Athena
The club is already buzzing with activity.
Through the security feed on my phone, I watch as the third limousine of the evening arrives, its tinted windows revealing nothing of the passenger inside.
Robert, head of security, opens the door to help her out.
It’s Senator Mitchell’s wife. If only he knew what she’s up to during her so-called spa trips to Vegas.
I slip my phone into my pocket and scan the lounge, trying to appear composed despite the nervous energy coursing through my veins. Ruby is coming back.
My hands are uncharacteristically clammy, and I discreetly wipe them against my white silk pants. This isn’t me. I don’t get nervous, especially not in my own domain where I control every variable. Yet here I am, checking my watch for the third time in five minutes, wondering when she’ll arrive.
I doubt I’m fooling anyone. Members have noticed how I single Ruby out, how my eyes follow her across the room, how I’m different with her than with anyone else. It’s embarrassing, honestly, how transparent I’ve become.
I make my rounds through the lounge, touching base with members while my senses remain attuned to the entrance, waiting for Ruby to walk through.
When I spot Victoria Mitchell entering the main lounge, I approach her with a welcome smile.
She’s dressed impeccably as always, her bleached bob freshly cut.
“Victoria, what a pleasure. It’s been a while,” I say, kissing her cheek.
She sighs dramatically. “Darling,” she says in her southern drawl, “you have no idea how hard it’s been to get away lately. Charly’s been dragging me to every fundraiser between DC and California. I’m exhausted.”
“Sounds like you need a proper break,” I reply. “Can I get you a gin and tonic?”
Victoria smiles and points to a waitress who’s already making her way toward us, carrying a crystal tumbler. “Your staff is as impeccable as ever.”
The waitress arrives. “Double shot with two slices of cucumber and a pinch of black pepper, Mrs. Mitchell.”
“Just the way I like it.” Victoria accepts the drink with a grateful nod.
She takes a sip and hums with pleasure. “Best service ever. How do they always remember?” Victoria spots Donna across the room and brightens.
“Ah, there’s Donna. She promised we’d share a doobie over drinks and gossip.
I can’t wait to catch up.” She turns to me, eyebrows raised in invitation. “Care to join us?”
I’m about to accept—Victoria’s stories about Washington’s inner circle are always entertaining—when movement at the entrance catches my eye. Ruby.
“I’m sorry, Victoria. Next time?”
Ruby stands just inside the entrance, a vision in a knee-length red wrap dress. She looks stunning and everything I rehearsed evaporates.
Ruby’s eyes find mine across the room, and she smiles as she approaches.
I’m struck by how much I’ve missed her, and I want to pull her into my arms, to kiss her properly, to show everyone here that she’s mine.
But I hesitate, unsure of what she wants, so I settle for a kiss on her cheek, letting my lips linger against her skin longer than necessary.
“You’re killing me,” I whisper in her ear, hoping I sound more composed than I feel. “Can I get you a drink?”
Ruby pulls back slightly, biting her lip as her eyes search mine. “I’ll need something strong,” she murmurs, a slight huskiness in her voice.
I place my hand at the small of her back, guiding her toward the bar.
The contact is innocent enough—anyone watching would see only a hostess escorting a guest—but I feel her muscles tensing under my touch.
I signal the bartender with a subtle nod.
He knows exactly what to pour. We stand close, facing each other.
Ruby takes a slow sip of her Scotch, her eyes never leaving mine over the rim of the glass. A small stain of amber liquid lingers on her lower lip, and I have to force myself not to lean forward and taste it.
“So…Scotch for truth,” I say.
Ruby’s lips curve into a smile. “Ask me anything.” She reaches out to straighten my collar, her fingers brushing against my neck.
“Did I freak you out? Is that why you left?”
There’s a subtle catch in her breath, a momentary tensing of her shoulders. Her fingers pause on my collar as if she’s been caught off guard, didn’t expect me to be so direct. For a beat, I wonder if I’ve made a mistake bringing it up.
But I’m tired of dwelling, of wondering, of obsessing over those five words that sent her running across state lines. If she runs again, so be it.
“I’m sorry if I did,” I continue. “I just need to know that you’re still comfortable with me before we go into that room. Trust is everything, right? We need to be honest with each other.”
Ruby nods, her expression softening. “Yes, it freaked me out a little,” she says quietly. “But I’m here. You haven’t scared me away.” Her gaze drops to my lips again. “I have feelings too. I’m just figuring out how to navigate them.”
My heart beats faster as her words sink in. The admission I didn’t dare hope for, delivered so simply.
“Thank you.” My hand moves of its own accord, sliding from the small of her back to curve around her hip. “For your honesty. I know it’s not simple.” I tighten my grip on her, needing to anchor myself in this moment.
Ruby lets out a soft sigh. “As I said, I’m still figuring things out, but I know one thing.”
“What’s that?”
She inches closer, aligning her body with mine. “I want you to myself.”
My hand moves lower, fingers tracing the curve of her behind through the fabric of her dress. I feel her slight jolt, followed by the way she subtly leans into the touch.
“If it wasn’t clear already, let me make it crystal clear right now,” I say. “I’m yours and only yours. You won’t find me in that room with anyone but you, and you won’t find me flirting with other women.”
Ruby’s eyes widen slightly, her lips parting in surprise at my directness.
“But,” I continue, unable to resist teasing her a little, “as I’m a big scary casino boss, I want something in return. That’s how this works, right? Quid pro quo.”
“Quid pro quo,” she repeats, her hand sliding inside my blazer and around my waist. She lifts the fabric of my top from the waistband of my pants and finds my skin, her fingers trailing up and down my back. “What do you want?”
I lean in and brush my lips against her ear. “I want you to spend the night with me.” When I pull back to look at her, a flush spreads across her cheeks.
“That’s quite a lot to ask for,” she says with an amused smile.
“Maybe.” I shrug, returning her smile with one of my own. “But I’m a hedonist. I want it all.”