Tables are packed when I step into the entertainment area. The bar is busy and couples are slow dancing. Smoke hangs in the air, swirling in the amber spotlights that illuminate a female singer.
Mitchel Gregor sits alone in a front row booth of the seating section. I observe him for a moment before approaching, getting a read on him. He came highly recommended and I’ve done my research. On paper, he’s the perfect man for the job. But my intuition will be the deciding factor of whether we do business together.
Gregor is younger than I expected, early thirties at most, with the sharp, calculated look of someone who climbed the business ladder quickly. He watches the singer, his gaze analytical rather than appreciative. He’s not here to enjoy the fruits of the speakeasy but on strict business.
I wander through the crowd to him, sidestepping drunk couples and men laughing around a game of poker. Gregor’s cufflinks catch the light as he brings a glass of whiskey to his lips. There’s not a strand of dark hair out of place on his head. His jawline is sharp and he keeps a clean-shaven face.
Gregor’s attention flicks to me upon arrival at his booth. He wipes a napkin over his mouth, having been eating a steak, and stands. “Good evening. Mitchel Gregor.”
The man’s eyes throw me off, his gaze too intenseupon me. Too keen. Too… something. I can’t pinpoint the reason, but I’m instantly wary.
Part of me wonders if I’m self-sabotaging, not allowing anyone to be good enough for this job because it was always supposed to be me and Tyler building this speakeasy together.
“A pleasure to meet you.” Gregor holds out a hand.
“Felix Blackwood.”
We shake hands. His grip is tight, battling against mine.
Noticing his empty whiskey glass, I signal for bar staff to bring us a round of drinks, then I take a seat opposite Gregor at the booth, needing a better read on him before making any final decisions.
“Incredible place you have here.” He places his fork and steak knife to the center of the plate and slides it to the side. “The atmosphere is electric. You serve exquisite food and the finest liquor. You’ve got yourself the best place in the whole of New York.”
A server sets down two glasses of whiskey then disappears. I take a sip, watching Gregor over my glass, suspicious of anyone blowing smoke up my ass. Something about his confidence rubs me the wrong way.
There’s another concern too. The more I look at this man’s face—the hollowing around his eyes and cheeks, and his pale, almost sallow skin—the more I’m questioning whether he’s sick. There’s something about him that even looks familiar. I’m trying to pinpoint if we’ve crossed paths at some point. Did we attend the same high school? Was he at reform school with me?
As quickly as this meeting has started, I’m about to put an end to it, having learned to trust my gut.
But red hair in the distance catches my attention.
Harper approaches, glowing from her performance and with a vibrant smile for me. The public news of our relationship can’t have had a detrimental impact on her career if she’s this happy.
I stand from the booth, drawing her into my arms and kissing her lips. “Welcome home, beautiful. How was your performance?”
She laughs. “Amazing. Ticket sales have tripled in the last few hours since that article about us went live. Have you had your meeting yet?”
“In the middle of it now.”
“Sorry to interrupt?—”
Gregor stands from the table. “Don’t be ridiculous. Mitchel Gregor.” He shakes her hand, smiling a little too broadly at my lady. “So, you’re the real star of Felix’s world. I can see why.Verybeautiful.”
With my arm around Harper’s waist, I feel her flinch at Gregor’s touch. I still can’t figure out why I’m wary of this man, but I don’t want him anywhere near Harper.
“Wait for me in my office,” I tell her. “I won’t be long.”
“Actually, I’d like to stay.” Harper eyes me, attempting to communicate some hidden message. Her voice is firm. She steps in front of me, like she’s trying to shield me with her body.
“Join us.” Gregor gestures for us to sit, pleased by her company.
I don’t like this one bit and pull Harper onto my lap, keeping her close.
The music on stage takes an upbeat turn, faster in pace and louder. Customers are now swinging on the dance floor, laughing and enjoying themselves.
Meanwhile, Gregor watches Harper and me with a faint smirk, sipping his whiskey. “Very attractive couple.”
“You look familiar,” Harper tells him. “Have we met before?”
