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“He’s an asshole,” I snapped, although the same visions I’d had before popped into my mind. The terrible day felt like a noose tightening around my neck. The alcohol wasn’t helping my mood or the atrocities slipping past my mouth. I hated that the new client shoved into my lap had unnerved me so much. After reading Ernest’s file, I was convinced the man was guilty. How was I supposed to represent him without seeming tainted by my beliefs?
What upset my stomach the most was the fact Mr. Davidson appeared be to a member of Carnal Sins. That made me extremely uncomfortable.
“Did you hear the rumor?” Margie interjected.
“Do tell,” Jackie mused.
“Lachlan’s father is reported to be a dark prince in his country.”
“What the hell?” Now I was becoming annoyed.
“Tainted royalty.” Margie had a huge grin on her face. It was obvious none of the other girls knew what the hell she was talking about. “Oh, come on. I don’t know if they have organized mafia in Scotland, but if they do then his father is a mafia Don while also being a king tossed from his throne.”
Was it possible that was the truth?
“Where do you get this shit?” Betsy asked, more amused than any of us.
“I pay attention to every news source,” Margie countered. “That’s the only way to get ahead in this city. You have to admit Lachlan is dreamy. He gives off Daddy vibes.”
Oh, my God. Granted, the smidgeon of gray hair at his temples added to his powerful vibe, but I wasn’t into older men. Or assholes.
“Yes, the man is a dangerous jerk.” I was on a roll tonight and there was no excuse for it other than the horrible week I’d experienced. My thoughts drifted briefly to the new case. Did Lachlan know or care about the girl who’d died?
“If you don’t lighten up, I will find a man and tell him you need to be fucked.”
Even over the rumble of what I’d call tribal music, Betsy’s voice managed to draw attention. She was more intoxicated than I’d ever seen her.
We all were. Thank God we had a limo.
“I have been pestered by men all night,” I rebuffed, which was the truth. Of course, it likely had something to do with the cagey, flirtatious answers I’d provided on the ridiculous entrance questionnaire, including using the name Kinky Goddess as a nickname. Every man who’d approached had been looking for an entirely different kind of good time. Why had I been so flippant in my answers?
“The sexy god is still wearing the shirt you dumped coffee on,” Jackie said, laughing as she scooted next to me. “He must remember you fondly.”
“Uh-huh. I doubt that. He’s still wearing it as a badge of honor,” I muttered, casually glancing in the thick of the crowd, maybe in hopes of finding him.What are you doing? You hate the man.My little voice had nagged me since leaving the office, driving me insane with snippets of the ugly fantasy.
“I heard he hates women,” Debbie threw out. “I’ve been here five times and I’ve seen him walk through, wearing his arrogance in the smug look on his face, only talking to those he deems important.”
“You know about the sex club on the floors above us. Right?” Betsy slurred.
I shuddered from the thought. Carnal Sins and a second competing BDSM club were all the rage in DC. Both were private, the members affluent. I’d also heard through chatter in the office that dirty deals went on behind closed doors. Maybe someone should investigate and determine whether any crimes were being committed.
My mind shifted to kinky thoughts, wonderment about what kinds of proclivities were being exploited. Then I thought about Mr. Davidson again and held my breath. Should I believe in coincidences?
“Joining is expensive, more than we could ever afford,” Jackie added.
Margie leaned across the table, a grin on her face. I knew that look. She wanted to get us into trouble. “They do allow guests and I think they do selective tours of the entire illustrious establishment.”
“Even if that’s so, you’d need to warm up Mr. McKenzie and I doubt that’s going to happen. Cold as ice with a black heart.” Debbie laughed then shot me a look. “But since you obviously know him, maybe you could heat up his frosty interior.”
“Very funny. I wouldn’t go near him.” I grabbed the bottle of champagne, pouring a third or maybe fourth glass. I wasn’t planning on counting.
“At least he made good on his promise.” Jackie pointed as a waiter brought another bottle of champagne to the table.
“Kristal. Special reserve,” Betsy squealed.
“Compliments of the house,” the cute waiter said proudly as he gave Debbie more than a single onceover.
Debbie growled under her breath, sliding closer to the guy. While the employees didn’t wear the special eyeglasses, that didn’t stop her from donning hers, attempting to glean everything she could about the handsome man.
