Chapter Two
“Isn’t this the best?”
What the hell did she just say? It was nearly impossible to hear anything over the techno music blasting in her ears. Elodie was pretty sure permanent hearing loss was inevitable, and that was on top of a heart murmur surely instigated by the ridiculous bass pounding through the nightclub.
This is my nightmare come to life.
Elodie leaned across the small round table, angling her head to the side in hopes of hearing a little better. Oh my God, Madalyn’s right, I’m officially that old.
“What?”
Emma, one of her employees and a coordinator of this gathering, laughed. “Isn’t this the best?”
Oh, sweet Emma. Years ago, this would’ve totally been her scene. She and Madalyn would’ve partied and probably closed down the club. They’d been last-call kind of girls. Elodie scanned the scene, taking in the overcrowded, sweaty bodies on the dance floor. Bumping, grinding, laughing, which ultimately would lead to someone declaring it was the best night ever. And tomorrow? They’d be back at it trying to one up the night before, or at the very least recreate it. Ah, to be twenty-four again. But I’m not.
“We had to book this table three months ago.”
What did she say? Elodie knitted her brows and shook her head, screaming across the table. “What do you mean?”
Emma pointed to the table. “VIP. You have to book it in advance. There’s usually a waiting list, so Saylor booked it three months ago. We wanted it to be perfect for you. Do something really special.”
Oh, I feel like an asshole. While she’d known about the surprise celebration, Elodie had no idea this was months in the making. It wasn’t just a week’s work of planning for Emma, Saylor, and Isla to throw this together. It took thought, consideration, and as she looked around the table at the empty drink glasses, she realized a lot of money. The girls had insisted on paying for everything. Did that include this ?
“You didn’t have to pay extra for VIP, right?”
Emma stilled, staring back at Elodie. Isla and Saylor shared a look before grabbing their drinks.
“Girls?” Elodie cringed at her tone. She sounded like their mothers scolding them. I can’t help it.
“Please tell me you didn’t pay to be in the VIP section.”
“Okay.” Isla grinned, placed her glass on the table, and shrugged. “We didn’t pay for the VIP section.”
Liar! Elodie narrowed her gaze, eyeing the petite blonde when Saylor grabbed her hand.
“Even if we did pay” —She squeezed Elodie’s hand— “and I’m not saying we did, it would all be worth it to give you an amazing night. We love you, Elle, and no one deserves a celebration more than you, especially after the year you had.”
While she didn’t share intimate details about her business or her personal life, they knew some. It was impossible to keep the impending lawsuit a secret, especially when she’d been served papers at the boutique. They may have respected her privacy, but they knew the last couple years had been challenging.
I’m such an asshole! She internally groaned, juggling all her feelings. She’d spent the last two hours in the club mentally complaining only to find out this was the girls’ version of giving her the best night of her life.
Elodie mustered up a bright overzealous smile. She sucked in a breath, grabbed her exorbitantly priced drink, and raised it high.
“To the best fortieth birthday ever!”
Emma, Saylor, and Isla rushed to grab their drinks and clanked glasses.
“And this isn’t even the biggest surprise!” Isla cheered, sloshing her drink and practically falling off her stool, much to the amusement of the other two. Isla was feeling no pain. But she would the next morning. Or maybe she wouldn’t. There was beauty in youth and their ability to bounce back.
“Guess who—” Isla was quickly interrupted when Emma grabbed her arm and whispered something in her ear.
Emma turned back to the table. “We’re saving the best surprise for last.”
Elodie had no clue what they were referring to. It didn’t matter. Whatever it may be, she would welcome it with enthusiastic appreciation. I’m done being an asshole for the night.
Isla slammed her glass on the table, reaching out for Elodie’s hand.
“Let’s go dance.”
Oh, hell no. She may have just declared no more negative attitude or vibes, but that didn’t include dancing. As much as she adored these girls, Elodie wouldn’t budge. But that didn’t mean they should miss out. The girls spent half the night at the table bopping to the music, leaving no doubt they were eager to get on the floor.
“You all go. I’m going to sit this one out.” And the next one, and the next one.
As Emma and Isla jumped up from their chairs, Saylor stayed seated, losing a bit of her excitement. She folded her arms, resting her elbows on the table watching as Isla and Emma weaved through the massive crowd. It was evident she wanted to go dance, but she remained at the table with Elodie. There was something to be said about people like Saylor, sacrificing their own joy to ensure Elodie wasn’t sitting alone by herself, especially on her birthday. You will make a fantastic ride or die, Say. It just wouldn’t be Elodie’s.
