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“I love that they welcome all walks of life, no matter who you are.” I watched her cut into hermicilike it was a steak, sawing it into bite-size bits and gracefully placing it in her mouth. I waited for the grimace, the acknowledgment of crappy-tasting food, of a meat substance I couldn’t even place. She probably ate gourmet food, had a chef prepare her meals, but she said nothing. “You can be anyone here.”
She popped another piece into her mouth, taking a swig of brandy. Chewing, she stared around the room, looking at everyone. “There were… social events my mother had to put on.” Her gaze still danced around the room. “I would get so bored.” Her eyes rolled back. “Gods, I hated them. Especially when I was young. My brother was better at faking it, being charming. Though, don’t get me wrong. He was a terror too.” A genuine smile lit her face. “But he was better at acting innocent and wiggling out of trouble.”
“Not you?” I tipped the glass to my lips, my gaze locked on her.
“No. I was the troublemaker. I couldn’t control my emotions as easily as him. And because I was a girl, most thought I should be sweet and pretty. The quiet, well-mannered one.” She finished off a fry, wiping her hands on a serviette. “My best friend… he…” Pain cut over her stunning features, telling me it was the boy she had talked about. Her first love. “He started this game to distract me when I was close to losing it. He would point to someone and make up crazy stories about the people in the room.” She laughed to herself. “Affairs, murders, blackmail. Gamblers and thieves, pirates and spies. The older we got, the more gruesome and torrid they would get.” She batted her lashes, her eyes clouding over. “What’s funny is these people…” she glanced around. “They would be the lives we would give those stuffy types. It’s like I got dropped in one of my stories.”
“You mean, you never thought you’d be on the run in Romania with cracked ribs, eating mystery meat in a whorehouse, while that man gets a blowjob under the table?” I nodded to the booth behind Scarlet. Her head snapped around, seeing the male prostitute under the table sucking the man off while he ate his dinner.
Her head swung back to me, her eyes wide, her cheeks pink, a nervous laugh coming from her. “Wow.”
“Guess they’re both getting sausage packed with mystery meat.”
A burst of laughter bubbled out of her, spreading warmth through my chest like a numbing agent. Our eyes connected, and I felt something tug inside me, and I realized I was smiling back at her. An authentic, genuine smile. Something I thought had shriveled up and died.
“Tell me.” I leaned back in the chair, peering at her with a heavy gaze. Each sip of brandy heated my frozen limbs, relaxing my muscles. My legs spread wide under the table. “What story would you give me?”
“You?” She lowered her cup, her attention not able to stay on me. She licked her lips, her voice low. “You arethe story.”
Fire speared from my chest, moving out. “Okay, then give me the opposite life.” I could think of no good reason why I was playing this game, but I couldn’t seem to stop.
Her emerald eyes finally met mine, and they contemplated me, her nails tapping on her lips.
“Banker?” She shook her head. “No, substitute teacher.”
Liquid caught in my throat as a laugh snorted out of me. “Substitute teacher?”
“Sadly.” She shook her head. “Your lack of confidence and the inability to speak in public because of your shyness keeps you from getting a full-time position or a date. You have no friends because you smell like curdled cheese.”
Pounding at my chest, I choked out more laughter.
“And because of that, you have to live in your mother’s attic, practicing origami and abstinence.”
My head tipped back with a roar, amusement aching my stomach muscles like they hadn’t been used in a long time.
“Wow.” I wiped my eyes, tipping my glass to her. “Some imagination there.”
Her eyebrows wiggled, her mischievous smile matching mine. “If you only knew.”
Once again our eyes caught, staying on each other far longer than they should have. I could feel the shift, see the smile drop slowly from her full lips, her throat sucking in.
Something in my gut clenched. Completely bare of makeup, dirty, sweaty, bruised, and still probably half frozen, she glowed with life. With depth I had not seen before. Her beauty shined through, striking me in the dim light.
A groan came from the table behind her, pulling her attention away, and her breath hitched. The man’s moans puffed out quicker, a bite of food pausing on his lips as he groaned out a long huff, releasing into the prostitute’s mouth. The whore’s throat bobbed as he swallowed him down.
My cock stiffened, need tightening my balls, my mind flickering with memories of Scarlet’s teeth cutting into my neck, her wetness soaking into my pants.
A surge of guilt, anger, and disgust shot me up from the table, desperate to get far away from here. From her. She was a child compared to me. I could not think of her that way.
“Let’s get a room so you can clean up and rest.”
I picked out the madam at the bar. Dressed in finer clothes, she was about five-three and of Turkish descent. Nothing about her features suggested danger in any way, but she had an aura around her. A power. Her yellow eyes watching and noticing everything.
They tracked me as I strolled up to her.
“You need a room,” she stated before I could even open my mouth.
“Yes.” I flicked back at my companion. Scarlet was occupied with watching the debauchery happening around her. She tried to pretend she wasn’t affected, but I could see the discomfort, the shock in her eyes. “Just the one for her,” I said to the madam.
