the stage area toward the back of the club, where we could exit into the foyer, all while scanning the crowd through the flashing lights. It was still early for some, not even midnight, and I knew the Dischordium boys were having an after-party because we’d been invited. Though as much as it would’ve been cool to go, the private after-party Saint and I were about to have appealed to me way more.
We hit the foyer, and I kept my arm around Saint, shielding her from the wall of windows at the entrance of the club where the paparazzi lay in wait.
“Ice,” a voice called.
I whipped around to see Gambit walking toward us empty-handed.
“It’s not there,” he told me, his jaw setting in a harsh line. “It’s gone.”
“Fuck,” Saint murmured. “My keys, phone, and a credit card were in there.”
“It’s either been taken by mistake, or somebody swiped it,” Gambit added. “With everything going on, I can’t help suspect someone’s playing stupid fuckin’ games.”
Saint’s eyes slashed toward me, and she clutched my arm tightly. “I should’ve been more careful. I thought it would be okay in the VIP area. There’s security everywhere. I just went up to dance, then the next thing I knew, Noah called me on stage.”
I shot Gambit a sharp look, my mind already running through possible scenarios. “Hundreds of people had access to the area.”
He nodded his agreement. “Yeah. I can check the security footage, but it’ll be like looking for a needle in a haystack, and unless the cameras were in the spot where it happened at the right time, they wouldn’t have picked up on anything.”
My arm tightened around Saint’s shoulders. “I’ve got keys to your house, so we can get in, but I think it’ll be a good idea to grab some stuff and go to a hotel. I’ll arrange to get your locks changed tomorrow and reset your security system.”
Saint nodded, biting her lip nervously.
“We’ll figure it out,” I assured her. “I won’t let anyone get to you.”
Her shoulders relaxed slightly, and she smiled. “I know you won’t. I just feel stupid for being so careless.”
“You didn’t ask to get your purse taken, Saint,” Gambit pointed out gently. “It’s not your fault.”
“He’s right, baby,” I concurred. “It could be somebody took it by mistake, or it may just be a chancer out to make a quick buck. We’ll go back to the house, cancel your credit card, and pack a bag. We can do the rest of the shit tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she agreed.
“Saint!” a voice called out.
I turned to see Talia come bustling out into the foyer.
“Where the fuck were you?” she demanded. “I waited, then I went backstage to look for you and saw Noah, who sent me back out, saying you’d gone to dance. I’ve been looking goddamned everywhere.”
“Sorry,” Saint murmured, her cheeks flushing prettily. “I must’ve missed you.”
Talia’s eyes took in Saint’s appearance before sweeping to me. She cocked an eyebrow. “I see how it is. Jesus, it’s like a bad nineties movie about the beautiful singer and the bodyguard.” Her lips twisted. “Whitney and Kevin, eat your heart out.”
Saint’s smile was saccharine sweet. “By the way. I ended things with Hunter. You better get behind that.”
“Ugh,” Tally exclaimed. “And there was me thinking I’d get an easy day tomorrow.” Her eyes came to me accusingly. “And what about your wife?”
A strangled noise escaped Gambit’s throat, and he let out a cough.
“Tally,” Saint murmured. “It’s none of your business.”
“You’re my business,” Talia stated emphatically. “And if you’re seeing a married man, it’s not just the breakup with Hunter I need to get behind, is it?”
I heaved out a breath. “My wife’s dead, Talia. She passed away twelve years ago.”
“Well fuck,” Talia exclaimed. “Now I feel like a cunt.”
