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THE EMBROIDERED NARROW straps of her red dress descended into a plunge that revealed her cleavage. It was just lucky she had a thing for buying dresses. Both her work and family lives required her to attend a bunch of functions, giving her plenty of excuses to splurge.
Haste. Yes, Daly wanted her to be quick. Still, things took as long as they took. More than an hour passed while she cooked, showered, and prettied herself for Stag. Her routine was the same as always… wasn’t it? Okay, so she lingered over hair and makeup, and even did her nails. Either she cared about impressing Ire or was delaying the inevitable.
Both were probably true.
By the time the car pulled up to Stag, necessity drove her on. She got out with purpose in her step. How often was that purpose played through to the end? Never. Each time, Ire pulled the rug out from under her, and she ended up flat on her back. Literally. Being around him got her dizzy. Getting close… too close…
It wouldn’t happen again. She’d have a drink, screw her head on straight, and complete her objective.
Guards at the foot of the stairs to the office moved aside, but her trajectory remained the same. Going straight past them, she strode on into the club. Something about the music grounded her. As always, the club delivered. Oblivion. Anonymity. Safe harbor.
Everyone needed to forget their lives sometimes. Forget who they were and everything going on around them. How could her life have become such a hot mess?
She ordered a drink and sat at the bar, pretending nothing was different. Like she could just sit there, protected by the surrounding shell, the illusion of safety.
“Let me get that for you.”
Fuck. A guy. A random guy. It never failed.
Her shoulders dropped as she exhaled. “No, thank you.”
The guy, whoever he was, it didn’t matter, sidled up close. Too close for a woman who wanted to be alone.
“Back up there, buddy.”
Daly. He must’ve followed her because there he was, right behind her.
“Just talking to the lady.”
“Yeah, you don’t want to do that.” Daly’s arm came down on the bar between her and the guy she hadn’t even looked at. “Back up.”
“Who are you?” the guy asked. “She your girlfriend?”
Daly’s head turned her way to murmur. “You don’t want to do this, Sersha.” The warning came in his words and his serious gaze. “They call him Ire for a reason.”
“Hey, dude…” the guy said.
The bartender came over with her drink. “Daly, there a problem?”
Daly’s eyes stayed on hers. “No problem, Biggs. Right, Sersha? Tell Biggs there’s no problem.”
Drawing in a breath, she picked up her drink. “No. No problem.”
Her leash was short.
As she slipped off the stool, Daly’s protective arm closed around her waist, guiding her through the tables, toward the exit again. But there was no reprieve. The security guys stepped out of the way to let them ascend the stairs toward the office.
“Playing with him isn’t like playing with other guys,” Daly hissed.
“I wasn’t playing with anyone,” she said. “Can’t a girl just want a drink?”
“There’s a fully stocked bar upstairs,” he said, stopping at the top, holding the door handle. “You want a bartender up there? Just say the word.” Their eyes met again. “But you cannot be around other guys like that. Women don’t leave McDades. And you sure don’t screw around on Ire McDade.”
“Because Ire has a rep to protect?”
“Not for his sake.”
