Chapter Three
I definitely took a wrong turn.
“Fuck,” Elodie mumbled, staring at the room full of men. There had to have been at least twenty lining the perimeter of the balcony. It was an odd mixture with the majority being in suits and almost a dozen in leather vests. They all had one thing in common. Every pair of eyes is on me . Elodie offered a nervous smile and cleared her throat. The silence was deafening. She scanned the room only to find one welcoming smile from the ginger-haired biker from earlier. It did nothing to calm her nerves. If anything, it spiked her anxiety.
A sharp bang, like a glass on a table had her jumping back and veering her gaze to the table in the corner. Elodie immediately froze, locked in his gaze. The owner.
This was the icing on the cake. Happy fucking Birthday to me.
His scowl deepened forming two deep lines between his brows. Even in the dim lighting, his eyes were menacing. A shiver ran down her spine, and a cool air blanketed her arms. She’d been hoping to run into him again. But not like this.
Sudden movement from the corner of her eye, had Elodie darting her gaze to the left. The man approaching was the same guy the owner had been speaking with downstairs. Early to mid-thirties with blondish hair, not quite as intimidating as his boss. Until now.
Elodie tried to feign calm and ease. She forced a smile, feeling the heat rise from her chest, blasting her face. He stopped directly in front of her with a sharp glare.
“I believe I’ve made a wrong turn somewhere.”
His gaze hardened. “I believe you have.”
Oh shit.
“I was looking for the bathroom. I’m sorry.” She hooked her thumb over her shoulder toward the elevators. “I’ll just see myself out.” She quickly turned and was caught off guard by another man standing a foot away. Tall, bald, and bearded with a severe glare that would haunt her nightmares. Through his tailored suit she could see his muscular physique. His arms were bigger than her thighs.
She pointed to the elevator. “If you just open the elevator for me, or point me to the stairs, I’ll leave immediately.”
He glanced over her head briefly before looking down at her. “No.”
What? A cold chill spread across her skin, and she swallowed the knot forming in her throat. Oh my God, is this grounds for an arrest? Technically, she wasn’t trespassing. It wasn’t as though she’d snuck into the club. She was a paying customer who strayed into a staff only area. It happened at the boutique with wandering children or someone, like in her case, looking for the restroom. I never called the authorities.
She quickly spun around when she heard the chairs scratch the wood floor. The MC were headed in her direction with the redhead leading the pack. His gaze perused her body with a small smile playing on his lips.
“Darlin’, if you need an escort. I’d be more than happy to take you.”
Elodie glanced between the man with the bulging biceps and the man who approached her. In any other situation, it would be an obvious choice via outward appearances. However, while neither options were giving a safe vibe, she was going to take her chances with the bikers.
“That would be great. Thank you.”
His grin widened until the blond-haired man came up beside her, scowling at the biker. “No.”
The biker smirked, glancing down at Elodie. “Come on, Nash. Be a brother.”
“I’m not your brother, Gent, nor am I a friend. Your business here is done.” Nash jerked his chin to the elevator. “Caine will make sure you can find your way out to the parking lot.”
Gent laughed, and she looked past him to the others. None of them seemed as eager to help. Gent leaned forward, crowding her space, and held up his fingers. “We were this close to a real good time, darlin’.”
Instinctively, Elodie stepped back. His vibe shifted from welcoming and helpful to downright creepy. A good time? All she’d agreed to and was willing to accept was an escort. What the hell did he have in mind?
“Gent.” The deep rumbling warning came from the man toward the back. She peeked past the others. He was older, probably closer in age to her than Gent. His silver hair, mixed with a few dark strands, was tied back. Handsome in a brutish and rugged type of way.
Gent laughed, shook his head, and started toward the elevator. Elodie lowered her gaze to the floor, refusing to make eye contact with any of the bikers. Unfortunately, she misjudged the number of them and straightened just as the older biker was in front of her. President , his patch read. He glanced over, scanning her face with a sharp glare. It only lasted a few seconds.
