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“Excuse me?” She sneers.
I snort. “Please.” I place my palm to my chest and bow my head at her. “Call me Harvey, my Queen.”
Her whole head follows her eyes as they roll from one side to the other and she opens her own door and drops into the backseat. Dooley chuckles and opens the other back door for me. I kind of wanted to sit in the front but I slide on in, glad that the back is big enough for there to be a decent gap between Annika and me. Especially when she crosses the leg closest to me over the other one and the damn slit in her dress falls open, so her pale thigh is on full display. Luckily, she is already staring out of her window so doesn’t notice me gawking at her.
It's a silent journey until we pull up outside a huge hotel, just as it starts to drizzle outside. The French renaissance style architecture looks grand and luxurious, similar but completely different to the modern hotel that Annika owns. Dooley pulls up right outside the front door and jumps out a lot spritelier than I would expect, rounding the car to open the door and hold hishand out to Annika, helping her out. I get out myself and come to stand next to him as Annika pushes on, entering the building.
“Do you know what this thing is?” I ask him.
“It’s a benefit for Her,” Dooley says.
“Her?”
“The charity. It’s helps women who have been trafficked or forced into sex work get out of bad situations and settle into everyday life with additional protection.”
I’ve never heard of it. I nod, but my brows draw in. “They invited the owner of a strip club to a benefit for vulnerable women?”
Dooley looks at me with an incredulous eye, his bushy grey eyebrow raised. “It would be rude not to. She founded the organisation.”
My head snaps to the side to look at him and he just nods.
“You best get in there. Here, take my number and call me when you’re about ready to leave, I’ll be waiting right here.”
I put his number into my phone and rush in after Annika. She’s in the reception foyer, walking with purpose to a long, carpeted hallway with gilded mirrors and expensive artwork hung along the length of the walls. I have to actually jog to catch up with her long strides until I fall in line walking behind her. We walk into a large banqueting hall full of people dressed to the nines and a band playing smooth jazz. There are tables set up with several sets of cutlery per place setting and napkins fanning out of gold napkin rings. Red and gold are everywhere and dotted around the side of the room are posters on stands giving information on the Her Foundation. This is the nicest place I’ve ever been, and I’m very grateful that Annika paid the big bucks for this tux because I at least look like I belong, even if I don’t feel it.
“Miss Wolfe!” A woman in a dark red gown with hundreds of beads all over it comes shuffling on heels over to us. “Ohmy goodness, it’s so lovely to see you here.” She leans in with outstretched arms as though to hug her, but Annika steps back and holds her hand out for a more formal handshake. “Oh.” The woman giggles, taking the offered hand.
“Mrs Wilkes, a pleasure.” Annika’s face and tone does not suggest that it is a pleasure at all.
“Oh please, call me Sissy. I’m so glad you came. Have you changed your mind about giving a speech?” Her face lights up at the prospect.
“No,” Annika’s answer is short and flat.
“Oh.” Sissy blinks, her smile losing some pep. “Well, no worries, it’s still lovely to have you and your,” she looks at me with a slightly interested up and down, “date here.”
Annika does not correct her about my status, just nods once and walks away. I follow, giving the poor woman a polite smile.
“Do you evertryto be congenial?” I ask quietly at her side.
“Why should I?” She shrugs.
“You’ll catch more flies with honey than vinegar.”
“I’m not trying to catch flies. I’m trying to keep them far enough away that they don’t bother me, vinegar is better at that.” She stops at the bar and catches the bartender’s eye immediately. Of course, she does, she looks like seduction personified. “Vodka tonic, lots of ice, a wedge of lemon, not a slice.”
“Yes, ma’am. And for you sir?” He looks at me.
“I’ll have the same, without the vodka,please.” I give Annika a pointed look as I say the last word and she narrows her eyes at me.
Our drinks are handed to us before Annika turns her back to the bar, surveying the room as she sips from her glass. I try not to watch her, but it’s honestly difficult to keep my eyes away from the delicate features of her face and the long, elegant column of her neck. She looks decidedly uncomfortable here,rolling her shoulders and her eyes constantly moving around the room. I’m on the cusp of asking if she’s okay when her gaze catches on something and she pales, freezing with her drink halfway to her mouth.
Following her line of sight, I search the crowd for what has startled her. Through a gap in the groups, a man comes into sight, one who is unfortunately familiar. Grigoriy Volkov, head of the Kukri crime syndicate and a nasty piece of work. He’s a big guy; tall and broad, looks like he could shatter your teeth with one punch. His tattoos are prominent even in the suit he wears, covering the backs of his hands and his neck. He’s smiling as he talks to a group of people who all seem to be lapping up whatever he’s saying with smiles and laughs. His suit is black with a deep red shirt and one of those bolo ties in place of a silk one.
“What the hell is he doing here?” Annika growls.
“He’s not supposed to be?” I stupidly ask. The look she gives me is fire and rage.
“No. He should be nowhere near Talon territory.”
