She snickers. “I saw what you did. You beat him up to look like me. An eye for an eye? I’m not sure that’s what the Old Testament had in mind but it felt righteous.”
I put my arm around her waist and kiss the tip of her nose. “God works in mysterious ways, darlin’. Let’s go. We’re late.”
On the Brooklyn Bridge, the lights of midtown remind me she’s got a heavy night of partying ahead of her. “Ready?”
She sighs. “I’m not sure I can handle any more surprises. Tell me, where is this shindig taking place?”
“You really don’t know?”
“No. I tried to find out but everyone was tight-lipped.”
“Hunk-o-rama.”
At my spoiler, her eyes go wide. “No fucking way.”
“Yes way. Why?”
“Oh my God. It’s the same club where Gallo gets her male escorts.”
“Come again?” I pull to the curb by a hydrant, hit my flashers, and stare across the seat.
Eyes wide, she grabs my knee. “I can’t believe I didn’t tell you. Last week Martha gave me a scrapbook full of old photos. That’s how I knew Mrs. Gallo knew my uncle Vinny and why I went to talk to him. After, I called Jason to send me her phone records. ‘Hunk-o-rama’ was high on her list of frequent calls. Finally, we’ve caught a break. Maybe we can solve this case, after all.”
“Huh.” Not a brilliant response on my part but to be fair, this is the first I’m hearing of it.
I can’t very well prevent her from going to her own party but no way am I leaving her alone in that establishment.
Once we arrive in midtown, I swing around the corner and park my SUV in a lot. I’m still in my dress suit so it shouldn’t be hard to convince the guy at the door to let me in.
Taking her arm, my fucking heart stutters. She’s wearing more makeup than usual to hide the black and blue. Her black skirt hugs her gorgeous body and she’s topped the look off with a fuzzy short top. Her hair is down and she did something to make the waves into tight curls.
Damn, she could be a movie star about to make a debut. Those bright red lips curl up at me, my cock jumps to attention, and all I want is to make love to her.
Down boy. We got work to do.My appendage refuses to surrender because she’s so damn hot whenshe eyes me up and down.
“You clean up real nice.”
“Nothin’ compared to you, sugar. You think they’ll let me in?” I twirl in front her.
“I’ll simply say you’re my bodyguard. If not, you could always try the stage entrance.”
I wink. “You’d be okay with all those women ogling me?”
“Nu-uh. Stay close. You’re with me.” She wobbles a little on her stilettos and her red nails dig into my arm. I’ve been doing this bodyguard thing for years but when it’s my own woman, it’s a whole lot different and hard to disconnect the heart from the job at hand.
Me Tarzan. You Jane.
At the door, I flash my Patten credentials. The bouncer doesn’t even raise a brow as he ushers us in. “Private party downstairs and to your left.”
“Do your cousins use this place often?” Male dancers in all phases of undress stare at me from the photos on the wall, making me a mite uncomfortable.
“Don’t get jealous. Most of the dancers are gay. They’ll probably hit on you before me.”
“That’s what I was afraid of.” I stop with my hand on the door. “I’ll be in the back, watching. If I say we go, we go. If I say duck, you…”
“Quack?”
“Sam, this is serious.”
