Chapter 4 #2
Livingston whispered something in Cherry’s ear, earning a smile that made my heart stutter and my fists clench. With some guidance from Livingston, Cherry perched on his knee, and Luxe joined them while I stood, befuddled by my growing discomfort.
With a targeted glance in my direction, Livingston fished into his coat pocket and pulled out a crisp bill.
While folding it, he spoke again. “Beckett might not be willing to pay, but I’d empty my wallet for you, precious.
” His hand and the money slid under the waistband of Cherry’s tiny shorts, and I almost choked on a growl.
“He’s not a slot machine, for fuck’s sake.”
Cherry looked at me, clearly perplexed. And pretty. Fuck. So pretty.
Luxe may not have known it, but he’d been upstaged. Outclassed by an incubus in spandex.
“You’re right, and I want a little more play,” Livingston told me while skimming a hand across Cherry’s back. He leaned in to whisper in the redhead’s ear again. “Have you ever seen the suites at the Basilica, honey?”
Cherry’s eyes stayed on me as he replied, “No sir.”
Livingston was keen to the dancer’s inattention, and he reached over, hooking a finger under Cherry’s chin and turning his head until they were face to face.
“Would you like to?” Livingston asked.
“The employees are here for ambiance, not acquisition,” I snapped, no longer able to smother my internal heat.
“I’m the one you’re supposed to be doing business with.
If you manage your company as carelessly as you’re managing this negotiation, it’s little wonder your son wants nothing to do with it. ”
Livingston sucked in a chest-swelling breath, making him look as inflated as a balloon ready to lift off. “You’d do well to watch your tone, devil.” He bit at the word. “I can take myself—and my business—elsewhere.”
He acted like he had options, and he did.
There were plenty of others who would flatter him and finagle until they wrote a deal so devilishly one-sided that Livingston would lose everything.
His company would fall into infernal ownership, and his relationship with his son would be forfeited.
Walking away now meant he could choose that, and I wouldn’t stop him.
My lack of response drove Livingston to stand, and the incubus was nearly dumped on the floor in his haste.
“You’re throwing away our deal over the décor?” He flung a hand toward Cherry and Luxe. “Why bring me here if not for some fun?”
I crossed my arms and set my stance. “You’re the only one having fun, Ewing.”
It seemed my comeback would have to wait. The deal was busted. I wasn’t looking forward to breaking the news to Colette, but I hoped she would understand.
Understand what, though? I hadn’t even heard the man out. I was calling it quits over… not the décor. I wouldn’t call them that.
My gaze flicked to the incubus. I wouldn’t call him that, no matter how nice he was to look at.
Outside the suite, a voice from the DJ booth announced Cherry returning to the stage.
The incubus plucked Livingston’s creased bill from his waistband and handed it to Luxe.
“I uh, have to go.” With an apologetic smile, he darted onto the catwalk outside and out of sight.
His departure left Livingston and me squared off while Luxe shifted on the sofa. He lacked only a bowl of popcorn to look like a theatergoer enjoying the show.
“You should too,” I told Livingston. Then, in case it wasn’t clear, I added, “Go.”
The other man swelled with a final puff of indignation, then took his leave, stomping onto the walkway outside the suite then disappearing into the crowd.
He’d come here in my car, but I trusted him to find his own ride back to the Basilica. And to find someone besides Cherry to share that suite with because I’d inexplicably decided that the incubus was off-limits.
Would I have let him touch Luxe like that? Dancers got fondled and groped all the time, and customers paid for the privilege. I supposed I might have permitted it if Luxe approved. I trusted the veteran performer to enforce his own boundaries. Why didn’t I believe the same of Cherry?
From the couch, Luxe twirled a finger around the spiral of one of his horns while watching me with a Cheshire grin. “That was terribly chivalrous of you, Becky.”
“Yeah, well, it shouldn’t be so damn hard to get some work done,” I grumbled.
Tension fled my body on a sigh, and I glanced back to see the spotlights illuminating the stage and Cherry poised to take flight. Shuffling forward, I dropped onto the couch beside Luxe, who kicked one leg over the other and reclined.
“Interesting choice of locale.” The dancer indicated the room with its gleaming pole table and smoking tray of shots. “For work.”
My lip curled in a scowl. “What do you call what you’re doing?”
“Me?” He turned his hand toward himself, feigning exaggerated innocence. “I’m just enhancing the décor.”