He turned away, following the rest of the men to the elevator. It seemed to open on command, and they all disappeared inside before the doors closed. She may have been relieved to see them go, but she was still in her own predicament. She drew in a breath, offering Nash a smile. Surely, this had happened before.
“Nash, right?”
He gave a curt nod.
“Great. Well, Nash, I apologize for my untimely disruption. And I can assure you it will never happen again. It was an honest mistake.”
“And one you need to answer for.” Nash looked over her shoulder. “I believe he’d like a word with you.”
Shit. She brushed her hair away from her face and straightened her shoulders.
Nash stepped to her side and gestured to the table across the balcony. She slowly walked toward him. He grabbed his cigar, slipping it between his lips and watching her every move. Her heart pounded as she tried to level her breathing. He’s better looking than I thought.
“Hello.” She pressed her hand to her chest. “I somehow made a wrong turn and ended up in the elevator in my search for a bathroom.”
He took a drag from his cigar giving her no response. Cigars were a turn-off for some people. The smell was strong and pungent. Elodie loved it. She couldn’t explain why. Maybe it was a comfort thing. Her uncle smoked them all the time. She became a bit of a connoisseur.
“Cuban?”
His hand stilled briefly then he took a slow puff, shallowing his cheeks. And again, he said nothing.
Elodie licked her lips and pointed at him. “My uncle has a thing for cigars. Of course, he was never allowed to do it indoors.” She smirked. “He’s been on me for years to try one, but I can’t bring myself to do it. I’m just in it for the smell of the smoke.”
He lowered his hand, tapping the ashes into the glass tray.
“Your name?”
Oh, goddamn. His voice was smooth and deep. It should’ve been the last thing she focused on, but she’d been semi-enthralled since earlier.
“Elodie Martin.” She smiled. He didn’t. “Everyone calls me Elle.”
He motioned with a lowered chin toward the chair. She wasn’t expecting an invitation to join him, but she’d gladly take it. She pulled out the chair across from him and sat. When she crossed her legs, she noticed his gaze drop to the glass table. From his vantage point, he’d have a perfect view. Interesting.
“You have a beautiful club. I’m a business owner too. Of course nothing this elaborate.”
His brow arched. “What do you own?”
“A boutique downtown. Women’s fashion, accessories.”
He nodded, clasping his glass. “And at your boutique, do you have restricted areas only for staff?”
Well, that took an abrupt turn.
Heat flamed her cheeks, and she gave in to a smile. This man was quite the hard ass. But to be fair, it was his club.
“I do, which is why I’m offering my sincerest apologies.”
“Sincerest?” He cocked his brow, and she chuckled.
“Not trying to get arrested on my birthday for trespassing.”
His eyes scanned her face, and he sat back in his chair. “Birthday?”
“Yes. The girls from my store decided to take me out for dinner, and” —she waved her hand toward the lower level— “dancing. The only problem is dancing is not my thing. I actually loathe it. But they were sweet enough to do something nice, so I should probably quit complaining, right?”
He didn’t say a word. This man was giving new meaning to the phrase playing hard to get . Or maybe he just wasn’t interested. He probably had many women hit on him. Even Elodie could admit she didn’t have much game. She rarely needed it. Usually, it was a man coming on to her. If Madalyn could see me now. That thought made her smile. His gaze drifted down to her mouth, and for a brief moment she saw his features soften.
“Any chance you’d allow me to hide out up here for a bit? Give me a small break from my nightmare?” Elodie wasn’t sure where the brazen questions came from. She wasn’t usually this flirty.
He stared at her, giving no indication he was interested in spending more time with her. When he lifted his chin, gesturing to the other man, she knew her time was up. He probably wanted her escorted back downstairs. She shifted in her chair, preparing to stand.
“Tell Nash what you’d like to drink.”
Really? This birthday party had just taken a fantastic turn.
She eyed his glass. “What are you having?”
“Whiskey. Neat.”
“I’ll have the same.”
Maybe this was going to be a great birthday after all.
