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At first, I feel awkward and unsure of my steps, especially with the blonde now back to doing her robot. But soon enough I start to relax into the music and let my body move freely with the rhythm.
The blonde glances over her shoulder, finally noticing me. "Oh! Hi there." She turns toward me, changing her moves to a much more seductive swaying.
Damn, the girl can dance. Just not by herself.
I slip one hand around the blonde's waist, my other reaching back for the brunette’s shoulder.Our trio moves together in perfect synchronicity. We seem connected by some intangible energy.
This could be a good night.
We dance together until the last notes of the song echo through the club.
The brunette offers a sly smile before departing toward one of the dimly lit tables. "I'll let you two get to know one another," she says.
I glance back at the bar where Savage and Beau are standing, drinking and laughing, then to the blonde. I can’t stop staring at her. Where has she come from? What’s she doing here tonight?
But she's already back in her own world, eyes closed, arms swaying.
I need air.
As I leave, I look back at her one more time—the golden curls that escaped the bun still bouncing in time to an unheard beat—before walking out into the night air, feeling strangely content from our brief but powerful connection on the dance floor.
It’s freezing out here. I watch my breath leave my body in a puff of a white cloud.
I can’t give Rockland what he wants.
I’m already too tied up in something else.
The dance with the blonde just reminded me of that.
seven
Lindy
Idon’t know what I’m doing, feigning disinterest as the Greek god walks away. Ava would kill me for letting my target go—especially after she told Mike I should be the one to get the job over her.
Not to mention the months of prep work we’ve put into this mission…
But luckily, she’s already re-engaged with a man with a beard and longer, wavier hair. He has a dimple in his right cheek. Ava leans on the high top bar table, smiling at him, hanging onto the stranger’s every word.
Someone’s getting lucky tonight.
I keep dancing, slowing down only long enough to glance over my shoulder, watching the exit door close behind the sexy man we just danced with.
Damian Bachman.
Son of Dante Bachman, one of the rotating heads of the Bachman Brotherhood, a mafia that runs not only this city, but the state, large parts of the North to Southeast Coast as well as a chunk of Italy and parts of Greece.
Damian was chosen as my target. My “in” if you will, to investigate this mysterious, powerful group. He’s single and sadly, his mother died recently. Mike chose him, thinking I could be a shoulder he could cry on in his grief, and that he might be less suspicious while needing comfort.
I got a little yucky feeling when Mike told me about Damian’s recent loss.
It felt a little crass to me. Heartless to go after someone when they’re hurting. But I’m not the boss.
I’m supposed to get to know him, hopefully get an invite to their hidden Village in the city. Where I will then find out all their secrets. Write my big piece.
Thus pushing my kitten heel into the door of real journalism while still keeping to the stories I love—salacious gossip.
I’m still reeling from Mike’s announcement at the New Year’s party that I was the one chosen to infiltrate the family. Earlier today, Mike had some very last-minute intel that told us Damian would be here tonight with some friends. Ava and I had to be dressed and on the train within ten minutes of Mike’s call.