Elodie leaned close to Saylor and shouted over the music. “Go dance. I’m totally fine.”
Saylor looked over, smiling. Elodie was sure she’d be on the dance floor in seconds. Saylor shook her head and grabbed her drink. “I’d rather hang out with you.”
Liar.
Elodie smiled, sipped her drink, licked the sweetness off her lips, and skimmed the crowd. It was prime seating for people watching and didn’t disappoint.
As she glanced less at the people and more at the design, it was hard not to be impressed. Elodie could appreciate the setting and understood the appeal. Years ago, Madalyn and I would have been here every night.
The dim lighting was low enough to provide an intimate experience without a hazardous situation. The dance floor being in the center allowed for three bars at each corner of the room. Or were there four? She turned in her seat, looking behind her. She didn’t see a bar, but she was gifted with a fantastic view just outside the darkened hallway.
While the average age of most of the patrons was between twenty-five and thirty, this group of well-dressed men seemed closer to her age, if not slightly older. One in particular stood out among the rest.
I’m a sucker for a tall man. He was well over six feet, possible pushing six and a half, dressed in a dark suit. Elodie’s expertise had always been geared to women’s fashion, but she knew enough about men’s to be impressed with his style. Dark gray suit with a black collared shirt accented by the thin tie to match his jacket. It molded over his shoulders and hugged him in all the right places. Most men she knew wore ill-fitted knock-offs they got off the sales rack. There was nothing wrong with that, but there was something sexy about a man in a suit that was made just for him. Just like the guy standing in the center of the group of men.
It was an interesting scene. It was as if there was an invisible barrier that no one crossed. Even the staff walking past kept their distance and didn’t acknowledge them. Elodie watched a waitress balancing a full tray of empty glasses squeeze between a couple rather than excuse herself through the cluster of men. When she finally passed, she kept her head down, not making any eye contact.
Elodie straightened in her seat when he turned slightly. Up until now, she’d only caught a glimpse of his profile, but when he shifted, she was treated to a full view. Even through the dim lighting, she saw his sleek salt-and-pepper hair was neatly styled. I love a side part. He had defined cheekbones, and a prominent brow line. His jaw was masked by an evenly-trimmed, short beard. Mmmmmm… She brushed her fingertips across the outline of her lips. Some women didn’t like the prickly sensation of facial hair. I’m into it. His stone-cold eyes were pinned on the man standing in front of him.
Well, they were.
His gaze shifted, scanning across the room and zoning directly in on Elodie. She sucked in a breath, and her heart fluttered. It was an odd reaction for the reception she was getting from the mystery man. His stare was harsh, almost threatening with a clear warning to look away. It probably would have been the polite response, but Elodie kept her eyes locked on him, desperately trying to ignore the butterflies in her belly. She couldn’t quite remember the last time she’d experienced an instant attraction so strong, and she pressed her thighs together. He turned his attention back to the guy in front of him, but it didn’t deter Elodie. She rested her elbows on the table and leaned forward for a better view.
When a small crowd moved in front of her, she arched her neck and settled back in her seat. She was once again gifted with an unobstructed line of sight and his darkened stare going right through her. His whole persona screamed powerful with an edge of danger.
Without even realizing it, her lips softened into a smile. It was exciting silently flirting with a stranger. Especially one as handsome as this man. And it wasn’t one-sided. His gaze traveled over her face and down her body, lingering on her breasts. Elodie clenched her teeth, fighting against her blush when her nipples beaded.
Then, much to her disappointment, it abruptly ended.
He turned his head and said something to the man he’d been taking to. It seemed a little dismissive. It should’ve been enough for her to lose interest, but Elodie continued to watch them. The younger one nodded as the mystery man turned without giving her another glance. The blondish haired man, however, glanced over, his gaze directly landing on her. The corners of his eyes crinkled, and he lifted his chin as if taking a longer look. A quick flash in his eyes had Elodie straightening in her seat. She knew that look. Recognition? Did she know him? He was entirely too good-looking to forget, but he didn’t look familiar. I’d remember.
He continued to stare. It was strange. He had only seemed to take an interest in her after talking with the silver fox. It could’ve been a coincidence. But…
Had they been talking about me?
