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Her fingers scratch at my hand still wrapped around her neck, acrylic nails cutting into my skin. “God, was the bouncer at the door pawing through my belongings not enough for the night?”
Relaxing my hold, I take a long step backward. “What are you talking about?”
Curling her hand around mine, she yanks me off her, rubbing at the flushed skin. “I’m like half your size, did you really have to be so fucking rough?” Inhaling slowly, she presses on, answering me. “My I.D., right? I had trouble getting in tonight, something about it not wanting to scan, but I swear, it’s legit. I’ve never had that happen before.”
Digging her hands into the front of her top, a strapless tube made out of silk, she pulls out crumpled cash and a worn driver’s license. Handing it over, my eyes narrow as I scan the name. “Caroline Harrison, huh? The senator’s daughter?”
Either she’s drunk or stupid because she just purses her lips and shrugs. “That’s me.”
“Twenty-three-years-old, five-feet-three-inches.” I glance down at her, studying her frame. She could pass for Caroline if you’d only ever seen my wife from the neck up. Juliet’s curves are no match for her sister’s.
Her chin tilts up, a fire sparking beneath her baby blues. A definite indication that she’s a Harrison. “Yep.” Lips popping on thep, a fight brewing in her bones. I can tell from the offensive stance she takes, hip jutted, arms akimbo. She really thinks she has a chance against a fuckingmafioso. “Look, I know my rights. You can’t just keep me in here.”
“I suppose not.” Dropping her license into my jacket pocket, I turn and walk around to the other side of my desk. Settling into the leather chair, I fold my hands together on top of the wood. “Tell me,Caroline, what does your husband think of you dropping by his club unannounced?”
Her elbows slacken, gaze darting toward the floor. Clearing her throat, she brings her eyes back to mine, unyielding in her effort to maintain this charade.
Young, indeed.
“He’s totally fine with it. I mean, jeez, this place is guarded, right? I’m probably safer here than anywhere else in the world.”
“Safe isn’t the exact word I’d use.” Pushing back from the desk, I cross one leg over the other, hooking my ankle over my knee. “Especially considering I asked my wife not to come here, under any circumstances.”
Juliet’s face pales, her leg snapping back beside the other. A small, victorious smile splays at the corner of my lips, but I bite down on my tongue to keep it in check.
“Elia.”
“I’m a little offended you seem to have no idea what your brother-in-law looks like.”
She shakes her head; the movement rattles her whole body. Reaching up, she digs the heels of her hands into her eye sockets, scrubbing with an intensity I can almost feel across the room. When she lets her hands fall to her sides, she breathes out a soft laugh. “Jesus. I know what you look like. At least, I thought I did. But I only saw your profile in the courthouse, and I’m also very tipsy.”
“And underage, I’m guessing.”
“Guessing?” Her mouth twists, the bright pink lipstick painted on her face rubbing off with each move. “You’re married to my sister, but don’t know how old I am? Now, who should be offended?”
Holding my hands up, palms-out, I nod once, relenting. “Fair enough. That doesn’t change the fact that you’ve illegally gained access to an exclusive club with a strict twenty-one and up policy. Using my wife’s name, no less.”
She snorts. “I think, on the scale of illegal activity going on at Crimson, a fake I.D. should be the least of your worries.”
“That’s my decision, isn’t it? As club owner?”
A shrug.
Carding a hand through my hair, I exhale slowly, the slight buzz that convinced me she was my wife caused by the moonshine beginning to wear off. “How do you think your sister would feel if she knew you were here, right now?”
“Please. I’ve been using Caroline’s name and face my whole life. It’s the only way I ever got anyone to look twice at me.”
I shift, uncomfortable with the emotion in her voice. Drunk girls are prone to tears, right? Maybe I should text Gia and ask him to bring me a box of tissues. “Surely, that’s not true.”
“Would you have given me a second glance if you didn’t think I was her?”
Interesting.Though Caroline doesn’t talk much about her family at all, I suppose I’ve assumed she and her sister would be close, especially considering her presence at our ceremony.
And yet, it seems as though there’s a hidden animosity here.
“Probably not, but that’s because I seem to only have eyes for your sister.” This last part comes out a little begrudgingly, and I rake my hand through my hair to offset the tone. Make it sound nonchalant, like I want feelings for my wife. I make a sweeping gesture toward one of the wingback chairs in front of me, and she obliges, an air of caution about her. “Why don’t you have a seat?”
Maybe she isn’t as stupid as she looks. She crosses her arms over her chest, obeying me; pulling down the hem of her miniskirt, she sits, staring holes into the wood of my desk.
