ELEVEN
REACHING THEIR DESTINATION, eventually, delivered a reprieve from the heavy air of the car. Cloud, that was the name of the club. She hadn’t picked it, though was thankful her usual haunt, the super-exclusive nightclub, Crimson, hadn’t been floated as an option. Not because she didn’t love it there, she did, it was one of her safe spaces. But Roxie, Crimson’s Empress, was full-on, and the situation wasn’t easy to explain in ten words or less.
More than a few people queued at Cloud’s entrance. A canopy, red carpet, and security on the door… hmm, going for Crimson’s audience? Good luck. She wasn’t worried; Roxie wouldn’t be either. Cloud was a cheap imitation not competition.
Using Baer’s forearm to steady herself, she bent to straighten the strap at the back of her shoe.
“Shit,” Donoghue said. “I changed my jacket before I left the office… You got the invite, Baer?”
Holly laughed. “Oh, sweetie, you don’t need an invite.”
“You okay?” Baer asked when she straightened again.
“I should’ve worn different shoes.”
“If your feet hurt…”
And what memory did that immediately conjure? Her attention drifted to his, and it was right there staring back. The hospital. The foot massage… she shivered. And the power that gave him, oh, he could exploit that in so many ways. Naughty with him could be so much fun; that was a promise delivered in his gaze.
Licking her lips, she smiled at him. “You ain’t nothing but a hound dog,” she whispered.
Baer bowed closer, focused on her mouth. “They said you was high classed.”
Her lips curved higher as she pushed to her tiptoes. “Well, that was just a lie.”
“Uh…” Donoghue said from nearby. He snatched her arm to stuff her hand into the crook of his elbow. Choosing Baer wasn’t meant to be an insult. In truth, she hadn’t done it with conscious thought. Holding Baer’s arm was just more natural. “That’s my date… Yours is there.”
Laying the evil eye on him, Donoghue tugged her against his side, forcing her to let go of Baer. Though reluctant, the latter had to be gracious in going to Holly.
Not that her cousin noticed the exchange, she was too busy ogling the entrance. “Uh,” she said. Stepping closer to Baer, Holly waved toward the door. “Frey, you may have to…”
“Anyone I know?” she asked, hooking a finger into the cleavage of her dress to pull it further down.
When her gaze ascended, Baer’s attention rose from her breasts. Their eyes met, and he crooked a brow. Not a fan of the show? Or not a fan of others enjoying it too?
“It’s Milt,” Holly said, grinning.
“Oh, then we’re fine,” Freya said, opening her clutch to peel a few bills from a stack.
Folding them twice, she tucked them into her cleavage and took Donoghue’s arm again.
With all the confidence in the world, she strode on, chin high, and did what she always did when approaching a place like this, acted like she was the VVIP. Uncomfortable, but effective.
The security guys spotted her coming with Donoghue, Holly and Baer in their wake. One went to unhook the rope cordon. She twisted her upper body an almost imperceptible fraction closer to Milt as she passed him without missing a step.
“Milt,” she said in acknowledgment.
Practiced, he plucked the money free. “Angel,” he responded in kind.
The money was more of a gratuity than a bribe. Milt did a thankless job. He deserved to be acknowledged for his work. The amount of grief he must face each night would test anyone’s patience.
Hustled inside, a sweeping bar area settled in a sort of funnel with staircases curving left and right, ascending to an overhanging floor. Unsettling white sheets hung everywhere, fully unfurled. Yes, they were unusual, but she liked the way muted lights danced across them, enhancing their subtle movement in an invisible breeze. Tables were set in among the drifting fabric, creating a kind of maze.
Why were they…?
Ah, “Cloud!” The material was supposed to give the illusion of being in a cloud. Yeah, it didn’t really work, but points for trying.
A male host and female hostess spotted her.
Holly stepped closer. “We should’ve brought security,” she murmured. “Everyone who’s anyone will—”
“We don’t need security,” Freya said, tipping her chin up to meet Baer’s eyes. “You won’t let anyone hurt me, will you, Hound?”
His tongue moved onto his upper teeth inside his lip, but his mouth didn’t open.
Holly squeezed his arm as she bowed nearer still. “There’s an additional charge for security services, Frey, and not every guy offers—”
“No charge,” Baer said, his eyes locked on hers.
Opening her purse, she took out a bundle of hundreds and handed them to him. “Tipping always helps.”
Donoghue whistled. “You have it made, Royal.”
“You have no idea,” Holly said just as the hosts skidded up at their side.
“Miss Dere—”
“Please…” she said, switching her hand from Donoghue’s arm to Holly’s.
Her cousin let go of her date, and they angled themselves in front of Baer, the man she trusted to keep her safe. She’d seen that body, through a tee-shirt, but she’d had her hands on it and… mm, yes, it was definitely capable.
