Chapter 16
NICOLETTA
I freeze for only a fraction of a second, but Bolt notices.
I spin around. “Mr. Hanson.”
How could a man I’ve known most of my life become a degenerate, exploiting young girls?
“I didn’t expect to see you tonight.” His voice is polished and perfectly controlled. “Does your father know you’re here?”
His eyes flick to Bolt.
Assessing.
Judging.
“No, I thought it would be fun to surprise him.”
Hanson’s eyes dart back to mine, and I meet his dark gaze with calm coolness.
“How nice. I assume, then, you’ll be joining him for the presentation. This is going to be a big night for him, getting the Humanitarian Award.”
“I wouldn’t miss it. My father will finally be getting what he deserves.”
“So true, so true.” He smiles again, then moves off into the room.
When he’s gone, Bolt leans into my ear. “That was the land developer, right?”
“Very good. You’re really getting the hang of this.”
A waiter offers us a tray of champagne. I take a glass, then nod to Bolt to do the same. “Next thing I know, you’ll be joining Riviera.”
“Yeah, right.” Bolt takes a healthy swig, swallows, and his lips twist. “That tastes like shit!”
It’s all I can do to not spray my mouthful all over him, but I manage to swallow, then laugh. “I’m guessing champagne isn’t your thing.”
“Never had it before, and I hope to never have it again.” He cranes his neck around the room. “Think I could get a shot of Jack?”
“We’re not here to get our drink on,” I remind him.
“No shit, I just wanna get the taste outta my mouth.”
“Nicoletta?” Bitsy, one of my tennis partners, joins us, all eyes on Bolt, then she turns to me. “I was so sorry to hear about Brad.”
“Yes, very unfortunate.”
“And it was never quite clear who did such a terrible thing to such a wonderful man. Everyone had a theory, of course, about how it happened, but no one ever found out. Did they?”
“I guess it will be one of those unsolved mysteries.” I shrug. “Maybe someday it’ll be a Dateline Special.”
“You know, you’re right.” Bitsy leans in and murmurs, “I just want you to know that I and the rest of the tennis team didn’t believe a word of all that nasty gossip.”
“What nasty gossip was that?” I can’t help egging her on.
“Well, you were living with Brad at the time, and then people said you fled to Tijuana.” Her eyes dart to Bolt, then back to me. “But I never believed any of it.”
“Thank you.” I force a fake smile, hoping she knows it’s fake. “Your support means so much, and do pass the same sentiment along to the tennis team.”
“I definitely will,” Bitsy assures. “You know the way some of those women talk, but I never indulged in any of it.”
“Friends like you don’t come along often, Bitsy.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” Her eyes blatantly assess Bolt. “Although, I do understand why you’ve stayed away for so long.”
“Bitsy, I’d like you to meet Bolt.”
She extends her manicured fingers, and Bolt’s palm swallows her hand.
“And where, may I ask, did you meet this gorgeous man?” Bitsy asks slyly.
“We met in Tijuana,” Bolt drawls. “And it was lust at first sight.” He palms my ass. “The minute I saw her, my cock got hard. Next thing I know, she’s dragging me into the back hall, where we fucked each other stupid while a bunch of guys watched. Gotta tell you, she’s one hot piece of ass.”
Bitsy’s jaw literally drops as I struggle to keep a straight face.
“Ahhhh, well, it was very nice meeting you.” Bitsy scrambles away faster than I’ve ever seen her move on the tennis court.
“Do you always have to be a bad boy? Before the night is over, that story will be all over the room. And really, ‘nice piece of ass’?”
“Oh, c’mon, that bitch was asking for it. The way she was eye-fuckin’ me like I was a steak dinner. And don’t think I didn’t pick up on all that shit she said to you. She was just fishing for information.”
“Bitsy is a terrible gossip, but did you have to be so graphic?”
“Not graphic, babe, just the facts. Not one thing I said wasn’t true. You are a hot piece of ass.”
“Except it was you who dragged me into the back hallway.”
“And if I hadn’t, you would’ve probably fucked me right on top of the bar, so, for once, I was the voice of reason.”
I roll my eyes as a reply. “Bitsy aside, we have to stay on topic.”
“Right.”
I focus over Bolt’s shoulder. “I see him.”
I spy my father across the room talking to the lieutenant governor. He’s deep in conversation until he does a half turn and catches sight of me. He does a double-take, then his eyes widen.
Three seconds later, he’s heading our way.
I nudge Bolt. “Showtime.”
My father keeps us in his sights the entire way across the floor, then stops short and glares at me. “What are you doing here?”
“Nice to see you too, Dad.”
“Don’t play games, Nicoletta.”
“I don’t know what you mean?” My voice drips with innocence. “You know I attend this function every year. As a matter of fact, you usually insist upon it. And what’s better than being here when you receive such a prestigious award?”
My father turns to Bolt. “And what are you doing here?”
“Came to see the show.” Bolt ends with a deadly smirk, and I enjoy my father’s blank expression.
My father focuses back on me. “You realize you’ve put yourselves in grave danger by coming here tonight.” His gaze shifts to Bolt. “And your entire club will feel the consequences of tampering with what’s mine.”
Bolt’s lips twist. “I’m assuming you’re not talking about your daughter?”
My father leans in and growls, “You know damn well what I’m talking about.”
“Oh, right,” Bolt sneers. “You mean all those underage girls we set free.”
“Keep your voice down.” My father jerks his head over his shoulder. “There will be repercussions for what you did.”
“Ohh, I don’t think I’ll have to worry about anything happening to me tonight.” Bolt steps into his space. “You, on the other hand . . .”
I pull at Bolt’s sleeve.
“What is that supposed to mean?” my father blusters. “Are you threatening me?”
“Why would I threaten you?” Bolt’s voice is deadly low. “You’re nothing to me.”
“Just remember, I’m not the only one involved, and some of these people are dangerous.”
“Yeah,” Bolt cocks his head, “I ain’t too worried.”
“Well, you certainly should—”
“Clark?” George Davenport claps my father on the back, then gives Bolt a scathing look. “Everything all right here?”
Bolt grips my father’s shoulder. “Me and Clark are just catching up. Right?”
“Yes, that’s right,” my father grounds out, plastering a tight smile on his face.
George turns his gaze to me. “I didn’t know you would be joining us tonight, Nicoletta. Especially after all that unpleasantness concerning Brad.”
I can barely make eye contact with the man, after seeing him on that incriminating video.
“Yes, such a horrible tragedy. Something definitely must be done about crime in this city. Perhaps I should have a word with the chief of police.” I make a show of looking around me. “Is he here tonight?”
“I doubt it,” my father cuts in. “Russ works far too many hours.”
George and my father nod in agreement, and I wonder if Russ Baker is part of their smuggling ring too. Having a ranking police officer would certainly ensure protection, and at this point, I truly don’t think anything would shock me.
“I’m just so surprised to see you here tonight.” George’s eyes dart between my father and me.
My father smiles at me like a cobra scoping out the mongoose. “Yes, I was surprised to see Nicoletta here too.” His smile widens. “Pleasantly surprised, of course.”
George zeroes in on Bolt and sticks out his hand. “I’m—”
“George Davenport, right?” Bolt shakes his hand.
George furrows his brow. “Have we met?”
“In a manner of speaking.” Bolt withdraws his hand and grins. “Although you look much thinner in person.”
Bolt’s words hang between us until George recovers. “Will Nicoletta and her young man be sitting at our table?”
“Yes, yes, of course. I wouldn’t have it any other way,” my father gushes.