I spot Josslyn right away. She’s at the other end of the bar speaking to a woman I’ve seen here before. As close as they’re sitting, they’re either going to make out or they’re having a very private conversation. That woman better hope to God she doesn’t try the former while I’m here. I take a deep breath, let it out, and adjust the stupid mask on my face. I ask for a drink and sip it slowly, as they have what seems like the longest conversation in history. They have to be discussing Mallory. There’s no way Josslyn is here for anything else.
I watch a man in a suit walk up to them. He has silver hair and no mask on. He looks old enough to be my dad. He grins and says something to them that makes them both laugh. Josslyn’s smile remains on her face as she listens to him speak, and I decide I don’t like it—not the undivided attention she’s giving him, and definitely not the smile. He crosses his arms and plants his feet like he’s going to be there a while, so I lean back slightly and get comfortable.
The woman says something that makes the guy laugh and look at Josslyn again. I clench my fists as he uncrosses his arms and reaches for hers to examine—or make the point—that she doesn’t have a wristband on. The biggest downside to my being here is that I can’t say anything to her about this. Then again, what would I say? That she should’ve been wearing a white wristband? I’ve made it pretty clear that I won’t share her, but she didn’t agree to exclusivity, did she? Big oversight on my part. It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m giving myself a deadline to seal the deal and rid myself of this possessiveness I feel when it comes to her.
Josslyn lowers her hand and says something that makes the man clutch his chest like she hurt him, which I like. He turns and looks toward the entryway and says, “John!” loud enough for me to hear, and a man wearing jeans and a sports coat walks over. This one is much younger. The older one introduces him to Josslyn, who surprisingly doesn’t smile at him. He looks serious as he sayssomething to her. My stomach tightens when she hands him her phone and I decide I can’t stay here any longer. I shoot back the rest of my drink and signal the woman who took my order so she can bring the check.
While I wait, the two men finally leave, and Josslyn and the woman talk some more. They stand suddenly and Josslyn grabs her things. I shoot a look in the direction of the server, hoping she catches it and understands I’m in a rush. She brings the check and I hand over my card quickly as I watch Josslyn and the woman walk out of the room. Jesus Christ, how long does it take to charge a twelve dollar drink? The woman finally comes back, and I get up as quickly as I can.
Josslyn is down the hall, turning toward the exit, and the woman she was speaking to walks in my direction. She smiles at me as she passes. I’ve definitely seen her. I stop before I reach the lobby and look down the hall in the direction that Mallory went the night she died. They’ve remodeled the wing. You can’t even tell there was ever a fire here. It’s as if nothing ever happened, which serves as a reminder as to why I’m doing this. Mallory can’t just be forgotten. Before I turn to leave, I catch sight of the John guy coming out of one of the rooms.
I don’t think. I head his way and take him in fully. He’s much shorter than I am, but I can tell he works out a lot. From experience, I know that doesn’t mean much in a fight. I consider it, but I know it won’t do me any favors. Instead, just as he’s about to walk past me, I get closer.
“Hey, I hope you don’t mind me asking,” I say, making him stop walking. “I saw you talking to a woman in a black dress earlier. Long dark hair, tan skin...”
He frowns slightly. “What about her?”
“Are you involved?”
His brows shoot up and understanding replaces the suspicion on his face. “Not yet,” he says, smirking. “You interested?”
My heart pounds hard against my chest. “Would you be able to make that happen for me?”
“Maybe.” He shrugs. “For a price.”
I cross my arms to keep from reaching out and choking him. “How much?”
“I run an exclusive group and she’s thinking about joining,” he says. “There’s a membership fee, but if you want to get to know her, you should check it out.”
“Do you have a card?”
He fishes out a card from the inside pocket of his jacket and hands it to me. I take it and glance at it briefly. “Call me and we’ll set something up.”
I give a nod and walk away. On the way to my car, I text my cousin about John Petrov and Google to see what information I can find. I’m not surprised to find Josslyn's car is gone. I call my mother to let her know I won’t be making it to dinner and promise her I’ll come next time. Most likely, she told some woman that I’d be there and was hoping I’d magically become interested in her. As soon as I hang up, my phone vibrates with a call from Lucas.
“Why the hell are you talking to that guy?”
“Who is he? The card says nothing but his name and number.”
“He’s the one who ran the underground club with the fifty-thousand a month membership. The cops were called once because a wife showed up here after finding out her husband was a member. Stop me when any of this sounds familiar...”
“I vaguely remember it,” I respond, frowning.
He laughs. “Jesus, Finn. The wife tried to sue us.”
“When did this happen?”
“Last May.”
I remember him telling me about the incident. “I was in the middle of playoffs.”
“Right. Well, John doesn’t conduct business here anymore.”
“He does at Onyx.”
“I heard. He’s good friends with the owner there, so it doesn’t surprise me,” he says, pausing when someone starts speaking to him. “Were you at Onyx?”
“What are the underground groups like?” I ask, ignoring his question.