Mind drifting, she zoned out of whatever the host and hostess were saying. Donoghue replied with something about a table, then they were being ushered upstairs to a corner, apparently their best.
Champagne was already there. Donoghue went in one way of the low-backed circular booth, while Freya went in the other with Baer at her back, Holly wasn’t far behind him.
“Miss Dere, if there’s anything else you—”
“Does anyone drink champagne?” she asked, checking with her companions. None leaped to the defense of the bottle in the bucket or the flutes around it. “Can you take it away, please? I will have Gin and It, my friend…” Freya reached over Baer to touch Holly’s wrist. “Will have a cosmopolitan.” Moving her fingertips to Baer’s arm, she met his eye. “What would you like? Beer? Scotch?” Turning, she glanced at Donoghue who pushed out his lower lip. “What’s your best Macallan?” The host just blinked. “Whatever you have of that, or the Dalmore, whichever is the best… We’ll have water for the table and whatever finger food you have… just give us a selection. Is the company aligned with a charitable cause…?”
“Uh, yes, Miss Dere…”
“If no one approaches this table for the rest of the night, except to provide refills, there will be a ten-thousand- dollar donation made to that charity in your name… Do you understand?”
Stunned, the host nodded and crowded his colleague out of the way to dash off.
Holly squealed. “And the heiress owns the night again,” she said. “I love watching you do that, Angel.”
“I know,” she muttered, sinking back in her seat, adjusting her earring.
People usually did, few recognized it as an act rather than her genuine self. She’d never understood why she was seen as more important than others just because she had access to money. Yes, it gave her security, but it didn’t make her inherently better than anyone else.
“Shit, baby, I had no idea you were worth a mint,” Donoghue said. “Why do they call you Angel?”
“Because she is an angel,” Holly said. “As fast as her grandfather can make money, she’s giving it away.”
“Not quite,” Freya said.
Though not far off. Her grandfather would no doubt echo Holly’s tease.
She should adjust her posture; slouching wasn’t ladylike. That shame was overshadowed by another. All she really wanted to do was pick up Baer’s arm and wrap it around herself to nestle in at his side and listen to the rumble of his voice in his chest. Pathetic. Just his heartbeat would soothe her. A yawn threatened her lips, she needed food and alcohol, and peace.
“Truman Dere,” Donoghue murmured like he was just figuring it out. Yeah, sometimes it took people a minute. Sitting up straight so fast he jolted the table, he gasped. “You’re Truman Dere’s granddaughter…” This kind of reaction was normal. “I thought he didn’t have kids.”
“He doesn’t,” she said, sitting straight to push the champagne bucket and flutes to the far edge of the table. “His son was murdered almost twenty years ago… right alongside his daughter-in-law.”
Sympathy bled from Holly. “Frey…”
She touched the edge of a line on the tabletop pattern. “It’s okay,” Freya said. “Nothing he won’t get from Huddle Hunt. I’m the only Dere left… After me, it’s…” Inhaling, the lights dancing on the sheet around their booth caught her attention. “Truman protects me because walking in to find nothing but blood where your family should be sticks with a person…” And she’d hung up on him. Guilt. Oh, it was heavy and sore. What was she doing? They had rules. Opening her purse to retrieve her phone, she rose to squeeze past Baer and Holly. “Excuse me.”
Pushing one curtain aside led to another. Disorientated, maybe she wouldn’t find her way back.
By a couple of tables in an unoccupied space, she quickly dialed her grandfather. “I’m sorry,” she said as soon as the line connected. “Are you okay?”
“Am I okay?” Truman asked. “What do we say about not answering the phone?”
“I know,” she said, closing her eyes, pressing a finger to her opposite ear when the music distracted her. “I said I was sorry… I’m calling now. Tell me why you called.”
“Jonas Bruce is working two sides of a case,” he said. “Defense and prosecution. You do realize that’s peculiar?”
Her lips contorted. “I amuse you,” she said. “You called to tell me I amuse you?”
“Why else would I call my only granddaughter?” he asked. “We’re not prosecuting?”
“No, we’re not.” Her good humor fled. “Granddaddy, I swear—”
“I don’t need explanations…” No, he never did, not from her. “You had to see the leech?”
“Would you stop calling him that?” She bent over to rest a forearm on the back of the empty booth in front of her. “Chapman, his name is Scott Chapman and yes, I had to see him… I handled it. You know I can handle it.”
“I would feel better if you were home.”
Rolling her eyes, she didn’t restrain her groan. “Granddaddy—”
“Yes, yes, I know,” he said. “You despise me asking. What’s this I hear about one of the Piven girls getting married?”
“Kelly. Yes. What about it? Do you want an invite?”
