Page 78 of Resist

I motion for him to lean closer. “The woman the other night is off limits. Roxanne was the wife of a client. I was trying to see what her Mendoza Line is for settlement acceptance,” I lie without a flinch or a fucking care. “And while I appreciate you wanting to chat, you’re right. It’s been a shit week, and I want to sit here and enjoy my cigar and my drink without having to make small talk with you.” I offer a tight smile and then lean my head back again, close my eyes, tune him out, and wonder if she’ll call.

I turn my cell over in my hand with half a mind to text Stuart and tell him to find out all he can on her. The details I don’t know. The answers to the questions I still have.

Because I may know some of it, but I’m sure I don’t know the half of it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

Vaughn

I know you better than you think. We’re inevitable. You and me.

I stare at my text again—at the “private caller” for the identifier—and shake my head, confused and curious.

Who is this? I text back.

You know who I am.

The five words send an unexpected chill up my spine. I stare at the text again.

A wrong number, maybe? Or perhaps Ryker giving me a little push to call him back with plans?

Inevitable. That word rings through my mind. Senator Carter Preston. Wasn’t that the word he used? This can’t be him, can it?

Melissa bumps her hip against mine where I’ve stood for way too long looking at my phone. “Someone is here to see you.”

“Mr. Grab Ass in the Four Pod?” I ask in exasperation.

“No. From what I can tell, he’s made some phone calls and he’s willing to pay others for the service he wants from you.”

“What are you talking about?” I laugh as Ahmed gives me a thumbs-up across the bar top to make sure I’m doing okay. I nod.

“Escorts. Hookers. Whatever you want to call them, the Four Pod is now full of them.”

“How do you know they’re escorts or hookers?” I ask.

“Honey, I can spot them bitches a mile away.”

I all but choke on my next breath of air.

Good to know.

I cover my choke with a cough. “Guess that’s good news for me.” I flash a smile, and then my scattered brain remembers, “Wait, you said someone was here to see me.”

“Yeah. She’s down by the locker rooms.” She places her drinks on her tray as a new song plays and the lights change from blue to lavender with it. “I can tell her you’re busy if you want.”

Her?

“No. That’s fine.”

I walk the few feet to the hallway that houses the locker room and come to a stop when I’m met by a gorgeous woman. Close to six foot in heels, silky auburn hair, and an outfit that’s way too expensive even for this upscale club. She appraises me, a disdainful scowl on her face as her eyes scrape up and down the length of me.

“Can I help you?” I ask above the music. It’s loud down here but still possible to talk without yelling.

“Not what I expected at all,” she murmurs.

“Excuse me?”

“You’re nothing like Ryker’s type.”