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"It's Friday night and that means all hands on deck. I'm running behind. I won't have time to come back up here and go through my usual routine to get my head in the right space to deal with a noisy, crowded club."
She doesn't like the noise and the crowds? Why the hell does she own a nightclub then?
I don't ask because I can see that she means it. Lucia needs some time to find her Zen. She's stressed and it's not all because of a busy night at the club.
My decision to get her pregnant has her discombobulated. But she's not trying to kick me out of her apartment. Hell, she's not even kicking me out of the bedroom as long as I keep my mouth zipped.
That's pretty damn telling, even if she doesn't want to see it.
Her instincts tell her she belongs to me, but her brain is fighting it.
Chapter 11
LUCIA
Atlas helps me with my preparation and I'm grateful for two reasons. One, I'm running behind and two, his presence stops Willow from grilling me.
She doesn't even try to pretend she isn't watching us though. Every time Atlas touches me, her perfectly shaped eyebrows waggle at me and she makes a ridiculous expression of exaggerated approval.
And he touches me a lot. A hand on my shoulder. A caress over my hip as he walks by. Brushing my fingers with his when he's taking a box of inventory from me on my way to the bar. He's really got a thing about me not carting heavy boxes around.
It could be annoying, but it's not. It's sweet.
It's too much to expect Willow to keep speculation about Atlas to herself. But I don't expect my servers and bartenders to show up armed with curiosity born of knowledge.
She texted them.
My stomach knots. They all know that I took him upstairs last night. That he's still here is proof positive that my ovaries are in charge and not my brain.
The DJ arrives and my worries get tabled out of necessity. Although Chaos is a favorite with the patrons, he is not on the regular rotation. A bit of a prima donna, the DJ expects my undivided attention while he sets up. Tonight is no exception.
"Get your shit together," Atlas growls at the DJ. "Lucia has more important things to do than hold your hand."
Chaos looks Atlas up and down with a sneer. "Who are you?"
"I am Atlas Rokos. I'm in business with Constantin Petros. Change your fucking tone or this is the last gig you play on the West Coast."
Dio mio. I'm going to lose my DJ. On a Friday night.
But Chaos doesn't pick up his toys and go. He stares at Atlas like he's seeing a ghost. "TheConstantin Petros, the nightclub owner?"
Atlas jerks his head in a nod, his jaw like granite.
Chaos puts his hands up. "Sorry, man. I didn't mean to monopolize Lucia's time. You sticking around tonight?"
"Yes." It sounds like a threat to me.
But the DJ grins. "Great! Maybe you can put a word in for me with Leon."
Who is Leon?
"Impress me and I will." His hand at the small of my back, Atlas turns me and leads me away.
"Who is Leon?" I ask out loud this time.
"He books the DJs for my family's clubs."
"Family!" Chaos exclaims behind us. "You're part of the Petros empire?"
