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Ian signed, taking another swig of his drink. “Dear Lord, Liam, are you just trying to provoke your dad?”
Tommy and Justin fell silent, the deep bass throbbing through all of our legs as I ducked my head then raised a single playful brow Ian’s way. “No, of course not. I’m trying to provoke her.”
“Well it worked.” The voice to our side made every one of us leap from our seats, flinching away from the woman tableside. Dressed in a sequined black dress that left very little to my imagination, a dark-eyed, ruby-lipped Ashlyn Grove stood beside our table.
Popping a hip, she planted one fist there and glared at me. “Nice to hear you read the rules, Mr. Macklen. Even better to see you haven’t taken a single one of them to heart.”
I rose from my seat, slipping from the booth to stand in front of her. I looked down on her purposefully, thinking she would back off or at least take a step back. If anything, she doubled-down, planting her high-heeled feet wide and returning my glare with one of her very own. My temper flared, low and deep.
“What are you doing here? How did you…”
“How did I find out you were out at a club? It’s pretty simple, Mr. Macklen. Your Instagram is quite telling.”
I snarled. “I only got here a few minutes ago. How does that even happen?”
Her lips curled, making my stomach clench in something very different from anger. “What can I say? I work fast and walk even faster.”
She lived around here? This wasn’t the best neighborhood for a single woman. I shoved the terrifying idea of her walking here in this outfit out of my mind and tilted my head toward the men behind me.
“Justin, Tommy, Ian. This is Ashlyn Grove, my new”—I hesitated, a smirk making my jaw ache—“my new babysitter.”
Ian grinned, dimples shining true, but both Justin and Tommy stared with slack jaws. I barely resisted the urge to step between them as their stunned gazes swept over the blonde’s curves. Ashlyn tossed her head then leaned in, offering her hand as if this were a boardroom instead of a room filled with half-naked, mostly drunk natives writhing under flashing lights.
They each shook it, reintroducing themselves.
“Lovely to meet all of you. Now, I’m sorry to have ruined your night, but until I have a plan for Mr. Macklen’s image, I’ve got to ask him to leave.”
Was she kidding? She had to be kidding. “I’m not going anywhere. I own this place.”
She blinked up at me slowly, as if exhausted by my very presence. The feeling was definitely mutual. “Yes, you do. Congrats on such a fine establishment.” The men behind me chortled as she landed the line. “If you had bothered to call me, I would’ve warned you that it means every photographer, social media influencer, and random dancer here has a front-line view of you and anything potentially stupid you might do tonight. That’s a risk neither of us can take right now.”
I couldn’t stop the bristle. “I’m not getting thrown out of my own club. Least of all by you.”
“Well, I’m not leaving you here.”
“Then you better get comfortable, Miss Grove, because no matter what my father told you, I do what I like. I refuse to ask your permission. And tonight I want to be here.” I lifted my glass, feigning indifference as she sputtered up at me.
“Great plan. What’s on your agenda, then? Were you going to just whore your way through the audience? Is that before or after the next round of shots?”
“Both,” I growled.
Her fair cheeks flushed pink with something akin to embarrassment. Ian shifted beside me, clearly uncomfortable.
“Perfect. You can do whatever you’d like. But I’m not leaving.” Ashlyn folded those ridiculously long, curved legs and dropped onto the edge of the booth beside Ian, eagerly waving at Sasha.
“Hi there. Can you get us five… no four…?” Ashlyn looked around at the stunned men around her. They kept looking at me like I knew what to do with her. I had no fucking idea. “Four shots, I think?”
I flicked my hand at the waitress, my blood boiling. “Sasha, ignore her. She’s about to be leaving.”
“Sasha, you’re your own person,” Ashlyn held up a credit card, flipping it across her fingers until the metallic edges drew Sasha’s eyes again, “Please bring me my drinks.”
Sasha glanced at me, back at Ashlyn, and then wordlessly drifted away. I smirked. She worked for me, and she knew it.
“Now, what are we talking about?” Ashlyn picked up Tommy’s half-empty beer and sipped at it casually, leaving the slightest trace of lipstick on the edge when she returned it to the table. No one spoke. Ian, Tommy, and Justin all stared between the two of us.
I almost smiled. I knew what this was. She was punishing me, again acting like some kind of overpaid nanny. Well, I too could play this game. I slid into the booth next to her, encroaching purposefully into her personal space and watching as her sharp blue eyes darkened and focused on me.
“We were calling dibs on who gets to take home the brunette over there who has been eye-fucking us since we got here.”
