She hesitates, not expecting my diversion. “Sure,” she says, but I can tell by the look in her eyes that I am not off the hook just yet.
I begin to make our drinks when I feel her right behind me. “You didn’t answer my question. Where do you go off to?” she asks again, this time cornering me, both literally and figuratively. Her warm vanilla scent permeates my nostrils as I finish pouring the vodka into her glass.
“If you’re referring to me taking that phone call before, I do run multiple businesses, which I am neglecting at this moment to have you here,” I internally cringe at my response to her. It is not her fault I can’t fucking concentrate for shit when she is around. It’s also not her fault that we are here tonight, of all nights, but it’s safer for the both of us to be away from whatever Armando may or may not be up to.
I can tell she is not satisfied with my answer as she lets out an adorably frustrated sigh. She isn’t going to let this go, then again, how could I blame her? I’ve simultaneously given her everything she could ask for and nothing she can tangibly grasp, or understand, for that matter.
“No,” she starts, again. “I mean, where do you go when you drift off like you were just doing before? You have this intense, almost hypnotized look on your face. As if you are recalling something painful, yet you seem to take pleasure in the act of reminiscing.”
“I’m a busy man, Ms. Ricci, I work late nights and rise early, and I zone out occasionally. I wouldn’t read into it.” She isn’t buying it, once something is on Sienna’s radar, that’s it. A trait I admire, except for when I am trying to avoid her questions.
Before she can ask me another thing, I interrupt her thought process to help ease her off my trail. “It’s just a busy night, with it being the gala and all.”
Hoping that would help shift the conversation, I am surprised to see the look of utter annoyance on her face as she dives into her next line of questioning. “So, why are we here if it’s so pertinent to have you attend the gala?”
“Truthfully, I didn’t feel like it, it’s terribly dull having to talk it up and schmooze with people I don’t give a fuck about,” I lie. I’m not about to tell her that our attendance there has the potential to be disastrous given what Alex has briefed me on.
Gala night has always been smoke and mirrors. Make appearances, mingle a little, while the bread and butter of our business works its way into the underbelly of the building. I made sure to be an integral part of the design process of the building. It was important to have escape routes, hidden doors, that kind of thing, so that our operation can run smoothly.
“If I’m being honest, I’m relieved you didn’t have me attend the gala. Social situations like that are not my jam.”
“Interesting you say that, because when I was on the phone earlier with my cousin, Alex, he said a woman named, Lana, I believe it was, was asking about you.”
I study her face, waiting for a reaction. She stays surprisingly stoic, a constant surprise this one.
“I have a Titi Lana, but I doubt she would be at the gala, unless she has a new guy I don’t know about who invited her.”
“Could be, Alex didn’t say,” I answer as I take a gulp of my whiskey.
“Alex?” she thinks for a second, trailing off her words. “That is the guy from The Sandy Claws that works with Vanessa, right?”
Yes, Vanessa, don’t remind me.
Duringour brief phone conversation, Alex updated me on a conversation he had with Vanessa earlier. Apparently, my father felt it important to disclose the possibility of shady dealings happening at the gala tonight. He said gala night has been notoriously plagued with tragedy and he feared tonight would be no different. Rich, coming from him since the majority of said tragic events on or around gala night happened because of him.
“Yes, he is my cousin,” I answer her question, hoping that will be enough to exit this topic. “Interesting, didn’t know you had family in law enforcement,” she says, sounding surprised.
“Well, I guess we shouldn’t do anything illegal, wouldn’t want to get locked up,” I joke.
Sienna looks at the clock on the mantel. “It’s getting late,” she says slowly, as if she is carefully choosing every syllable that comes out of her mouth. “I’m sure you’ll want to make at least a quick appearance at the gala.”
“I don’t need to be there if I don’t want to, it’s the perk of being in charge.” I grin mischievously.
Summoning her here under the guise of “working” for me was a mistake, because the lack of legitimate work I have for her will only fuel her suspicions more. And with making such a big to-do about it being gala night, and here we are not at the gala, her suspicions are going to grow until she forces me to surrender to her questions.
If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have her work another day in her life. Not because I’m some misogynistic asshole. That’s my father’s title, not mine. I would rather have her spending her days fueling her passions and sharing her endless talents that this world is in desperate need of.
She takes the last sip of her drink and slowly walks it over to the bar cart. I can’t help but stare at the way her ass jiggles slightly with each step she takes. Arousal rushes over me once more as I yank on the chain around my neck, as if that can relieve me of the desire trying to reemerge.
I was so busy trying to deflect our conversation that I forgot how naughty a certain someone was being. I almost forgot what she tried to do when I caught her snooping around.Almost.
Moving away from the bar cart, she makes her way back to the bistro table as she sits down. She begins to fumble her hands inside her bag, looking as if she is ready to leave.
“Where do you think you are going?” I ask in a devious tone.
She runs her hand through her thick onyx hair “I don’t know, you tell me,” she says with a sarcastic, lust-filled look in her smoky eyes.
“Sienna,” I begin. “You wanted to unlock the box, but how about something else, instead?”
