Honestly, I was tempted to do just that.
On the whole, it was a nice place. Not the Palm Court, but classy in its own way. And the girls were pretty. Not too skinny or used up. They had curves and moves and they looked like they were genuinely enjoying their work. As I followed Cole to the far side of the main room, I didn't see any touching that they didn't somehow consent to. I did see one guy get a little rowdy, but a bouncer who looked like he used to play professional football descended on him like a tick and politely but firmly showed him the door.
Finally, Cole stopped at one of the tables, signaled to a waitress, then pulled out a chair for me. "So what do you think?"
"It's a nice place," I said honestly. "Classier than I would have guessed."
"You thought we'd lean more toward skanky?"
"No, I--" I cut myself off when I saw his shit-eating grin. "Dammit, Cole. Don't tease me. I'm not exactly in my element here."
He chuckled. "You sure the hell aren't, baby girl."
I sat, still taking it all in--and thinking about my words, and the lie hidden within them. Because even though I'd never been any place like this before, the truth was I found the whole environment rather intoxicating. I looked at the girls doing their moves around the pole, and I could imagine myself up there. All eyes on me. My leg hooked around that hard length of steel, and all the while that I was shimmying against the pole, it was Evan that I imagined I was touching.
I swallowed, looking down at the tabletop until I was certain that my face revealed nothing. I looked up just as the waitress arrived. She wore a top made of gauzy scarves crisscrossed over her breasts. An equally transparent scarf was tied around her waist in what resembled a bathing suit cover with no bathing suit beneath it. She slid a drink in front of Cole and a glass of red wine in front of me. "Shiraz," she said. "I hope that's okay?"
"Perfect. How did you--"
"Beth knows everything," Cole said.
Beth smiled. "I even know that the liquor delivery is here. Since Mr. Sharp already left--"
"Yeah, yeah. Have Frankie check the invoice. Tell him I'll be there in a minute."
She nodded and hurried toward the far side of the room.
I leaned back in my chair. "So what's the deal? You three work out of your downtown office during the week and come here for a little R&R on the weekends?"
"Fuck that," he said. "Evan's the one with the hard-on for a high rise. Tyler and me? We go in when we have to, but we work mostly out of the back."
I cocked my head. "So this isn't Evan's kind of place?"
Cole's eyes narrowed, but I just smiled innocently. "I didn't say that, baby girl. But our Evan's a man of many vices--and many virtues. I guess that makes him multifaceted."
"I guess it does."
Cole swallowed the rest of his drink, then thrust his legs out as he leaned back in his chair. "You gonna tell me why you're here? What exactly does Evan owe you?"
"Cole, I love you to death, but you're completely fucked if you think I'm telling you my personal business."
He laughed. "You have more of your uncle in you than any of us gave you credit for."
"I mean it. All I want to do is see Evan. When's he going to get here?"
"I just wanna help, baby girl. And I get that there's some shit between you and Evan right now. He told me what happened."
"About the Da Vinci?" I asked, because I couldn't imagine that Evan would have told his friend what went down in the alley.
It may have been my imagination, but I thought Cole sat up straighter. "The Da Vinci? You mean the Creature Notebook? What about it?"
I frowned, wondering why Cole was so keyed up about the notebook. Then again, Evan had been in a snit about it, too. "Jahn left it to me, and that didn't make Evan a happy camper." I peered at his face. "Or you, either, I'm guessing. But this is all news to you, which means it's not what Evan told you about. So what did he say?"
For a moment I had the impression that he was going to force us to stay on the topic of ancient manuscripts. But then he seemed to change his mind. He shrugged casually. "The alley."
I'm not sure what he saw on my face, but it made him laugh. "The Poodle on Wednesday, my fine establishment tonight. You're certainly expanding your horizons, Dragonbait."
I'd never until that moment fully understood what it meant to get your feathers ruffled. But mine were very ruffly indeed. "Fine," I said snippily. "You win. I am expanding my horizons, and I want Evan to expand them even further. I want him to finish what he started. And I came here to convince him that he should."
I finished my speech, tossed back the rest of my wine, and glared at him, daring him to say anything that might set me off again.
