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“I am, huh?” The corner of his mouth kicked a little higher. “Do tell…”
I pushed up on my toes and he dipped his head so I could press my lips right to his ear. “You don’t like telling me no.”
He scoffed, a full-on choking laugh and a shake of his head.
“And,” I continued, grinning. “The fastest way to get me naked is to just give in because you know I don’t give up.”
“That’s the damn truth.” Still, he was laughing. I loved that he could. He still wore the scars of a lifetime of disappointments and other cruelties. He didn’t laugh nearly enough nor smile as much as I wanted to make it possible for him. “I’ll make you a deal…”
“This should be good,” I teased. “I’m listening.”
He slapped my ass once. The sting was more warmth transmitted through my clothes than any real pain, but it definitely didn’t make me smile any less. “You are asking for it.”
“And you’re looking forward to giving it to me. So stop your bitching and tell me what your deal is.”
Honestly, his sigh this time could be equal parts amusement and aggravation.
“You don’t leave my sight,” he said, ticking off his points. “If I decide we need to withdraw, we go, no arguments” Neither were unreasonable. “And absolutelyno onesings me happy birthday.”
Surprise flashed through me and a giggle escaped. Of course, now that he brought it up, I kind of wished I’d planned it that way. Still… “I can agree to those terms, Pretty Boy.”
His eyes narrowed.
I huffed. “Now what?”
“You did that way too easily.”
“Did I?” I tilted my head. “Hmm… I wonder why that could be. Can we go now?”
“You are trouble,” he confessed, letting me go but taking my hand when I caught his.
“Yes,” I told him as I led him out of the bathroom. “And you love it.”
“I love something,” he muttered, but when I shot him a look, he simply grinned.
Forty-five minutes later, Wood delivered us to the front of Cabaret Royale. It was the perfect underground speakeasy located in Brooklyn. The front door didn’t look like much, the red canopy being the only clue to the luxurious debauchery and intrigue waiting just inside. The name wasn’t advertised, and there were no flashing lights, only a doorman and a password you had to know to get in. French speakeasies were timeless, and this one was my favorite.
Wood and Karagiani were the only two I informed of our destination—Wood so he could handle transportation and Karagiani so he could do his security checks. He’d signed off on it, which was good, seeing as I didn’t want to argue with him. But I would have, and I would have won.
“Good evening,” the doorman said at our approach. “What can I do for you two this evening?” Then his gaze flicked to Karagiani. “Three.”
“We’d like a majestic table, please.”
He grinned, doffing his hat. “Then you’ve come to the right place.” With that, he turned and opened the door. Milo gave me a look as I nodded back to the doorman before leading my pretty boy inside. Excitement flushed through me as I followed the long, dark hall to the other end. Karagiani was behind us and I was in the front. Another doorman waited for us around the corner.
“Welcome to the Cabaret Royale,” he said by way of greeting before throwing up the inner door to let us inside the red velvet room with its myriad of tables, 18th-century decorations, and the classic stage that occupied the center.
“Cabaret—it’s a burlesque show,” Milo said suddenly, genuine delight curving through the words and I had to fight the impulsive and juvenile urge to jump up and down and clap my hands. I’d surprised him. It was exactly what I’d wanted to do. Surprise and delight him. “I’m gonna kill Jasper,” he muttered, even as the smile on his lips decried any such threat.
“Good evening,” a woman in a festive saloon dress and glittered boobs welcomed us. While she wasn’t topless, she didn’t have anything all that hidden.
“Benedict,” I told her. “Table for two with a companion table.”
“Right this way…”
We followed her through the maze of tables. The layout allowed for privacy and display. The bar itself was crowded and most of the tables seemed full. I’d reserved a private table for us, this one up one level and set up like a theater box. We could observe and enjoy without being observed.
Karagiani checked the curtained-off area before he stepped out and nodded. “I’ll be down here.” There was another table set up where he could observe our curtains and still get to see the show. I gave him a little wave and then the hostess left us with the promise that our waitress would be with us in a moment.
