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A deep voice drags my attention from Granger, my eyes lifting to meet with Harrison’s. He’s only bartended for a few months here, but in that time he’s become a customer favorite.
It’s not hard to figure out why, though. The man stands at six-foot-four, and although his body is more lean than muscular, he more than makes up for it with dark, piercing eyes and hair so blond it’s white.
Harrison has an ethereal look to him that blends well with the club.
“Just a coke. I’m not staying long tonight.”
He turns to grab the soda before spinning back to face me.
“You’re not giving Ames a ride home?”
“She told me she has it covered,” I say, practically shouting to be heard over the music.
Nodding, Harrison sets the drink in front of me, waving at me when I reach to grab my wallet.
“On the house. You brought Granger’s favorite dancer in. Now he’ll stop being such a dick. Consider it a thank you.”
When he winks, I smile and turn to go sit with Amy and the rest of them for a little over an hour. My eyes scan the dancers in the center of the club while I only half listen to the conversation at the table.
My thoughts keep drifting back to that party at the governor’s mansion, mostly angry ones about the jerk who spilled his drink on me.
He was a beautiful man, which only made his piss-poor attitude more of a shame. But then to see him practically eye fucking the woman he was talking to just made it worse.
I’m not even sure why it pissed me off.
More than likely, she was his girlfriend, and he had every right to cage her against the stairs like he did.
But something wasn’t right. Especially when his eyes locked to me and slid to Ames.
No man should be looking at a woman like that if he has a girlfriend.
Which makes him a ladies’ man. The exact type I can’t stand.
More than hating him, though, I’m worried about Everly. It’s not unusual for her to be out of touch with me, but it’s rare for her not to be in touch with her brother, Scott.
Last I heard from her, she didn’t sound right. If anything, she was worried. Or scared. There was a breathless quality to her voice. Quickly snapped words, as if she was running from something even while talking to me.
Everly was never like that.
A lot like Ames, she was always slightly wild and carefree.
The inside of my cheek is raw from chewing it. So when Amy’s elbow nudges me and I turn to see everyone at the table watching me, I give them a fake smile and make an excuse to leave.
Shouting to be heard over the music, I explain, “I told Ames I’d meet her upstairs for a drink. I should go do that before heading home.”
I get several pouty faces for that but smile regardless as I get up to wind my way through the packed club.
The staircase leading up to the second floor is fashioned to appear old, the handrails a dark wrought iron and the steps a cherry oak that are polished to shine despite the obvious dents and marks on the edges.
It’s a subtle promise and warning that what’s above your head is both high class and as old as it comes, luxury within the more carnal desires of the flesh and mind.
The music changes as you reach the top, a darker beat taking over that traps the mind and pulls your attention to the multiple stages and cages where the dancers lure you back to the hallways leading to different rooms.
I’ve never been past the main room, even though Ames has dared me to explore. But it’s hard to trust new places and the unknown when you’ve lived a life of warnings.
We’re always being watched.
Everything you say will be heard.
