The crowd swallows him up as he walks away, and Snake gently puts his fingers on my arm, leading me down a private hallway and into the biggest damn office I’ve ever been in. It’s bigger than my apartment.
“He’ll be here in a few,” Snake says and then backs out of the room, shutting the door behind him.
He doesn’t lock me in, and I breathe a sigh of relief at that.
There are windows that look out to the Strip, but we’re not very high up, and I can’t help but wonder if they’re one-way glass, so he can see out but no one else can see in.
The furniture is surprisingly modern. Lots of glass and chrome, with black leather chairs. It’s fancy.
Not knowing what else to do with myself, I sit in one of the chairs facing the desk and try to decide what in the hell I’m going to do when he walks back in here.
I realize that he doesn’t necessarily scare me. Sure, he could easily hurt me, or evenkillme, but I don’t think that’s the objective here. He can’t know who I am, and even if he did, I’m just a tattoo artist in Vegas. So that doesn’t worry me.
It’s not long before the office door opens and Mateo strides in, dressed in black jeans and a black Henley, the sleeves pulled up just below his elbows, showing off the ink and veins on his forearms.
His eyes light up when he sees me.
“You stayed.”
“I guess I did. Why did you want to see me?”
He doesn’t answer for a moment as he pours whiskey into two glasses and passes me one, then takes a sip out of the other.
Deciding that I can use a little liquid courage, I take a sip, holding his gaze, and enjoy the way it burns going down.
“Why were you here tonight?” he asks, throwing me off guard.
“Because I like to watch fights.”
I take another sip and stand to look out the windows. Mateo’s leaning back against his desk, watching me.
“Is this one-way glass?” I ask him.
“Yes.”
Nodding, I turn around and face him. “Is that all you wanted me for? Do you poll everyone who comes in here?”
“You don’t belong here.”
Okay, that doesn’t feel good. Fuck this guy.
“Right. Well, then I won’t be back. Sorry that I offended you.” I set the glass on his desk and walk toward the exit, but I hear the mechanism in the door as it locks. “Let me out of here.”
“When I said that you don’t belong here, I meant that as a good thing.” He’s getting closer and closer to me as he speaks, and then he’s at my back, and he brushes his hand down my braid. “It was refreshing when I looked out in the crowd and saw you.”
“Why?”
I turn to look at him, having to crane my neck back to see him because he’s standing so close.
“You’re beautiful, but you don’t try too hard with it. You’re aware of your surroundings. You didn’t jump at the chance to let me bring you back here and fuck you, just because of who I am.”
“And who are you, exactly?”
He smiles that pleased smile again, and it makes my stomach tighten.
“Yeah, I like that.”
He lifts his hand and brushes a piece of hair that came out of my braid behind my ear, watching me closely.
