I stared at Arash, who was watching me. He leaned forward, setting his elbows on his knees.

I didn’t know how to refuse, but I couldn’t agree. The only person who’d ever spent the night with me was Eva, and obviously, that hadn’t turned out well.

“Never mind,” she said. “Forget it.”

“No, wait.” Damn it. “Eva and I have plans with friends tonight, that’s all. I’ll need some time to change them.”

“Oh, gotcha.” Her voice softened. “I don’t want to fuck up your plans. I’ve got some friends I can call. Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m worried about you. Eva and I can make some adjustments; it’s not a problem.”

“I’m not a kid, Gideon,” she said, clearly exasperated. “I don’t want to hang around your place knowing you and Eva were supposed to be out having fun. That would totally suck, so no thanks. I’d rather chill with my own friends.”

Relief relaxed my spine. “How about dinner on Saturday instead?” “Yeah? I’m down. Can I stay the night then?”

I had no idea how I was going to manage it. I had to trust that Eva would know what to do. “That can be arranged. Will you be okay until then?”

“Jeez, listen to you.” She laughed. “You sound like a big brother. I’ll be fine. It was just weird, you know, hearing them going at it. It freaked me out. Most people are probably used to their parents fighting, but I’m not.”

“They’ll be fine. All couples fight eventually.” I said the words, but I was both uneasy and curious. Eva couldn’t have been right about Chris not knowing. I found that impossible to believe.

I’D just finished rolling up the sleeves of my black dress shirt when Eva stepped into the reflection of the mirror. I froze, my gaze raking over her.

She had chosen short shorts, a sheer sleeveless blouse, and high-heeled sandals. She’d pulled her

hair up in its usual ponytail, but she had done something to it to make it look wild and bedhead messy. Her eye makeup was dark, her lips pale. Big gold hoops hung from her ears, and bangles decorated her wrists.

I’d woken up to an angel. I would be going to bed with a different woman entirely.

I whistled in appreciation, turning my back to the mirror to take in the real deal. “You look like a bad, bad girl.”

She wiggled her ass and gave a cocky toss of her head. “I am.” “Come here.”

She eyed me. “I don’t think so. You’ve got the fuck-me look and we have to go.”

“We can be a little late. What would it take to talk you into wearing those shorts just for me?” I wanted others to want her and know she was mine. I also wanted to keep her all to myself.

Her eyes took on a calculating gleam. “We could renegotiate the hand job.”

Remembering the deal we’d struck—a quickie for a clothed hand job—I realized the shorts were going to make the former a bit more difficult than it could be. As for the latter, I could work something out.

Tilting my head in agreement, I told her, “Put on a skirt, angel, and let’s get this party started.”

“WAS this your idea?” Arash asked, when we met him outside the ground-floor entrance to the

Starlight Lounge.

Through the lobby glass, I watched a bouncer oversee the number of patrons entering the elevator that would take them to the rooftop. Two more bouncers stood guard at the exterior door, holding back the surging crowd hoping to get in based on their looks, their clothes, and/or their charm.

“It’s as much of a surprise to me as it is to you.”

“I meant to tell you.” Eva was literally hopping with excitement. “Shawna’s heard good things about this place and I thought it’d be fun.”

“Great reviews online,” Shawna said, “and some of my regulars were raving about it.”

Manuel checked out the eager crowd behind the ropes, while Megumi Kaba stood cautiously between Cary and Eva. Mark Garrity, Steven Ellison, and Arnoldo all stood back, keeping the way clear for those whose names were on the VIP List.

Cary slung his arm around Megumi. “Stick with me, kid.” He gave her a wide smile. “We’ll show ’em how it’s done.”

Eva grabbed my arm. “Your surprise is here.”

I followed her gaze, spotting a couple approaching us. My brows rose when I recognized Magdalene Perez. Her hand was linked with that of the man next to her and her dark eyes were brighter than I’d seen in a long time.

“Maggie,” I greeted her, clasping her extended hand and leaning down to kiss her cheek. “I’m glad you came.”

Gladder still that Eva had asked her. The two women had gotten off to a rocky start, which was entirely Maggie’s fault. The rift between them had strained my relationship with Maggie in the weeks since, and I’d been prepared to accept that as an indefinite state of affairs. It was nice, however, that I didn’t have to.

Maggie grinned. “Gideon. Eva. This is my boyfriend, Gage Flynn.”

I took the man’s hand after he shook Eva’s, noting the strength of his grip and the steady way he met my perusal. He gave me a once-over, too, but mine would be more thorough. Before the week was out, I would know everything worth knowing about the man. Maggie had been through enough with Christopher. I didn’t want to see her hurt again.

“And here’s Will and Natalie,” Eva said, as the last of our group arrived.

Will Granger had a retro beatnik look that worked for him. His arm was snug around the small blue- haired woman next to him, who dressed in the same fifties style and sported twin sleeves of tattoos.

While Eva made the introductions, I nodded at the bouncer to signal the arrival of the final members of our party. He held the line and cleared the doorway for us.

My wife shot me a suspicious glance. “Don’t tell me you own this place.” “Okay, I won’t.”

“You mean you do?”

My hand slid down her back and rested lightly on the curve of her hip. She’d ditched the shorts in favor of a fitted skirt with a split up the back. I almost wished she hadn’t changed. The shorts had shown off her legs; the skirt showed off her amazing ass.

“You need to decide if you want me to answer the question or not,” I said, as we made our way into the club. The music was loud, the amateur singer on the stage louder. Strategic lighting illuminated walkways and tables while still allowing the Manhattan nightscape to dazzle patrons. Air-conditioning

pumped out of the walls and floors, cooling the open air to a comfortable temperature. “Is there anything you don’t own in New York?”

Arash laughed. “He doesn’t own the D’Argos Regal on Thirty-sixth anymore.”

Date: 2015-02-16; view: 587