****
There were few people who fascinated him. By all outward appearances, Elodie shouldn’t have been one of them. He knew nothing about her outside of the basic background check. While she was more than forthcoming with minor details in her life, none of them had been incredibly interesting. But she had been open. More so than people usually were with him. Those he associated with came in guarded and knew better than to divulge too much to Oz. He wouldn’t hesitate to use it against them. It seemed that thought hadn’t crossed her mind. Her unidentified possible link to Sal was a bit suspicious in timing. She just happened to be at his club? Or it could very well have been a coincidence. Again, nothing fascinating. Except for his unexplainable desire to spend a little more time with her.
Elodie was beautiful. The kind of woman men took a second glance at, but she was acutely unaware of her allure. Her confidence was intact, though it may have wavered in his presence. He wouldn’t hold that against her. Few people sat in a room with him and didn’t feel his coldness and respond accordingly. With her, it was slightly different. It was clear by her demeanor she had no idea who she was sitting across from. It was refreshing.
All of the women he’d been with in the past knew exactly who Oz was and the power he held. It was easier if everyone knew the score before getting involved. He used that term loosely. Oz had never been involved with a woman for more than a night or two. It was more like a few hours, never the whole night. Women didn’t play a role in his big picture. He’d never considered the prospect of settling down or having a family. That wasn’t part of his plan. He intended to follow in Sal’s footsteps and continue building an empire.
Still, he couldn’t deny his need. Or his dominant kink. Control was a huge part of Oz’s life. It always had been. He didn’t feel content without ruling over everyone around him. That was extended to the bedroom. Always consensual, but there was only one alpha in his bed.
He grasped his glass, taking a slow sip and watching her like prey. She was the last person who had any place in his bed, let alone his thoughts. Yet he was envisioning her sprawled out, her strawberry blonde hair fanned over his sheets, her wrists cuffed to the headboard, and her legs spread apart. Light blue gaze staring up at him while he slid inside her cherry lips. There was a softness about her. It may have been the soft angles of her face as she glanced over her shoulder down to the main floor. She had a long neck. It wasn’t usually the first thing a man noticed about a woman, but Oz did. He could imagine his hand wrapped around it, her head slung back and curved into the crook of his neck as she begged to come. He tightened his hold over his glass, centering himself and regaining control of his thoughts.
Elodie settled in her seat, the corners of her mouth hiking into a soft smile. “I love the detail and design of your club. You have meticulous taste.”
Yes, I do. Oz steeled his features. She wasn’t telling him anything he didn’t already know. With a waitlist for VIP tables and an even longer wait for their back room, it was the premiere club in the city. And a front.
In his line of work, legitimate businesses that looked good on paper were imperative. There had to be some substance for income, especially considering his lifestyle. The success of the X-Lounge fit the bill. But the money he made from the club was only a fraction of the cash he brought in on a daily basis.
“This is my first time.”
He grabbed his cigar. “First time at the club? Or entering a restricted area without permission?”
Elodie chuckled. It was a rare sound in his presence. Oz put most people on edge. She seemed completely at ease. It was an interesting shift since she’d walked into the balcony.
“The club. But I did do my fair share of trespassing back when I was a teenager.” She shrugged. “Haven’t we all?”
Yes. Though Oz was sure her experience was vastly different from his.
“And you’re here celebrating?”
“The big 4-0.”
Oz didn’t react to the information, though he was surprised. He was usually very good at gauging people’s ages, and he’d assumed she was closer to thirty-five. She had flawless skin with few signs of aging. There was a youthful glow about her. Or maybe he was just seeing it differently at almost ten years her senior.
Elodie cocked her head, and the corner of her eyes crinkled. “As the owner, can I ask you a question?”
This was another rarity. Few people asked anything of Oz.
“You can ask. It doesn’t mean I’ll answer.”
Elodie snorted. “That’s fair. How much does it cost to be in the VIP section?”
“Why?”
She sighed. “VIP was part of my gift, and they refuse to tell me how much. They know if they paid a lot, I’ll be all over their asses. All three just graduated college, so their loans are about to start on top of rent, car payments, and all the fun stuff that goes along with adulting. No one wants to get scolded.” Elodie cocked her head, leaning forward slightly. “How much does a VIP table cost?”
