They sit arm-in-arm, and, thanks to the glass separating the club from the VIP area, the music isn’t as loud here, making normal-level conversations easy to follow.
“She’s worried,” Carter says.
Dante leans out to get a better look at me, his bright-green eyes boring into mine. There’s no hostility there but knowing what he represents makes my stomach churn.
Funny that I don’t feel intimidated by Carter even though he looks much more sinister.
“We’ll be right behind that wall,” he says, pointing to where a bouncer I haven’t noticed stands like a statue. “Every inch of this place is under strict surveillance, and the feed goes straight into my office. If anything happens, we’ll know before you do.” He pauses, narrowing his eyes slightly. “Would it make you feel better if the security up here was tighter?”
“No, I... I’ll be okay. I’m overreacting.”
He smirks, glancing at Carter. “In that case, let’s get the meeting over and done with.”
As soon as he stands, his men follow suit. Save for Carter, Koby, and the six nameless guys, everyone’s on their feet.
“I won’t be long,” Carter tells me, his thumb drawing small circles on my thigh. “I’ll keep an eye on you.”
With that, he gets up and leaves.
I watch him follow Dante behind a pair of black doors. As soon Carter’s out of sight, I let out a shaky breath, calming myself down.
Koby sends me a reassuring smile, diving back into a conversation with a man on his left as six women approach, all visibly out of breath. They take a seat while Layla introduces me asCarter’s girl. She raises her mojito, urging me to do the same while the women’s eyes drill holes in my face.
“So,” one of them asks, pointing between me and the door Carter disappeared behind. “How long has this been going on?”
“None of your goddamn business, Pam,” Koby seethes.
“Why so touchy?” She twirls. “Given those puppy eyes, I think she should know not to get her hopes up. Save for the main trio...” She pinches her red lips together, pointing to Layla and two other girls, “...we were all in your shoes at one point, so a friendly heads-up: Carter changes his toys as often as the clip in his gun.”
Koby’s opening his mouth to say something, but I shoot him a pointed stare. I don’t know how often Dante’s men change their girls, but it’s clear that at least themain triois here to stay. I doubtI’mhere to stay... but on the off chance Carter means what he says, I can’t let anyone walk all over me or I’ll never garner any respect.
“You call a quick fuck being in her shoes?” Layla asks, one eyebrow raised. “When haveyoubeen here on Carter’s arm? I don’t recall him ever bringing a girl to the table and I’ve known him for eight years, Pam.”
“Potato, potato,” a girl sitting arm-in-arm with Pam says. “Enjoy it while you can, but don’t think you’re special or that you’ll hold his interest. None of us ever could.”
“Maybe that’s the difference between us,” I muse, swirling the mint leaves in my glass with my straw. “You try too hard.”
Her cheeks grow red, making her a few points more gorgeous. They’re all beautiful. Not a scar between them on their smooth skins. They dress better than I do, showing off more, confident in their bodies, but I don’t let that faze me.
“We’re on the same team here, sweetie,” Pam says, leaning across the table in an attempt to intimidate me. “We’re just trying to help. Carter gets bored quickly. He might’ve brought you here tonight, but you’re just a diversion. He’s been gone three months, you know? You’re here to distract everyone from asking where he was.”
A smile breaks across my face as I lift the mojito, taking a slow, deliberate sip, the rum coursing through my veins making me brave. “He was with me.”
“Hailey,” Koby pipes in. “Careful.”
“He was withyou?” Pam spits out, disbelief shining in her eyes. “Doingwhat?”
“I believe that information is way above your pay grade.”
Anger gushes through her so fast I have a feeling she might rip all my hair out.
“Time for you to go downstairs,” Koby tells her. It’s not a request, and it’s not treated as one when she nonchalantly turns her head, rising to her stilettoes, hips swaying the second she clears the narrow space between table and couch.
“Are you coming, Hailey?” Layla asks, setting her empty glass on a tray in the middle of the table.
“No, thank you. Have fun.”
She sends me what could be construed as a reassuring smile. As soon as she’s up, she levels her step with Pam.
