“Are you sure? You seemed to be on a roll.”
Thank you, Mason.I forced a smile while wondering if he was trying to stall me. “Do you work for the casino?” I teased.
He gave me an abrupt and forceful, “No.”
“Relax, Dude. I’m kidding.” I laid a hand on his arm to guide him to the bar where you were waiting. You gave him the once over, then turned away and said only to me, “Ask him if he knows Seneser.”
I laid my hand on Mason’s wrist where there was a pale band of skin showing. He must usually wear a watch or bracelet because there was a distinct tan line there.
“What are you drinking?” I gave Mason my best smolder. Again, he seemed surprised, as if I hadn’t just invited him for a drink.
“I’ll have whatever you’re having.”
“Penicillin it is.” I asked the bartender to make us two more of the Pink Ladies, and after Mason had taken his first sip and commented on its unusual flavor, I captured his gaze and asked him if he knew Seneser.
“Who?” he said. I showed him a picture and he shook his head slowly.
“Ask who sent him,” you buzzed in my ear.
“Tell me, Mason…” I stared at him with what I hoped was a playful expression. “Did someone ask you to look for me here tonight?”
He swallowed and tried to look away, but I directed his attention back to me.
“I had to find you,” Mason replied urgently. “He told me I couldn’t leave until I did.” His nervous energy spiked as you climbed off the stool and patted him down, rougher than necessary. I assumed you were searching for a weapon, which was smart, but you’d interrupted my seduction.
“You’re scaring my new friend,” I told you while rubbing Mason’s shoulder lightly. I hoped no one noticed your impromptu frisk.
“Don’t make a move,” you ground out. Mason shuddered in fear.
“Let’s be calm,” I reminded you. I’d get better answers if the man wasn’t terrified. I took Mason’s hand again and gently massaged it until he settled down a bit. Beside me, you growled. I could kick you for being so possessive right then.
“That’s it, Mason. Relax. Doesn’t this feel good?” I nuzzled my nose into the palm of his hand and exhaled into it. He shivered again, this time with pleasure.
“Vincent,” you cautioned.
I said, very sweetly, “If you hadn’t rattled my friend Mason, I wouldn’t need to reassure him, and the more you interrupt me, the more he’ll need comforting.” Hopefully, you’d get the message. You grouched beside me, not moving away but not intruding any more.
“I just want to get to know you a little better, Mason.” I brushed a loose bit of hair from his forehead and he visibly relaxed. “That’s it. Take a deep breath now.” I modeled it for him, and Mason copied me a beat later. “The man who sent you here. Did he tell you his name?’
“N-no.”
“What did he offer you?”
“Money,” Mason replied easily. At last, something concrete.
“How did you know what I looked like?”
“He showed me your picture.” I asked him to describe the photo—it sounded like the same one that Mike at Ruby Slippers had been shown, which upset you even more.
“And what did he tell you to do once you found me?”
“He told me to…” Mason hesitated, so I snaked my hand up under his sleeve to gently squeeze his arm.
“Come on, Mason. You can tell me. We’re friends.”
Mason gulped. “He told me to make myself available.”
“Available? What do you mean?”
