“And which are we having tonight?” I ask, dreading the answer.
She removes her hat, placing it beside the bottles. “That,” she says, her lips curving into that enigmatic smile, “is entirely up to you.”
EIGHT
ATHENA
Ruby sets down two crystal tumblers. She’s changed into an elegant black two-piece and her auburn hair falls loose around her shoulders now, softening the sharp angles of her face. She’s beautiful—all controlled grace and barely contained nerves, like a caged wildcat pacing behind glass.
“Scotch,” she says, not quite meeting my eyes. I know she doesn’t sleep much—the security feeds don’t lie—so I don’t feel guilty about forcing this late-night meeting. Some conversations require darkness to flourish. “I’ll get some water too. Would you like ice with your Scotch?”
“No, thank you. I like it neat,” I reply.
While she disappears into the kitchen, I take in the living room. Everything seems staged like a museum exhibit of a life no longer being lived. The grand piano’s lid is closed, its surface unmarred by fingerprints. The cushions on the sofa are perfectly arranged, corners crisp as if they’ve never been disturbed. There are no magazines, no coffee table books, no signs of casual occupation. Even the remote control sits exactly parallel to the edge of the side table. The only personal touch is a photograph ofRuby and a pretty blonde, presumably her late wife. My chest tightens with unexpected sympathy, but I push it aside.
Ruby returns, and I pour us each a generous measure of Macallan 25. “To neighbors,” I say, raising my glass.
“To neighbors,” she echoes, eyeing me warily. She takes a sip, then another, longer this time.Dutch courage.“I assume you’re here about what I might or might not have noticed next door since my office overlooks your driveway.” Her voice is steady despite her obvious discomfort. “I can assure you, I have no interest in your business affairs.”
“Yet it’s caught your attention, hasn’t it?” I lean forward, resting my elbows on my knees. “You’ve been watching. Actively watching.”
Ruby’s shoulders straighten, her lawyer persona emerging. “Look. I don’t know what you want from me. If you’re asking for discretion, you have it. For all I know, you just like to party.”
“But you know it’s more than that.” I study her while the Scotch burns pleasantly, loosening my tongue. “You’re intrigued.”
A flush creeps up her neck, but she doesn’t deny it.Interesting.
“I could show you,” I say, carefully watching her reaction. “I’d rather include you than have you wondering. That could become…problematic.”
Her brow furrows. “Show me?”
Instead of answering, I reach into my bag and withdraw a folder. “But before we go there, you’ll need to sign this.”
Ruby takes the folder, her curiosity clearly piqued. Inside is my standard non-disclosure agreement—thirty pages of ironclad legal language that would make most corporate lawyers weep. It includes clauses about digitalsurveillance, social media blackouts, and financial penalties that could bankrupt a small nation.
She skims through it and frowns. “This is ridiculous. A hundred thousand dollars to sign up? The liability clauses alone are broader than anything I’ve seen in international merger agreements. And this section about ‘activities witnessed or participated in’ is deliberately vague to the point of absurdity.” Her expression hardens as she continues reading. “These provisions—they’re the kind you’d need if you were protecting something criminal. Something that could destroy lives if it came to light, or send you to prison.” She sets the NDA down like it might bite her. “I want no part of this.”
“I thought you might say that. After all, you are one of the top lawyers in this country,” I say. “But I can assure you, nothing criminal happens on my turf. Pleasure? Yes, in many forms. Pain? Perhaps, but only when desired.” I lean forward, holding her gaze. “What I offer is freedom, Ruby. The freedom to explore, to feel, to be someone else entirely for a few precious hours. We all need to escape sometimes. Even you. Especially you.”
Ruby shakes her head and shoots me an incredulous look. Gone are the nerves; she’s offended, angry. “You don’t know what I need. And just because you ‘assure’ me of something doesn’t mean I should take your word for it. Do you think I’m stupid? I don’t know you,” she counters. “I’ve seen enough criminal enterprises disguised as entertainment to last a lifetime.”
“Very well.” I take the folder and slide it back into my bag. I’d anticipated this reaction, and that’s fine. The seed is planted. Curiosity will do the rest. “Then we’ll leave it at that. Whatever happens on my property is my business, and you can keep watching from your window, wondering. Butwhen you change your mind—and you will—you know where to find me.”
Her eyes narrow at that, but I see the spark of interest there too. She’s hooked, despite her better judgment. “You’re clearly used to getting what you want,” she says. “But I won’t change my mind.” She looks me over, then lets out a sharp laugh. “And a hundred thousand dollars? For a membership fee to something I know nothing about?” Another laugh escapes her, this one genuinely amused. “Oh, my God. This is absurd. You’re asking me to pay a fortune and sign away my rights without even telling me what I’m getting into. I doubt your ‘club’ or whatever it is, is even registered.”
“You’re right,” I say. “It’s not registered. The NDA refers to my personal home only. And I’m not doing this for money. I don’t even make a profit.” It’s the truth—the yearly membership fees barely cover expenses. The fleet of limousines, the vetted drivers, the security team that undergoes thorough background checks, the staff who maintain absolute discretion, the free food and exclusive beverages—it all adds up. But this was never about money. I have enough of that from the Olympus. This is about something else entirely, something I recognize in the women who come to me, something I see in Ruby’s eyes even as she protests.
“Naturally,” she says, her voice dripping with cynicism. “You’re doing it for the greater good.” She sets down her glass. “So now that we’ve established I’m not signing your NDA or giving you a hundred thousand dollars, what happens? Someone shows up to threaten me into silence? Are you going to have me shadowed? Intimidate me until I move home?”
Now it’s my turn to laugh. “I’m not sure what kind of person you think I am, but as I said, I’m not a criminal.” Itake another sip of Scotch. “Nothing will happen. We’ll finish our drinks, and you’re always welcome to drop by for coffee or something stronger.” I pause deliberately. “Monday to Wednesday.”
I watch Ruby process this, her mind visibly churning behind those sharp green eyes. She’s looking for the trap, the hidden threat, weighing my words against her instincts.
“So that’s it, then?” she says finally.
I nod. “That’s it. This conversation never happened.” I study her face in the dim light, noting the shadows under her eyes, the tension in her jaw. “But I want to ask you something.”
She tilts her head slightly, cautious. “What?”