The thought was not only absurd but fleeting. She could recognize her own beauty. But in a sea of beautiful young women, she wasn’t one to stand out. Elodie leaned forward once again, watching the mystery man and his entourage of six walk down the hallway.
“This is like a celebrity sighting!” Saylor shouted, catching her attention just as he disappeared from sight.
Elodie spun around in her seat and hooked her thumb over her shoulder. She was about to ask, but Saylor beat her to it.
“That’s the owner!”
Having that piece of information explained a lot. Elodie was tempted to ask for details, but her effort would be fruitless considering she could barely hear anything over the music. And what was the point? Did it really matter? An incredibly good-looking, wealthy club owner. Even if she was looking for a man, she wouldn’t choose him. He probably sat up in the balcony above, handpicking a different younger woman to bed each night. Youth had its perks.
As if she needed a reminder of her own age, she cupped her mouth, covering her yawn. This night was showing no signs of slowing down, but Elodie was officially ready to go home. Saylor had already mentioned going to a bar after the club. If she had any hope of lasting the night, she’d have to get up and move around. Dancing was out of the question. At least for me.
“Saylor!” Elodie shouted, waving her hand to get the younger woman’s attention. “I’m going to the bathroom. Why don’t you go dance? I don’t want you sitting here by yourself.”
Saylor perked up, glancing across the club, seeking out the group that was centered on the dance floor. She arched her neck and jumped up from her chair. “Are you sure?”
Elodie smiled. This girl was desperate to be out there and currently struggling with indecision.
“Yes! Go and have fun. Dance your ass off.”
Saylor grinned and took off down the three small steps of the VIP section. This was the only perk to the night. It wasn’t private by any means, but it gave at least five feet of distance from everyone else. And now, she’d have to venture out in search of a bathroom. She waited a few minutes, hoping for a break in the crowd.
Finally!
She stood and circled the table to the steps. She was on the last one when she glanced up, taking in the line of men walking past her. They were familiar. And notorious with a reputation they wholeheartedly lived up to. Elodie didn’t know any of the members of the Killcreek Drifter MC personally. But she had heard stories throughout the years. Unlike the local MC in Lawry, the Drifters were extremely volatile, unpredictable, and dangerous. If half the stories were true, all these men should be in prison serving life sentences.
As the fourth man passed, there was a large gap, and she glanced to her left. A member had stopped a few feet away with several bikers at his back. The ginger-haired guy smirked and held out his hand, palm up gesturing for her to pass. Courtesy was not what she’d ever expect from a Drifter. But I’ll take it . She stepped down, smiled up at the man in his late-twenties, and mouthed, “Thank you.” She wasn’t going to strain her voice for something he’d never be able to hear.
He smiled back, licked his lips, and winked. What should have been downright cringy had somehow worked for him. However, she was beyond the point in her life when attention from a bad boy meant anything. Besides, he was way too young. She’d made that mistake once and refused to be a repeat offender.
Given who the men were, most people moved out of their way, and for the few who didn’t, they learned fast. Elodie clamped her lips, refusing to laugh when the man in front of her shoulder punched another in the back. When the Drifter turned right toward one hallway, she slid past him in the opposite direction. It was a little quieter but not by much. She searched for a bathroom sign, but the lighting was dim.
Isla waved to her from the dance floor and then not so subtly pointed across the club. It was a mistake to look. Elodie glanced over, unsure of what Isla was gesturing to. Oh hell. When she locked eyes on him, she immediately looked away. It was the most immature way to handle the situation.
The situation. It was a lapse in judgment.
Elodie rushed toward the hall, only to be blocked inches from a clean getaway.
“Hey.”
Elodie smiled, feeling the heat rise from her chest to her cheeks. Blushing was rare at her age, but this scene called for it. Some might’ve thought it was brought on by attention from the gorgeous guy standing before her. They’d be wrong. It stemmed from embarrassment. His age played the biggest factor only second to having shared a weekend long, sex-filled forty hours.
“Hi Dalton.”
“The high school graduate,” as Madalyn liked to refer to him. He’s twenty-four! A one-night stand with extended hours. What was the harm? Wasn’t this what young, single guys lived for? Sex with no strings attached. Apparently, not Dalton.
