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A McDade was missing. A McDade woman… and they were rare.
Connel’s cousin. Did he know her? Remember her? She’d been gone a long time. Maybe they’d never met. Maybe she was long dead. And that was the mystery. What happened to Dorsey McDade?
She got into the deli, ordered, and sat at a table, all the while texting. Her brother. Strat. Steeple.
“Which one is it?”
The male voice drew her attention up, but the speaker was already sinking into the perpendicular chair.
“Evander,” she said, every muscle tensing.
“You get my flowers?” he asked, sliding a hand over hers. “Your games make my mouth water.”
Why was he smiling?
Shit, that never led to anything good. “I’m not playing games.” She retreated from his touch. “How many times, Evander?”
“I love this play,” he said, picking up her hand. “Spending all night at McDade’s club…? For a second, I thought it was him and you’d lost your mind. I’d do it for you, I’d fight that war for my princess, but talk about going nuclear.”
“I’m not your princess,” she said, dragging her hand from his again. “We’ve talked about this. This is not a game.”
“It’s gotta be one of his guys,” he said like she hadn’t spoken at all. “His guys… you want me to take them out one by one ‘til I hit the one you fucked last night? How much blood you want spilled…?”
His palm skimmed her arm; disgust prickled beneath it.
“Evander,” she said, pacing a slow breath. “I don’t want any blood spilled. What I was doing last night is none of your business. Are your people still following me?”
There was no other way he could know she’d spent the night at Stag.
“They expected you to come out. Every night you do… until last night. I think McDade is beneath you, beneath us, but his people… that’s the princess and the pauper. You shouldn’t degrade yourself like that. Have they got something on you? Why would you be with his guys?”
“I’m not. I wouldn’t be.”
“McDade left with a blonde and a redhead after two,” he said. Lucky women. “He know you were in there fucking his guys?”
Keeping her face still, an odd curl of jealousy grew barbs in her belly. “Stop this. It isn’t healthy for either of us.”
“Sometimes it’s like a sickness,” he said, his hand reaching the side of her neck. “Wanting each other like we do.”
“You can’t keep doing this,” she said. “Showing up like this. Someone will get hurt.” Thank God she hadn’t asked Daly to join her or there would’ve been carnage. The deli people didn’t deserve that. “Did you come in the front?”
If Daly saw…
“I know what you want,” he said, dragging his chair closer, prompting her to look away. Why did he have to get so close? Sickness churned in her gut. When his lips touched her shoulder, she recoiled and whipped around, ready to lash out. But she couldn’t. With a guy like Evander, there was a careful line to tread. “You want to keep it secret? Fuck with him behind his back?”
No, she really didn’t, but this guy never heard her. “Evander—”
“This weekend, it’s time to do this,” he said, “tomorrow night, Platinum Suite.”
“What?”
He stood and bent over to kiss her hair. “Midnight.”
Retreating toward the back of the deli, he disappeared through an employee door.
Midnight. Friday. He wasn’t suggesting… Except there, on the table by her coffee, was a key card bearing the Grand Hotel’s logo.
Shit.
