"Ice said the office was down the back." I gestured toward an open door.
Ares grunted something before guiding me firmly in that direction, like he couldn't get out of here fast enough.
It wasn't the sex or the nudity. It was the men present, and him not wanting them to look at me the way they were looking at the dancer. My boyfriends were the dictionary definition of possessive. They'd literally poke out eyeballs if anyone who shouldn't saw me naked. Eyeballs if the guy was lucky. They might start with his balls instead.
And if they tried to touch me? Yeah, they'd regret it. Painfully.
Chelsea looked up from where she sat behind her desk as we stepped into the office.
"Kennedy, Ares, it's nice to see you both." She rose to her feet, stepped around her desk, and stretched out her hand.
I took it, but pulled her in for a hug.
"Ice sent that from him and this one is from me." I hugged her again.
She hugged me back warmly. Her caring, former doctor mode was never far from the surface.
At the same time, she had a dangerous streak, like her brother. For years she'd fought to escape the mobster life. Eventually, she accepted it.
Since then, she'd embraced her role as mafia princess with even more enthusiasm than I had. I had some idea how much money was laundered through this place. Although, since she was also taking girls off the street, giving them employment and helping them to get their lives together, I wasn't going to judge.
Dusk Bay was, at times, a dangerous place to live. I was behind anything that made it safer for anyone, especially women.
"What brings you both down here?" she asked, giving us both speculative looks. Ares in particular.
It wasn't that they disliked each other so much as he disliked most people. If he trusted her, he gave no sign. It wasn't personal, it was Ares being Ares. He hadn't changed since I met him. I doubted he ever would. Honestly, I didn't want him to. I liked his dark moods. And the way he always watched me, and the people around us. He reminded me of a predator, guarding their much-valued prey. Like a dragon watching over a pile of gold.
In as few words and with as little eye rolling as I could manage, I explained the situation.
"So a few 'presents' might exchange hands at the party," she said slowly.
"We might also have a good time." I shrugged.
Ares snorted.
Chelsea sat on the side of her desk, her long legs crossed, and regarded us both.
"Let me guess, Ares doesn't like the idea. Most of my guys wouldn't like it either. Storm, in particular." She smiled indulgently.
Storm Keller was the fullback for the Smashers. He seemed to have a chip on his shoulder, at least as big as the one on Ares’ shoulder. He got his aggression out on the footy field, for the most part. He also did jobs for Reuben here and there.
"I was going to ask you for help, but not if it'll cause problems at home." The last thing I wanted was to create trouble between her and her six boyfriends. That sounded like six headaches to me. Three boyfriends was the perfect number, as far as I was concerned.
I didn't know how she managed six, but she seemed to be having the time of her life. I loved that for her.
"Don't worry about them," she said, waving a hand dismissively. "I'll handle them. I'd love to help you. Whatever's going down, the more people in your corner, the better." She chewed at her lower lip.
"We need to sit down and make a list of what we need. Unless you've started that already?" She cocked her head at me.
"I hadn't even thought about starting," I admitted, grimacing to myself.
"You only heard about it an hour ago," Ares said. "Don't give yourself shit over it." He looked like he didn't know where to glare, so he settled for glaring back out the door, even though there was no one in sight.
"Give yourself a break," Chelsea said gently. "The first thing we need is a guest list. That should be the easy part."
"You think so?" Ares turned back to her.
"Absolutely." She said, unflinching. "The entire Brantley family. And most of the people who work for them. The Smashers. The Demons. Wolf Venom." She thought for a moment. "I think that's everyone."
