The foyer was stunning with spotless gold-swirled marble floors and high cut-crystal chandeliers. Pillars jutted upward here and there around the room, and between them plush red couches broke up the space. The central staircase across from the entrance swept impressively to the second floor. Nearly every available seat was filled with men and women in expensive clothes, from flashy suits to elegant dresses that looked like they cost more than Cillian’s SUV. Diamond necklaces, bracelets, and rings adorned the women, and some of the men, too.
One of the guys caught my attention. He was prettier than most of the women, with slim black pants and a black mesh shirt. He wore a gold necklace thick with green emeralds, and numerous bracelets on both his thin wrists. He was blond and petite, and I suspected he was a professional by how he latched on to a muscular man in a black suit. I’d seen men like the blond before and they usually had a favorite client who smothered them with expensive gifts. Apparently this man enjoyed jewelry—or he was smart enough to know it had good resale value.
I guided Vail to the old-school wooden reception desk on our left where another blond man stood in a formfitting tan suit, his face pinched with stress as he whispered quietly to a woman standing beside him. She grimaced, brushing her brown bangs out of her face but also nodding at whatever he was saying.
“Yes, sir. Sorry, Mr. Winters,” she said, head bowing forward.
He—Mr. Winters, apparently—paused when he saw us and pasted on a fake smile. Straightening, he glanced around at the five of us. “Good afternoon, gentlemen. Welcome to the Courtesan Hotel. Do you have a reservation?”
“Not sure,” Cillian said, pushing his way to the front. I would’ve been annoyed if I didn’t know him so well. He considered himself our little group’s leader and it was easier to let him believe that. “We’re here on invitation from Mr. Derek Uhlig. We are attending his event, and he promised to arrange a room at the Courtesan for us.”
“Of course he did.” A soft, feminine Southern voice came from our left and we glanced at a blonde woman I didn’t know well but had heard about. Madam Winters was the owner of this establishment. A former professional herself, she was strict, dangerous, and full of politeness. It was best not to get on the wrong side of her.
She was classier than the last time I’d seen her, which had been briefly when Sloan visited for a short stay about five years ago before he claimed Conall as his pet. The dress she wore was fitted to her hourglass figure and glittered golden under the bright lights. Her hair had been put up in a twirl on one side of her head, and she looked like she’d stepped right out of a movie from the forties, as elegant as her hotel.
She smiled. “Derek told me we’d have some visitors.” She held out her hand, and Cillian took it, placing a kiss on the back. “And such manners. Your mommas raised you right. Or... your boss. You belong to Sloan, don’t you?”
“Ye are right there, ma’am. The boss expects the best from his men when we’re visiting establishments like yers,” Cillian said.
She let out a breathy laugh and stared at the five of us carefully, understanding passing through her eyes. I felt like she had our number. She waved her hand at Mr. Winters, from the front desk, and I guessed with his looks and the last name he was likely her son. “Darcy, darling, get these men the H suite.”
“The H suite? That sounds fancy,” Cillian said.
Her throaty giggles turned into laughter and she patted him on the cheek. “I know my business, Mr. ....”
“Shaughnessy. Cillian Shaughnessy.” He gestured to Rowen. “This is Rowen, also a Shaughnessy, and that’s Aspen and Fallon, and that’s our bug, Dr. Vail Mifflin.”
She nodded at each of us. “Welcome to the Courtesan. I’m assuming you won’t be asking for company.”
“Company? What kind?” Vail asked, more awake now. He leaned into my arms, and I held him tightly. Considering all the trouble he’d caused, Vail had gotten off easy with Sloan, which was rare, and I didn’t want him pissing off Madam Winters. The last thing we needed was for Sloan to be on our asses for that. If we did something to tarnish his name, hewouldkill Vail, no matter how adorable he was.
Madam Winters canted her head toward him. “The fun kind.”
“No,” Cillian said sharply. “We have all the company we need.”
She sent him a smile. “Lovely. If you change your mind—”
“We won’t. Thank you,” I said, pulling Vail against me roughly.
Her smile turned smug and she gave her son a look. He nodded and turned to scurry around, collecting room key cards.
“I’ll need information from you,” he said, half glaring at Cillian as though it was an inconvenience. The woman beside him winced and stepped back, and I felt sorry for her. He seemed like a prick.
I stayed beside Vail, who was surprisingly calm as he took in the elegant surroundings. Something bumped his shoe, though, and he jumped, gasping in surprise. I spun, ready to snap at whoever had hit him, but stopped myself before I did. A man stood near him, a white cane in his hand, which is what had touched Vail’s foot. He wore dark glasses and had a dog harness clutched in his other hand, which was attached to a golden retriever.
“Sorry about that,” the man said, giving Vail a winning smile. He wore a suit like many of the other men in the Courtesan, but there was something different about him. He seemed down-to-earth. “There’s quite a few people in here today, so it’s been a maze for me and Lemonade.”
“That’s fine. I’m not hurt.” Vail glanced down at the dog, reaching out his hand before he snapped it back. “Sorry. I was going to pet your dog. She’s working. I shouldn’t, right?”
The man nodded. “Yes, please don’t.”
“Brooks.” Mr. Winters straightened and said something to the woman behind him. She nodded and took over his spot at the desk as he came rushing around to greet the blind man... with a kiss. “What are you doing here? I told you I’d meet you outside.”
“I wanted to come in and make sure you actually leave on time.” Brooks’ mouth curved into a grin and the scene felt intimate.
The young woman who’d taken over for Mr. Winters cleared her throat and passed a set of key cards to Cillian. “Your room is 15. If you’d like to get settled in, we’ll have Marco bring your suitcases over as soon as possible.”
Cillian nodded in thanks and cocked his head at us to follow. Past the grand staircase on the right was an arched hallway, and even though I’d been in the Killough mansion I had to admire the antique gold tiles overhead that came together in a point.