Elodie had thought it was odd that he’d asked for her number when they’d parted ways. At the time, she’d assumed he was being polite and wanting to do what he may have deemed the right thing. Even if he had no intentions of calling her, it was ending amicably, and they’d never see each other again. That’s what Elodie had assumed. Then he called. And called again. Had his generation redefined one-night stands? And why the hell didn’t someone tell me before I slept with him?
His gaze traveled down her body slowly. “You look fucking hot.”
Don’t cringe. She mustered up a smile. “Thank you.”
“Having a good time?”
No.
“Yes, the club is amazing.”
He lifted his chin to the raised seating and their table. “VIP section. That must have set you back, huh? Heard it’s like two grand for two hours.”
What the… She spun around, staring at their table. It was secluded with a bouncer guarding the only entrance to the raised platform. But two thousand dollars for a few hours? At this point they’d already been at the club for over three. Elodie mentally calculated, and her stomach twisted.
“Isla said you guys are celebrating?”
“Uh yes, my” —She cleared her throat— “fortieth birthday.”
Dalton grinned with a small chuckle, eyeing her body. “No shit. My mom just turned forty-five two weeks ago.”
If she needed confirmation her sexcapade with Dalton had been a mistake in judgement, this was it. She’d sunk so low in her mind. I’m pretty sure this is rock-bottom.
“So, what are your plans after?”
Oh hell no. She would not be a repeat offender in the Mrs. Robinson rendezvous.
Elodie forced a smile and leaned closer. “Dalton, I’m sorry, you caught me while I was on my way to the bathroom. Can we finish this when I get back?”
Dalton grasped her waist in a tight squeeze. “I’ll be here, babe.”
Babe? Oh dear God.
Elodie stepped away and rushed past him. She went farther down the hallway, not entirely sure where she was headed, but most importantly in the opposite direction of Dalton. The bathroom excuse had all been a ruse to get Saylor on the dance floor and then served well for Dalton. Truthfully, she didn’t really have to go, but it would kill time. And if I happen to run into the owner? She tightened her lips, keeping her smile at bay at the ridiculous thought. Although… That was definitely a sex-filled weekend she wouldn’t turn down. Now, that would be a birthday worth celebrating.
As two women walked toward her, Elodie smiled. “Do you know where the bathroom is?”
They pointed farther down the hall. One of the girls shouted over the music, but it was impossible to hear everything she was saying. All Elodie could make out was elevator and right .
“Thanks!”
She wasn’t overly concerned about finding it. In a club this size there was sure to be an obvious line. But when she got to the end of the hall and turned down the next corridor, it was empty.
“Shit,” she muttered, searching for a restroom sign. “Where the hell is it?” She passed the elevator on her right and stopped to look back. Did the girl say to take the elevator? It was the only plausible possibility. As if fate was on her side, the doors opened. Two men stepped out and walked in the opposite direction, not bothering to acknowledge her.
“Perfect.” Elodie rushed forward as the doors started to close.
She glanced up at the screen as the elevator started to move. No numbers? That was odd. She circled the small space noticing the panel was completely flat with no buttons.
What the…
When the doors opened, she peeked out. She could hear voices in the background and surprisingly, the music was barely a whisper. How many floors had she gone up? Elodie stepped out as the doors began to close and peered around. This was definitely not where the bathrooms were, and if she had to guess, it was a restricted area meant for staff. She quickly spun around and reached for the elevator button. There was none.
What in Alice in Wonderland was this?
****
“Killcreek is here,” Nash said.
Oz took a drag from his cigar, squinting toward the opposite end of the balcony. It came as no surprise the MC would come in as an army. Had they been meeting in Killcreek territory, he would’ve done the same. There was a level of trust among the Underground and the club. But neither of them took chances and let their guard down.
Oz gave a sharp nod, but Nash remained standing next to the table.
He narrowed his gaze. “Is there an issue?”
“This is probably not the best time, but I wanted to make you aware.” Nash pulled out the chair and sat, resting his arms on the table.
Nash had been with Oz for decades. He’d hand selected him as his second in command. His position didn’t give Nash any vote or say in how the Underground was run or decisions on deals. However, it did make him a confidante who was privy to most of the innerworkings of the organization. Aside from Rogue, Trey, and Sal, there was no one he trusted more than Nash. While he didn’t hold the same status as Oz’s brothers, Nash had earned his spot in the Underground.
