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Sammy’s stone-cold face broke into a wide grin when he saw her approach.
“Lookin’ good, hun.”
Like the Serpents, Sammy had no problem blatantly assessing Lisbeth from head to toe; weirdly enough, she admired their honesty.
She’d met this giant of a man with the shaved head twice when she’d come to survey the venue and get an idea of the club’s layout. Preparation was key when planning any event, and eliminating surprises usually confirmed a successful event.
She smiled at him as he held the door for her to enter. Like the first time she’d come to Ecstasy, she marveled at the fresh-scented air wafting through the club. Lisbeth had expected stale cigarette smoke, sweat, and other unpleasant odors, but Ecstasy had an upscale feel with its leather banquets, shiny brass railings, and a large granite-topped bar spanning one wall. Even the waitstaff dressed like Victoria's Secret models. No sleazy outfits or cutout nipples here.
She let her eyes adjust to the dim lighting as she searched for Willow, who’d come earlier to ensure the entertainment had arrived and had already checked in with glowing reports. The Serpents were happy with their road captain’s thirty-fifth birthday bash. Dealing with Madeline gave her a crash course into biker life and their blunt honesty, which she found intriguing. They may have been outlaws, but their dedication to their club and each other was admirable.
The music’s pounding bass filled Lisbeth’s ears and radiated through her chest as she scanned the packed room. Men in leather vests with different insignias lined the stage, while women wearing ones that matched stood in clusters talking and laughing. Madeline had given her a total count a week ago, and from the looks of it, everyone showed up for Rattler’s party.
She stepped further into the room, and her eyes landed on the main bar—with Samson perched at the end and staring directly at her. The LED light show projected around the room made it impossible to focus on one person for too long as the intensity of his gaze sliced through her. Samson’s being here wasn’t a total surprise, but the erratic beat of her heart unnerved her. They were at least fifty feet apart, surrounded by hordes of people, yet he zoned in on her like a heat-seeking missile. Lisbeth reminded herself she was here on the job, and she never let anything get in the way of pulling off a fantastic event.
“You’re a fuckin’ genius,” Madeline shouted over the music as she slung her arm over Lisbeth’s shoulders. “You managed to give the guys what they wanted and the old ladies what they didn’t know they wanted.”
A Hollywood celebrity look-alike party with female strippers dressed as Jennifer Lopez, Selena Gomez, Megan Fox, and other starlets, plus male strippers resembling Chris Hemsworth, Vin Diesel, Jason Momoa, and Denzel. Something for both men and women.
“You have to know your audience.” Lisbeth waggled her eyebrows.
“Hell yeah!” Madeline fist-pumped over her head. “I knew I liked you the first time I saw you.”
“The art of throwing a good party is making everyone happy, not just a select few.”
Madeline jerked her head to Rattler at the edge of the stage, rooting on a Zendaya look-alike while his woman, Serafina, jammed cash in her g-string.
“Well, you’ve done that and more. From now on, you have all our business.” Madeline steered her toward the back of the club. “Let’s get you paid up.”
They passed the main bar, and Samson’s smoldering eyes bore into her again. Lisbeth had herself so wound up about seeing him again she was probably projecting.
“Shit, if Samson’s not careful, he’s gonna burn a hole in the back of your blouse.”
“Excuse me?” So it wasn’t her imagination.
“Girl, don’t play with me. Your whole body stiffened when you walked past him.” Madeline threw her a you-can’t-fool-me look. “I just don’t know why you’re avoiding the inevitable.”
“Because it’s not inevitable, it's avoidable, it’s prohibitive, and it’s out of the question.”
“Sure, hun, you keep telling yourself that.” Madeline pushed open the office door. “Hey, babe, we gotta pay this pretty lady.” She addressed Boa, sitting behind the desk, a large computer monitor in front of him with four more huge monitors on the walls behind him.
Madeline flung her arm around the room. “My tech genius has his eye on everything.”
Boa turned toward a large safe behind his desk, punched in a code, opened the metal door, and retrieved a stack of hundreds bundled together in a rubber band. He slapped the wad on his desk and nodded to Lisbeth. “Party is a huge success. I don’t know how you did it, but you managed to satisfy the brothers without pissing off the old ladies.”
“Thank you. I’m glad you’re pleased, but you don’t have to pay tonight. I’ll bill you during the week for the remainder of your invoice. I take all credit cards, Venmo, or PayPal.”
“Nah, not going to work.” He nudged the pile of bills toward her.
Lisbeth stepped to the desk and picked up the thick bundle of money.
“It’s all there, plus a little extra for doing such a great job.”
“Again, thank you, but . . .”
Boa turned his attention back to the monitor in front of him, and Madeline nodded in his direction. “When he’s here, he’s got a lot on his mind.”
When Boa shoved the rubber-banded hundreds at her, she thought he was kidding, but no. He’d paid for Rattler’s party entirely in cash. Lisbeth left the office with a lot more cash than she normally carried around—surprising and nerve-wracking to have this much money in her possession.
