Shan nodded slowly. “Okay. Yes, that sounds…” He released a breath. “I appreciate what you’re doing, son.”
It was my job.
Unfortunately, in this case.
“But no unpredictable cokehead half my age,” he told me. “The closer to forty, the better.”
I scratched my forehead. Shan was looking for a fucking unicorn. He was naïve if he thought I could find him someone who wouldn’t be doing it for money to spend on drugs. With his requirements, high-end escorts were out because of their safety measures. I could get him a dude. He was definitely going to be an adult. He’d consent his pants off—but I couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t have an addiction to support.
Oh, you can think of someone…
I clenched my jaw, ready to fucking punch myself.
I wasn’t close to forty.
Hell, I still had a few years till thirty.
“Lemme get this straight,” I said. “You want a guy who’s willing to enter a dark room where he can’t see you, can’t communicate with you, he should be close to forty. He can’t be an addict. He’s a…top or a bottom? Vers?”
“He’s a bottom,” he replied without missing a beat. Of fucking course Shannon was a top. “Yes, can you find me one of those?”
I stared at him.
“On the matter of protection, we’re going with condoms,” he added. “But it would be nice if he was screened before. Safewords won’t be necessary either. It’s sex, not extreme bondage.”
Jesus Christ, I was a fixer, not a magician.
“I’m willing to pay whatever it takes,” he finished.
Money was hardly the issue, but I’d see what I could find.
“It’s a nonissue, my friend,” Evan said. “We’ve hosted similar events like that before. We already have what you need to set shit up, including an entryway adjacent to the private rooms, so anonymity is guaranteed upon arrival.”
I stubbed out my smoke and peered through the shop window. Nessa was checking out makeup.
“That’s good. I expected it to be more complicated,” I admitted. Or maybe I’d just hoped it would be more complicated, and thus buy me time to get used to the idea of Shan seeing a man.
“Nah, it’s common enough,” Evan responded. “Just give me twenty-four hours’ notice before you need a room, and I’ll personally make sure it’s ready.”
That made me smirk a little. Of course he wanted higher-ups from the Sons to make an appearance here and there. That kind of shit spread like wildfire below ground and provided his club with protection.
After wrapping up my conversation with Evan, I went into the beauty store to see what Nessa was up to, and unfortunately, I couldn’t deduct any questions. She’d told me she’d prioritized asking questions about the syndicate over shopping for makeup, but I was the one who’d told her to go in anyway because Evan had returned my call.
I found her in an aisle where she was looking at concealers.
She was at that age… A zit could ruin her week.
“You ready for lunch, darlin’?” I asked.
I’d shopped what I wanted to shop. A pair of pants, new shoes, and a belt. Good colors this season, and I dug fall fashion. Deeper shades, more British influences.
“Can I have ten more minutes, please?” she asked. “I think I need a new skin care routine.”
Skin care routine. Christ. “You’re too young to even know the term.”
She rolled her eyes at me. “And you’re too young to say old-people things like, you’re too young to blah-blah-blah.”
I grinned.
Fine, she could have ten minutes.
I might as well pick up a new deodorant.
On my way to the tiny corner of men’s products, I passed the fragrance section and paused at an Armani display.
Armani Code. It was the one Shan used.
One whiff from the bottle was enough to flood my brain with images that had no business there. The scent was so him. He’d worn it since the fragrance had come out, I was pretty sure. At least fifteen years. Unlike him, I changed every now and then. I didn’t have a signature scent or whatever.
I took another whiff and glanced at the other bottles along the aisle.
How heightened would the sense of smell become in a completely dark room?
I grabbed a handful of paper strips from a glass container and tested some fragrances before I found one I really liked. It shared the richness and masculinity of Armani Code, but it was subtler and not as heavy.
I remembered growing up with Finn; he would often have his nose stuck in a book on engineering, technology, art, or history. He had a natural knack for understanding people, so he focused his time and energy on understanding things. And he’d done well for himself. He’d built his security firm from scratch and demanded perfection and state-of-the-art technology and software. In the meantime, I’d gotten stuck on human behavior. I wasn’t as tech-savvy—and I lacked the interest to go beyond the basics. I knew what I needed to know. But people, that was where I got my itch scratched.