Page 77 of Misconduct

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But it still didn’t make sense. Returning things to their place, taking a last glance around a room before I left to make sure nothing was out of order – these habits were second nature to me. I did them without having to think about it.

Could someone have been in my house?

Fear gripped me, thinking about all those years ago, when very much the same thing had happened.

It wasn’t possible.

I forced myself to sit back in the seat and smooth my hand down my dress, willing the worried expression off my face as I relaxed my muscles.

No. Everything was fine.

I looked down at the dress that hugged my thighs, concentrating on how good it felt, and tried to be excited for the evening ahead.

I didn’t often dress up for nights out, and the outfit was like a second skin. I was surprised Tyler knew my size.

But of course he knew my body.

This morning Patrick had delivered a box with the dress and a note saying he’d have Patrick pick me up at ten. I’d been annoyed on several levels. For one, he didn’t ask; he directed. And second, he had bought me an outfit to wear.

The dress was black, long-sleeved, short and tight. It also featured goldlike jewels around the neck and on the straps running vertically down my naked back. I’d pulled my hair up in a sexy bun, and even though the dress was provocative, it wasn’t distasteful.

After realizing that this meant he was taking me out, I gave in and kept the dress, telling Patrick I’d see him at ten. Which gave me plenty of time to finish tidying up the apartment, run errands, and work out before I had to get ready.

I held the clutch purse in my lap and looked to Patrick, who was making his way toward the French Quarter.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked, knowing Tyler wouldn’t have had me get dressed up to go to his house.

“Veil,” he answered over his shoulder.

Veil?

I’d heard of it, but it was the high end’s version of a high-end club. Tyler is taking me to a nightclub?

I bit back my smile, having a hard time picturing it. Not that he gave off the vibe of being a drip, but – okay, yes, he did.

But that’s one of the things I liked about him. I couldn’t claim to know him all that well, but I could guess that there were ten other things he’d rather be doing than spending time in a club. There was only one place he let himself relax, and that was usually wherever he could get me alone.

“Will Tyler be waiting there?” I inquired.

I could only see the side of Patrick’s face as he spoke, as he kept his eyes on the road. “He got stuck on a conference call overseas, but he shouldn’t be too long,” he explained. “He asked that I take you inside and stay with you until he gets there.”

“No need,” I assured him. “I can take care of myself.”

“Sorry, miss.” I could hear the smile in his voice. “Those are the orders.”

I sat back and stared out the window, letting it go. I wouldn’t be able to convince Tyler I didn’t need protection, because I’d learned karate moves on YouTube. Yeah, right.

After Patrick navigated through the Quarter, slowing for the pedestrians and tourists constantly in the streets, we stopped on Toulouse Street, in front of a large black building with wide windows on the second and third floors. Neon blue and pink light flooded through them, and I noticed a barely visible sign on the front of the building next to the door that read VEIL. It was etched onto a plaque in black and then mounted into the black brick of the establishment, making it anything but obvious. Which I guess would account for its name.

I knew the club was members only, but obviously Tyler could invite guests.

Patrick handed the keys to the valet and circled the car to open my door. I took his hand, stepping out and tucking my small handbag under my arm.

The doorman opened the door and Patrick let me go first. I entered the arcane darkness with him following closely behind.

I stepped slowly, taking in my surroundings, because who knew when I’d ever get to see a private club again.

It was like stepping into a different world.

Of course, everything in New Orleans was old, aged, decrepit, and ruined, but walking past those doors, my eyes widened, and I felt like I’d left the city and entered some secret world hidden right under our noses.

Not that I didn’t like what made this city, but it was a nice surprise to see something so out of place and new-looking.

It was dim but not dark once we entered, and as I walked over the slate marble floors, I suddenly realized why Tyler had bought me the dress. With the way everyone looked here, I certainly fit in.

The men wore sleek, dark suits, some with ties and some without, while the ladies wore tight dresses that showed off bodies they presumably paid for with three Spinning classes a week. I didn’t like the idea of Tyler dressing me up to be like them, but he would’ve known the club had a dress code.

The long bar curved down the wall, looking like a white wave, and the walls were an architect’s dream. Curving in and out in a cubed, geometric pattern, it made you feel not only as though you were in another world but another time. It was sleek, chic, and most of all, expensive-looking.

The massive oval-shaped columns in the middle of the room had to be four feet wide and were made of glass and filled with water that gave off a purple glow from a light hidden somewhere in the tanks.

I sat down at the bar and patted the seat next to me, urging Patrick to join me. He was always so quiet, and it felt awkward having him stand behind me like a bodyguard.

I ordered a gin and tonic, while Patrick settled for a Coke and insisted on paying for mine as well.


Tags: Penelope Douglas Romance