“A little while back, Rogue and Trey expressed their concerns about an interaction between a woman and Sal at a restaurant, if you recall.”
Oz vaguely remembered. He wasn’t present at the time, but Rogue had been vocal about the run in. Usually, Oz took his brother’s antics with a grain of salt. Rogue was known for being overly dramatic, and at times, paranoid. It was Trey’s concern that heightened his attention to the matter. But as far as Oz knew, they got her name from Quinn, Rogue’s woman, and had her checked out. No red flags.
He reached for his whiskey. “You have new information?”
“No.” Nash paused and cleared his throat. “But she’s here, sir.”
Oz furrowed his brows, and his hand stilled on his glass. “At the club?”
Nash gave a curt nod. “It could be a coincidence. But considering Rogue and Trey’s concern, I wanted to make you aware.”
Oz slowly lifted his glass and sipped his whiskey, staring at Nash over the rim, knowing there was more.
“She was the woman you were inquiring about earlier in VIP.”
Oz had clocked her immediately. He’d always had a keen sense for being watched. It was an instant vibe that gave cause to scan the room. Earlier had been no different. He’d locked eyes with her instantly. It wasn’t the first time he’d caught women looking at him, especially in the club. They may not have known exactly who he was, but most knew he was the owner. As a result, a lot of women tried to pursue him. Oz rarely gave any of them a second glance, especially the younger ones.
The long-haired strawberry blonde seated in VIP with her gaze on him had definitely caught his attention. Initially, it was the mere act of staring. Oz knew he had an aura about him. A sinister, deadly vibe that had most people avoiding his stare. With good reason. But not her. It was intriguing, and when he got a full view of the woman, it was also enticing. Beautiful and confident with a taunting small smile. It didn’t happen often, but she had his full attention. Slightly older than the average clientele, her soft eyes stirred something in him. It had been a long time since he’d had an instantaneous attraction and even longer since he’d acted on it. He owned an apartment in the city he used on occasion. Everyone had needs, and he was no different. He’d instructed Nash to find out who she was. Oz never dipped into his club selection for women to bring to his bed, but for her he’d been willing to make an exception.
However, this was a revelation he hadn’t seen coming.
“Are you positive?”
Nash gave a curt nod. “I personally handled the background check. I recognize her from her driver’s license picture. If it’s all right with you, after the meeting I’m going to put more security on the floor. It can’t hurt to have eyes on her.”
This was why he’d put Nash in charge as a backup. He was always one step ahead. Oz had done his due diligence and spoken with Sal, who’d brushed off the scene as unimportant. If Sal wasn’t concerned, why should he be? But to appease his brother and Trey, Oz had her looked into. An average citizen who owned a local shop in the city. Hardly a threat. Oz would give more thought to the coincidence at a later time. For now, he needed to handle his business. That always came first.
He nodded and gestured for Nash to bring in Killcreek.
Oz lit his cigar and watched as the motorcycle club walked across the balcony and headed to his table. He’d been working with the Killcreek Drifters for years. They took the jobs most people shied away from. They were crass, lived off the grid, and stood outside the law in some cases. But they were loyal. Usually.
This meeting had been arranged to segue a truce between the MC and Rogue for a profitable endeavor, which would see both sides handsomely rewarded. If they could just get along. Oz would be playing peacemaker, which would hopefully end his former position of referee.
Ace, president of the club, and his VP, Cross, sat across the table while the other six members spread throughout the room. It was a strategic move that matched up a brother of the club with a member of his security. Oz smirked and lifted his chin. Nash walked across to the other end of the balcony and opened the door. Ten more members of security filed in.
Ace eyed the men and snorted. “This is like a pissing contest.”
Oz merely stared back. He made a point to never engage with Ace outside of business deals. Oz didn’t discount how smart he was or his ability to read people and situations. For someone like Oz, Ace was dangerous. In more ways than one. Oz ran the Underground and therefore the state, but it didn’t mean there weren’t others who held power.
Ace and the MC worked directly under Inez, who was responsible for drug manufacturing and transport in the entire state and beyond. She had a far reach, but she’d always stayed loyal to Sal, with whom she’d started up the ranks. In turn, she’d smoothly slipped into alignment with Oz when he took over.
Oz took a strong pull from his cigar. “Issues with the poker house?”
Ace folded his arms. “Little brother is a pain in my ass.”
