The bill disappears from the counter into her pocket so fast, I would have missed it if I weren’t the one bribing her.
“Name.”
I lean forward, the short dress forgotten. “Norbert Pascal.”
She gets closer, wiping the bar, and without taking her eyes from the task at hand, she delivers. “The wiry, tall guy in a silk robe over his dress shirt. You’re lucky he didn’t go upstairs yet. Good luck.”
“What is upstairs?”
“Playrooms, and some private bedrooms.” She leaves me to my drink with this valuable intel.
I take another gulp. I shouldn’t, but even after three or four drinks I’m still on the edge. I swivel on my stool and scan the room with renewed determination, closer to my goal.
I find the man described as Pascal quickly. Of course he’s draped in silk and temptation. Meanwhile, I’m draped in anxiety and questionable choices.
I swear under my breath. Yes, I found the man, but what now? Getting closer to the goal doesn’t mean things get easier.
“I don’t think he plays for your team.” A deep baritone wraps around my skin, sliding down my spine like warm honey.
I snap my head, and my gaze collides with grayish pupils that feel somewhat familiar, but I don’t think about it because I’m annoyed by the interruption.
“I’m not looking for company.” I turn away.
“Obviously.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I take another generous sip. Ill-advised, but let’s hope I can hold my liquor. I need to get rid of this asshole.
“You’ve been staring at a man who is enjoying his present company.” The smirk in his voice grates on my nerves. “A waste of time, I reckon.”
“Something you’re familiar with since you’re wasting yours. And I wasn’t looking for a narrator to my night here, thank you very much.”
But unfortunately, he’s right. The art of female seduction might not work in this case. Norbert Pascal is getting very personal with two men who look—even masked—significantly younger than him.
I’m not judging, I’m just not sure how I would interrupt him. I groan when the three of them stand up and move toward the staircase.
I briefly consider running after them, but spoiling their evening wouldn’t get me anything from the jeweler.
The three men ascend the stairs leisurely, while I wonder how long I would need to wait for them.
Or how much alcohol I can still consume while remaining reasonably coherent to succeed in my mission.
“I guess you need a new target,” the stranger muses.
“Oh, you’re still here?”
I give him my best bored expression, even though he can’t see its perfection. If this mask wasn’t on, he’d enjoy the full force of my “go away” face.
He chuckles. Like my effort to put him off is entertaining.
“And so are you,” he drawls. “Let me buy you a drink.”
“Ihavea drink.”
“Well, then, cheers.” He raises his clear cocktail.
Something about not drinking whiskey like all the men in my life makes him… I don’t know. Not a man in my life, which is refreshing.
I lift my glass and clink with his. “Cheers.”