When Oz didn’t respond, she looked up at Nash. He wouldn’t tell her unless he got the okay from Oz. Elodie clasped her hands on her lap and shifted her gaze between him and Nash.
“Fine. If you won’t tell me, then can you at least get our server to give me the bill so I can pay for the drinks?”
“The drinks will be covered,” Oz said, watching her head jerk and her eyes widen.
“You’re going to comp the drinks?” Elodie shook her head. “While I appreciate that, I’m not sure you’re aware of how much those girls can drink. You don’t have to do that.”
Oz raised his brows. “I’m the owner. I can do whatever I please.”
She squinted, and a wide grin emerged from her lips. “It must be nice to be king.”
For the first time during their interaction, his control slipped, and his lips twitched. You have no idea.
Movement to the right caught his attention, and he shifted his gaze over her shoulder. Nash tapped his wrist. Oz extended his arm, glancing down at his watch. It was perfect timing. Oz was enjoying her company a little too much for his own liking.
He straightened in his seat and lifted his chin. “You should be getting back to your party.”
Elodie blinked, seemingly caught off guard by the abrupt shift of energy in the room. She recovered quickly with a strained smile.
“I should.” She cleared her throat and grabbed her glass, downing the remainder of the whiskey.
Impressive.
“How much do I owe you for the drink?”
Oz held up his hand when she reached for her pocketbook. “It’s covered.”
Elodie stilled. If he had to guess, she was contemplating her next move. She dug in her bag and pulled out a business card.
“Well, since you’re comping my drink, then maybe I can return the favor sometime.” She slid it across the table with a small smile playing on her lips.
Oz glanced down at the cream and pink colored cardstock. It was decent quality. She’d obviously invested in her business and marketing.
Oz reached out, but instead of picking it up, he slid it back in front of her, keeping his stare locked on her.
“That won’t be necessary.”
He noticed she made no move to take it back. It almost came off as a challenge. Elodie stood and offered a smile, though it appeared forced. She hooked her bag over her shoulder.
“Thank you for the drink.”
Oz slowly nodded, watching her stall.
“I didn’t get your name.”
Nice segue.
“No, you didn’t.”
She blinked and knitted her brows. It was a brief lapse in her composure, but she regained it quickly. Again, impressive. She pressed her lips together, but he noticed them twitch.
“What do I have to do to get it?”
He grabbed his drink and stared at her over the rim. This would be a good test.
“Ask.”
The corner of her mouth spiked, and a faint blush spread over her cheeks. Beautiful. He sipped his drink, keeping his gaze on her.
She licked her bottom lip and cocked her head. “What’s your name?”
Oz swallowed the whiskey and placed the glass on the table.
“Oz.” He intentionally watched for any type of recognition. If she knew Sal, then she’d have heard of him. Elodie’s only response was a further reddening of her cheeks.
“It was nice to meet you, Oz. Thank you for the drink.” Elodie turned, and he watched her walk across the balcony.
He lifted his chin, gesturing for Ridge to escort her to the elevator as Nash approached him.
Oz stood as she disappeared past the wall. He tugged at the edge of his cuffs and straightened.
“I want eyes on her.”
Nash dipped his chin. “Do you believe her story?”
Oz wasn’t sure, but he didn’t give anyone the benefit of the doubt. Trust was earned, not given freely. Oz ignored the question and buttoned his jacket.
“What time are we meeting Sal?”
“Thirty minutes. We should probably head out now.” Nash fell in line as they made their way to the elevator. “What’s the latest venture?”
Oz narrowed his gaze. Sal was always looking for something to keep him in the business, though now they were all legitimate investments. He’d retired from the Underground with a lot of money. Enough to keep him extremely comfortable for the rest of his life. But he wanted to leave his boys with something more.
“He mentioned something about a cigar lounge.”
Nash chuckled but didn’t comment.
“Garner has called twice.” Nash smirked. “He sounds eager. And impatient. He wants a meeting as soon as you’re available.”
Oz scoffed. “I bet he does.”
Unfortunately for Garner, Oz was going to make him wait. It was all part of the mindfuck, and Oz was a master.