Since the day he was born.
“From my understanding, you made a deal which you’re not honoring.”
Ace’s brows knitted in a tight scowl. “I think your understanding is bullshit. Made it clear if they were setting up in our territory, we have final say where it goes.”
“Within reason.”
Ace shared a look with Cross. The VP had always been quieter than Ace but no less intelligent.
Cross tapped the table. “We agreed to keep a fair distance from their place and ours. We got Rogue wanting to set up shop ten miles outside of town. Too close. Their house gets busted, the cops are going to be looking for other places. In our territory. Can’t have that.”
“Well, you’re in luck since our businesses don’t get” —Oz paused, arching his brow— “ busted .”
It’d been a long time since there’d been a concern over a business being infiltrated. Oz, along with Rogue and Trey, had a stringent procedure in place to vet every member of the Underground. Some were trusted more than others, but with the threat weighing on their backs, no one would turn on them. If they got even the slightest feeling, the member was cut out.
However, this did pose a problem. The Underground was built and stayed strong by everyone following the rules, codes, and protocols. Rogue had crossed the line, ignoring Killcreek’s demand.
“You’ll give Trey three options for a more distant property. And you’ll do that by tomorrow.”
Ace nodded. The agreement was fair, and Ace could recognize that. When he started to stand, Oz pointed to the seat.
Ace smirked. “Gonna treat us to a beer?”
His arrogance was expected. As president of the MC, he held a lot of power, especially being aligned with Inez. But there was only one King.
“Take your seat,” Oz said.
Ace’s jaw squared, and he sat.
Oz narrowed his gaze. “We’ve gotten some disturbing information about the activity in Killcreek.”
“What information?”
Oz glanced up at Nash, who stepped forward. It was always best to let Nash share the intel so Oz could focus solely on the men receiving it without missing anything. They’d been using the tactic for years.
“A few days ago, we” —Nash smirked— “to use a phrase you’re familiar with, busted an unauthorized transport outside the city. They were carrying a lot of product through the state that we knew nothing about. Not only were they transporting, but it seems they’d been making some sales along the way. Imagine our surprise when we found out they had permission.” Nash paused. “They were very eager to give you credit.”
Ace slowly shifted his gaze to Oz. “Since when do we have the power to grant any kind of permission?”
Oz hardened his stare. “You don’t, which makes this all the more interesting since apparently the product was holed up in Killcreek for a time.”
Oz watched carefully. Cross straightened in his seat and squared his jaw. He was purposely avoiding looking at Ace. That would give too much away. It told Oz everything he needed to know. Permission had been granted.
Ace spread out his arms. “Don’t know what to tell you.”
Not good enough, Ace.
Oz clenched his jaw. “ Think of something.”
Ace cupped his mouth, drawing his hand over his beard, keeping his scowl locked in place.
“This has got nothing to do with the club. You need to take that up with someone higher than me, Oz. This is way above my fucking pay grade.” Ace folded his arms. “Talk to Inez.”
“I’m talking” —Oz grasped his glass— “to you. That load was in your territory. Practically in your fucking backyard. And you don’t know how it got there?”
A few of the members shared looks between each other, but Cross and Ace remained stoic and unfazed. It was exactly what he’d expected from the President and VP of the Killcreek Drifters MC.
“We handle the transport, not distribution. Aside from small sales on our end, we don’t deal with large quantities. Never have, Oz, you know that. If some motherfucker is coming in and selling, that’s not our problem.”
Technically, yes. But…
Oz narrowed his gaze. “It is if you knew about it.”
“Uh, brother…” Oz shifted his glare to the biker stationed behind the VP. Gent smiled. “With all due respect, Oz. You’re gonna have to take it up with the missus. It’s kinda like being married. No one looks forward to seeing her, but you took the vow.”
A few of the members laughed. But not Ace. He merely smirked and raised his brows.
“Like I said. You gotta talk to Inez.”
Oh, I will. Oz was done with this meeting. He’d get nothing more from the MC. He’d be forced to deal with a high power. And nobody enjoyed dealing with her . He was about to dismiss the club when an unexpected interruption gained everyone’s attention.
“Oh hey, darlin’. You following me?”
Oz glanced over at Gent, but he was looking to the opposite end of the room, smiling. Oz followed his stare, shifting his gaze across the balcony. He was rarely surprised by anything or anyone.
Until now.