“Nothing would please me less.”
Typical that he couldn’t just say no. “Aww, and I needed a plus one too.”
“If it will prevent you going with some new leech who is beneath you, I certainly will accompany you.”
“And take all the focus from the bride,” she said. “Either way, you’ll end up paying for most of it.”
“I long ago consoled myself with your life mission to squander our family’s wealth,” he said. She restrained a laugh. “Six generations turn in their graves when you open your purse, my little bleeding heart.”
“Oh…” she said, teasing to make his point for him. “And, also, by the way, we’re making a charitable donation tonight.”
“To whom?”
She laughed. “I don’t know. What do you care? It’s charity.”
“Yes, which I will have to rely on once we’re turfed out by all the orphan children you no doubt plan to move onto the estate.”
“Hey,” she said, on another laugh. “That’s an excellent idea, Granddaddy. All those bedrooms, we have space… and, hey, it would get me home, right?”
“I would rather you bring your own children home to me,” he said. “Did you at least look at the profile I sent you of—”
“You can’t send me profiles anymore, Granddaddy.” She sighed. “It’s weird. The kind of man you want me to be attracted to is not the same kind of man I want to marry.”
His exhale was both pained and fed up. “You get this from your mother’s side. Your father was never this difficult.”
“Daddy shunned your money and lived in Southeast Asia for two years before going to college.”
“Yes, and that wasn’t quite enough to kill me. I see now he left you behind to finish me off,” he said. “I want you secure before I’m not here to support you anymore.”
His money would always be there. No matter how she tried, or how others teased, she’d never be able to spend it all, not in ten lifetimes. But he didn’t mean money, he meant people.
“I know everyone you trust,” she said. “I know dozens of people in the city.”
“Who do you call at three in the morning when you feel alone?”
Wow, did he have to go there? The air weighed on her. No one was the correct answer, the only answer. In an emergency, she could call any number of people to come and take action. But just to hear a voice that would make her feel better? She didn’t have that.
Baer.
She couldn’t count him. She didn’t even have his phone number. Even if she wanted to, she couldn’t call him at three in the morning or three in the afternoon.
“Come to the house for dinner next weekend.”
“I’m going away with the Pivens next weekend.”
“With this new boy?” Only her grandfather would think it was okay to call a grown man a boy. “What do you know about him?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I’ve never met him. We’re supposed to get to know him during this vacation. That’s the point.”
“I don’t like you going away with them alone.”
“I won’t be alone.”
“Take Dexter.”
“I am not going to take Dexter,” she said. “Alan will be there.”
“Oh, what use is that boy?” he chastised. “He’s a wet blanket. Good for nothing but dousing a fire to save the drapes.”
“Would you stop?” Should she be offended or amused? A bit of both. “That’s my cousin.”
“On your mother’s side.”
She narrowed her eyes. “And the distinction is important because…?”
“Deres protect you.”
That sobered the mood. Even after all these years, the reminder could still hit with Mach-10 force.
“That’s you and me, Granddaddy. We’re it… and you don’t have to worry about me being safe. I will be safe.”
“How do you know?”
How did she know? Because Baer was going to be there… Except, maybe he wasn’t. If Holly didn’t choose him to go with her, Baer would stay behind in the city, and their lives would drift apart.
God, where did that come from? What happened to the lighter mood? Time to divert them back.
“Because it wouldn’t be a great impression if this new boy let all of us succumb to tragedy, would it?”
Her grandfather’s wit was dry. “And yet, I am unmoved,” he said. “Send me the details of the resort at least forty-eight hours before you leave… Do you need the chopper?”
“I’ve never visited the place before,” she said. “But I doubt it… I hate that thing.”
“I’ll make sure it’s somewhere on site in case you need to leave in a hurry.”
“You can’t park your helicopter on someone else’s lawn.”
He scoffed. “You have been on this earth almost thirty years. Are you going to tell me you haven’t yet learned money will buy you almost anything?”
“Almost,” she said, fixating on the empty table. “Almost anything.”
Silence passed for a few moments. “Freya,” he said, his softening voice probing. “What’s in your mind?”
“Nothing, I… there’s this guy that I…”
More silence. “Freya?”
Forcing a smile, she couldn’t be anything but happy. “I’ll call you next week, we’ll set something up.”
“Hmm,” he said. “No, we’ll have dinner tomorrow night. Usual time.”
And her driver would know the where after her grandfather decided on it.
Her mind blanked. “We don’t have to—”
“I insist.” And that was the end of the conversation. “When I call, you pick up.”
“Yes, Grandaddy. I love you.”
Hanging up the phone, she stared down at it. He did love her. He did care about her. He just didn’t always understand her. She couldn’t blame him for that, sometimes she didn’t understand herself.