If he was shocked by my words, he didn't show it. He just leaned back in his seat and studied me. It was an interesting tableau. Cole's eyes on me, his face carved in question. Half-naked women serving drinks behind him. Even more naked women dancing on platforms all around us.
I'd dropped down into Wonderland, and all I needed was someone to hand me the bottle labeled Drink Me.
About the time that I was certain he wasn't going to respond at all, he spoke. "It's a losing battle, sweetheart. No way is Evan going against your uncle's wishes. Especially since we all know that Jahn was right."
"I don't know it."
For the first time, his expression turned brotherly. "You'd end up getting hurt, Angie. And that's the last thing any of us want. Shit." He ran his hand over his buzz-cut hair. "Honestly, it's a damn good thing that Evan's the one with the hard-on for you," he said, as my body started to melt simply from the spoken acknowledgment that not only was Evan attracted to me, but he'd told his friends as much.
"Not that you're not adorable," Cole continued with a grin. "But you're not my type."
"What do you mean it's a good thing?" I asked warily.
"Evan has the most self-control of any of us, and the highest capacity for self-deprivation. You're sweet, Angie, and Evan doesn't do sweet. And if he thinks that something he's doing will hurt someone he cares about, then he simply doesn't do it. And that's that. Trust me, Angie. Whatever debt you think he owes you from that alley, it's going to remain unpaid."
"Sweet," I repeated. "He thinks I'm sweet?" My head was swimming. After everything he said to me about taking flight. About wanting to tie me down and fuck me silly?
After the way his tongue had teased my clit? After the way he'd made me come?
After all that, he thinks I'm sweet?
"Aren't you?" Cole asked, and I could hear the laughter in his voice.
Instead of answering, I signaled for Beth, calling for her to bring me a flight of tequila shots. She arrived with three, and I tossed them back while Cole watched.
"Trying to prove something?" he asked.
"Not a damn thing. I just prefer tequila over wine. What?" I asked innocently. "You didn't know that?" I pressed my finger to my chin. "Hmm. Maybe you three don't know me as well as you think."
"Angie--" There was censure in his voice, but I cut him off.
"No. I told you once I wasn't dragonbait, and I meant it. You haven't got a clue what will and will not hurt me, so don't sit there acting all smug and pretend like you really believe that you three are in cahoots with Jahn to keep me safe. Because that's bullshit." I glared at him. "And don't make assumptions about what I want or need."
Sweet.
The word grated on me, which was ironic since I'd been playing the role for almost eight years. But it wasn't sweet that I wanted Evan to see. More, I'd believed that he'd seen under my sugary coating to the gooey center inside. Wild and tasty and very high in calories.
Apparently I'd been wrong.
Apparently I'd just have to fix that.
Unfortunately, I wasn't sure how.
Cole reached over the table and put his hand atop mine. "I'm going to go take care of that liquor delivery, and then I'm going to drive you home. We can talk on the way."
"I'm not going anywhere. I'm waiting here for Evan, and I don't particularly feel like talking."
"Fine. I'm still going to go take care of that delivery. And you may want to wait here, but last I checked, I owned the place and you didn't. So I'll be driving you home and you can just bitch about it."
"Cole--"
"Don't Cole me. As for the scintillating conversation, we can talk about music. We can talk about movies. Hell, we can talk about that damned Da Vinci notebook. But I'm making sure you get home safe, so you wait for me here, okay?"
I nodded, too defeated to argue. Evan hadn't yet arrived, and I could hardly dig my heels in if Cole was determined to get me out of there.
In other words, I was screwed. And at the moment, I had no plan B.
He headed toward the back where a guy, presumably Frankie, was holding up a clipboard and some paper.
I sat and stewed and looked around. Some of the nearby men turned to look at me, but no one approached, and I assumed that was because I'd been sitting with Cole. That was fine; I had no interest in these men. No real interest in what was going on in this room. There was lust, true. Lust and heat and attraction. Not sparks, though. Not electricity. This room was about sex and titillation, and while I didn't have a problem with that, it wasn't what I wanted.
What I wanted was Evan. The power. The explosion.
I wanted to experience what I'd felt in his arms, and I wanted him to take me where he'd promised we'd go.