I snorted and propped my elbows on my knees, then clasped my hands.
I didn’t want to linger, but I also didn’t want to run into Livingston while he waited for a car outside.
Most humans knew better than to pick a fight with the damned, but my client had proven not to be the smartest fellow in the room.
“You gonna drink that?”
Glancing up, I saw Luxe pointing at the Envy shot, a bright orange concoction I imagined would glow under black light.
I shook my head.
Luxe downed the drink in a single gulp, then returned the glass to the tray. I’d talked to him plenty of times over the years. He was personable and, in my opinion, too smart to be a stripper. I could enjoy his company, but I found my attention wandering toward the show in progress outside.
Cherry hung perpendicular to the ground, his hair wild and his smile wide.
It was different from the salacious looks the other performers wore.
They knew they were in the market of seduction, but the incubus seemed to be selling something else entirely.
Spectacle. Showmanship. Someone should tell him that shit went over better in a theater than a club.
He smiled, his violet eyes glowed, and his stupid toes sparkled, and he was vibrant.
I couldn’t recall the last time I’d seen someone look so utterly alive.
Wrapped in the silks with his arms outstretched and not a pinch of worry on his face, he was blissful.
Beautiful. And I didn’t care about my busted deal or how Luxe watched me stare, barely blinking, for the rest of the act.
I couldn’t tear my gaze away if I tried.
As Cherry completed his final descent, I was freed from my rapture. I reached for one of the remaining shot glasses, then hesitated at the name on the label. Lust. Shaking my head, I pushed the drink away. Something told me I’d already indulged in enough of that vice tonight.
On stage, the incubus took a bow while onlookers tossed crumpled bills at his feet. Cherry waved and blew kisses to the audience before prancing toward the wings, leaving a stagehand to sweep up the small mountain of money.
“He puts on a good show,” Luxe quipped.
“Definitely,” I replied. “It’s nice to see some real talent.”
The petite demon harrumphed. “Excuse you. I’m the realest talent in this club.”
I rolled my eyes. “Of course.”
His lips quirked in a smile as he glanced toward the now vacant stage. “Do you like him?”
The words crawled over my skin. Clingy. Clumsy. Juvenile.
Worse than that, they were inappropriate. I wasn’t the kind of man who “liked” a stripper. That delusion was for the gullible—for those who convinced themselves this was anything but a job for every dancer in this place.
These were demons making deals, just like I did. I knew the game.
And I wasn’t about to get played.
Still, I decided to give Luxe a measure of grace by responding, “Seems like it would be difficult not to like him. Quality hire. You can tell Maz I said so. But I need to be going.” Pushing to standing, I smoothed down my suit coat and slacks.
Luxe leaped up after me. “What’s the rush? He’s coming back.”
I hummed through a nod. “Good. You can show him some other rooms. And customers a bit more lively than me.”
When I stepped toward the door, Luxe slid around to block it. “Do you really want him seeing other customers?” He tipped his head, and the dainty chains looped around his horns sparkled. “Especially lively ones?”
My frown returned in force. “I don’t know what you’re getting at.”
I moved to bypass him, but the smaller man wouldn’t be dodged.
“You can talk to him, you know,” he pressed. “There’s no charge for that.”
Why the hard sell? I may have let my poker face slip earlier, but that didn’t mean I was an easy mark. And like I’d told Livingston, this wasn’t that kind of establishment.
“My driver is waiting,” I said while making one more bid to exit.
Before I reached the door, it opened, framing the incubus perfectly between glass panes. His gaze darted from me to Luxe.
“Cherry,” Luxe greeted him. “Mister Beckett was just saying how much he enjoyed your performance.”
Cherry’s eyes widened. The smile that had been dazzling under the spotlights was shy now, a flash of fanged teeth and a blush.
“Oh,” he said. “Thank you.”
Did he know how fucking cute he was?
Luxe clapped his hands delightedly. He craned his neck to peer past Cherry into the area outside, where the other executive suites were bustling.
“Looks like I’m needed across the way,” Luxe said. He made a dramatic show of tugging up his billowing sleeve and checking his wrist for a nonexistent watch before winking at me. “You have a little time left on the clock, Becky. Why not make the most of it?”
With that, he was off. Skipping down the catwalk toward the next room over and leaving me alone with the incubus who I definitely, most certainly, did not like.