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“Can you send me that link?” I ask. “I’ll talk to our contractor and see if it’s even possible.”
“Really?” she squeals.
“Yeah.” Why does she seem so shocked? “If we’re doing it, I want it to be safe.” I glance at the screen again. “What are their names?”
“Pepper and Porsche,” she answers.
I roll my eyes. “Stage or street names?”
“I’ve never asked.” Her eyes shift to the screen again. “Even if they don’t work out for the club, I think other girls can make use of a ring like that. Stacia has a gymnastics background. I could see her using it for tricks.”
I’m not worried about who uses it or how often. That’s for the girls to work out on their own. “When I get something scheduled with the contractor, I’ll want the three of you at the appointment so I can get your input, okay?”
“Sure. Absolutely. I’ll tell them if they want it, they have to be here.”
“Are they still going to dance?” I ask. “Can they make their duo thing work without that rigging?”
“Oh yeah. They just mentioned it and showed me the video.” She retreats to the chair on the other side of my desk. “It seemed like a unique idea, so I thought I’d bring it to you.”
“It’s good. I’m glad you did.”
Her face flushes with happiness. “Thanks, Dex.” She crosses her legs and clasps her hands over one knee. I thought we were done but she seems to be settling in for a longer conversation. “So, Emily seemed nice. I mean, I only talked to her for a few minutes. She seemed a little overwhelmed with everything at the clubhouse.”
Unease prickles over my skin. Swan didn’t say overwhelmed in a catty way. But I still don’t like it. She and I maintain a friendly relationship but not the kind where I want to discuss my relationships with her. Especially when things are rocky with Emily right now. Besides, last I knew, Swan was in some sort of situation-ship with Teller’s brother-in-law and you don’t see me asking about it.
“I didn’t realize you two talked,” I say, ignoring her comment.
Her eyes widen. “I…I didn’t say anything…about us. I wouldn’t do that.”
Fuck. I’ll eventually have to mention that to Emily. Otherwise, she’ll find out on her own—LOKI gossip seems to come around and bite you in the ass at the worst time. I don’t ever want Emily to feel blindsided.
“I know you wouldn’t.” I stare her straight in the eyes, making it clear she better not.
“All you guys are settling down.” She lets out a bit of nervous laughter.
I shrug.
“Everyone seems happy,” she hurries to add. “It’s good. It’s good.”
“Glad you approve.” The heavy dose of sarcasm isn’t lost on her. She drops her gaze to the floor.
The weight of our past relationship seems to linger between us. I search for an escape, a way to end the conversation and get Swan the hell out of my office without hurting her feelings.
Finally, she offers a bittersweet smile and stands. “I am glad you’re happy.”
I open my mouth to answer, but she spins away and hurries out of the room.
And I can’t help thinking that happiness always comes at a cost.
CHAPTER FOUR
Emily
My brain hurts. Trinity’s presence is comforting. At least I don’t feel so alone. We talk quietly about our jobs. She owns her own photography studio and designs book covers. After showing me a few she’s particularly proud of—some I’ve actually read—I hand her phone back to her.
“So, you photograph hot, half-naked guys all day and Wrath’s okay with that?” I ask, honestly kind of shocked.
She ducks her head and laughs softly. “Well, my studio is right next door to his gym, so he doesn’t let me photograph anyone he doesn’t know—and hasn’t previously terrorized—alone.”
“But—”
“Have you met my husband? He has a massive ego to go along with his massive…everything else.” Her lips tip into an affectionate smile. “He’s not worried about who’s in front of my lens.” She flicks her gaze to the ceiling. “Besides, you should see the way women flock to him at the gym. We either trust each other or we don’t, you know?”
“But you said he terrorizes your models,” I point out.
“As a safety issue, not a jealousy thing,” she clarifies. “The toothpick housewives at his gym aren’t going to do much damage to him.”
“Ahh, gotcha.” My mind churns, comparing Dex working at the strip club to Trinity’s photography studio. Vastly different in my opinion. One caters to sleazy men’s degrading fantasies and the other is more of an art form. But what she said about trust struck me. “Has it ever bothered you that the club owns Crystal Ball?” I ask.
She turns and stares at me. She knows about the strip club, right? “I’ve never thought about it that much. Kind of like how I don’t think much about the sky being blue, it just is, you know?”
