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Chapter 13

Varden

Iwas still busting my ass at the office at seven thirty p.m. when a text finally arrived from Saffi.

Jesus, what was I doing, playing with fire like this?

It was early yet for Club Silk, but I steered my Audi in its direction, anyway. I could get there early, have a drink or two with Miss M, and leave my world behind. No one would need anything from me—not work, not my brother—no one.

With Beau crashing at my place, memories of the tough years with our alcoholic asshole of a father were close at hand. Most days, those fucked-up memories, were far from my consciousness.

But I’d manage to achieve enough, both personally and professionally, to have gotten some perspective on that time. Now if only I could have that same influence on Beau, who’d taken the brunt of the family shitshow.

As the first in the family to make it to college, I was out of the house when things had gotten their worst. Beau had had to face it all on his own. For that, I’d never forgive myself. He’d been paying for it ever since.

The gift that kept on giving.

I parked a half block from the club. Close, but also far enough to assess the neighborhood, which could be dicey. And most importantly, to watch the comings and goings.

While I cooled my heels, I scrolled through my text messages. Saffi’s had been noncommittal as hell. Leave it to a newspaper reporter to not give anything away.

Who knew whether she’d be there later? It would be nice, sure. She was a total hottie with that long, dark hair and pretty, round ass. And the way she’d responded to me. I got hard just thinking about it. But in her absence, I’d probably just hit on someone else. I could be an asshole that way.

Why the fuck was I even thinking about her? Maybe I saw something of myself in her, how she was determined to make her own way?

Whatever.

I rang the club’s bell as soon as my mask was on.

Miss M stood before me in another of her slinky gowns—this time blue—her signature long hair in waves and bright red lips. Being greeted at the door was a nice perk, even if she was a little over the top with drama.

“G! So good to see you,” she purred, kissing the lips of my mask. She hooked her arm in mine, and we headed for the bar.

“What can I get you, my friend?” she asked, head tilted.

“Thanks. I’ll have my usual. A bourbon. On the rocks.”

She waved over the bartender, who was still setting up for the evening. “Two bourbons, please.”

She leaned back against the bar, propping her elbows on the surface behind her. “I’ve got something I want to talk to you about.”

Hmmm. “What’s that, M?”

“That woman you were with the other night. I think her name was B? I want to find out more about her.”

Now that was a funny coincidence. Or was it?

“Will you help me?” she asked.

“I don’t know. I mean, you know me, M. I keep my privacy protected.” I gestured to my mask. “And I don’t intend to impose on anyone else’s. That’s not how I roll.”

Good save.

Annoyance crossed her face. She wasn’t used to being told no. But she quickly reverted back to her sweet smile.

“Of course, G. I completely respect that.” She moved closer, lowering her voice even though no one was in earshot.

“But I want you to know, I don’t have a good feeling about her. You do what you want, but I’m asking you to be careful.”

Thank goodness she couldn’t see the expression on my face. She was freaking paranoid. Or, was it good instinct, honed by years of protecting the club?

But Safe was a reporter after all. Could M smell it on her?

I’m sure that had nothing to do with Saffi’s attendance at the club. She was hardly Woodward and Bernstein. She wrote about Little League, for god’s sake.

“Gotcha, babe.” I clinked her glass and headed for the stairs before she killed my buzz.

I parked myself on the cushy second floor sofa where I hoped for a little time to myself, or to be approached by some horny, good-looking chick.

I was flexible.

Turned out, I didn’t have to wait long. A tall redhead wearing only stilettos, a thong, and a half mask paraded by, throwing me a little smile. Her ass jiggled just the smallest amount as she walked away, and my cock jerked to life in my trousers.


Tags: Mika Lane Billionaire Romance