Alec’s jaw tightened a fraction. It was the only reaction he allowed himself as the name hit him square in the chest.
“What has she done?” Regina asked.
“Nothing,” he replied, keeping his tone even. “We’re old friends. I just want to talk to her. I’ll call tomorrow to get her address.”
“No outstanding warrants?” she pressed.
“No, she’s clean,” he reassured.
“In that case, I can’t help you.”
The rush of triumph after eight years of searching evaporated in a snap. “Why not?” he ground out.
“Because if you’re old friends and don’t know where she lives, she obviously doesn’t want to be found. Emily isn’t perfect, but she’s one of my best servers. I won’t risk losing her.” She reached up and patted his cheek. “Fellow dominant or not.”
Alec admired her for shielding her staff, even if part of it was protecting her bottom line. It seemed that Emily may have found herself another guard dog. It should’ve eased his mind. Instead, it only sharpened the reminder that he hadn’t been her shield when it mattered most.
Regina tossed back her tequila, sucked her lime, and then hopped off her stool.
“My advice. Get here earlier next Wednesday. I have a feeling she’ll be around.”
Alec grappled with a swirl of emotions as she walked away, triumph that he’d finally found Emily’s elusive trail, and frustration gnawing at him. Four days was too damn long to wait.
A stool scraped against the patio tiles beside him. He glanced over to see a massive figure in black lowering himself onto it. The string of lights over the bar glinted off Leland’s shaved head.
“What’s your interest in Regina’s staff?” he asked.
“It’s personal.”
The big man nodded thoughtfully. “See that subbie clearing the table near the door?”
Alec’s gaze shifted to the pretty brunette with a mass of springy curls. “She’s one of the newer members,” he replied. “Julia, I think.”
“Mm-hmm. Notice the uniform. She works for Regina and might have the information you’re after.”
He hadn’t noticed her until Leland pointed her out. He was really off his game.
“Why would she tell me when Regina won’t?”
“She’s been angling for a scene with me.” From the rise of color in her cheeks and the way she bobbled the tray, empty beer bottles clinking, she’d noticed their attention—or at least Leland’s.
“What’s stopped you?” Alec asked.
“When we’re here on the same night, one of us has always been working. Give me thirty and I’ll have your answer.”
“Regina won’t be pleased if you steal her staff to play.”
“They’re officially done for the night. The curly haired subbie volunteered to help her friends on bar duty with cleanup. Besides, Mistress Richmond owes me a favor. I’ll collect if she gives the girl any grief.” He thumped Alec between the shoulder blades. “You’ll owe me when I return.”
“I’ve got no problem with that.”
Alec signaled the dom tending bar for another beer then watched Leland work his magic. A few words from him and the wide-eyed sub nodded, eagerly agreeing to whatever he suggested. She didn’t hesitate in putting down her tray of empties and hurried after him to the opposite side of the yard, where a swing, suspended from a live oak, swayed in the breeze.
Rather than thirty minutes, it took over an hour. Passionate cries echoed in the night signaling the conclusion of their session. Not long after, Leland returned carrying a blanket-wrapped bundle—a voluminous cloud of springy curls peeking out of one end, pink-tipped toes from the other. He found a vacant couch in an out-of-the-way corner and sat with her cuddled in his lap, encouraging her to take both water and chocolate until she could stand and walk under her own power into the house.
Alec didn’t quibble over the delay. Not when the first words out of his friend’s mouth were, “The Beach Bungalows, North Miami Beach. Apt 318. Same apartment complex as Julia.”
Alec exhaled slowly, tension easing from his shoulders for the first time all night. City. Street. Apartment Number. After years of chasing shadows and finding only dead ends, at long last he had something solid to punch into a GPS.
