Lexi
She supposed it was because the light wasn’t hitting her eyes, making her feel slightly outside the fevered scene.
She could feel the bass of the music through the solid metal door as she pressed the buzzer.
A camera mounted above the door frame tilted in her direction and she waved.
Two minutes later, a burly guy with a startling red beard opened the door, scowling.
“Entrance is around front, girlie.”
Before he could close the door, she slapped a hand on it, surprising him. “That would be fine if I was a girlie or here to party. I’m here to see the boss. We have a meeting.”
His scowl became an assessing gaze as he looked her up and down. She supposed she hadn’t dressed to impress in her oversized hoodie and leggings, but they were comfortable and she’d had a long ass day. Added to which, she felt zero desire to impress anyone at that moment.
“Which boss?” he asked.
“Grayson de LaPonte,” she snapped.
“Alright, alright, come on in. I’ll let him know someone’s here. If you’re lying, I can always kick you back out.”
She snorted as she stepped inside, and he snarled as he closed the door and pushed her back against it by a shoulder. It took Lexi only a heartbeat to assess; the kitchen was less than a dozen paces to her left.
If she screamed, she reasoned, someone would hear it.
In addition, she figured there were cameras on them right now, and her right hand grasped the ever-present ballpoint pen in her pocket.
He didn’t touch her, but leaned in so she could smell the onion-smothered cheesesteak he’d probably had for dinner.
“You got a problem here, girlie?”
“It would seem you do, Andrew,” said a voice just behind him.
Lexi felt a certain amount of satisfaction as Andrew’s eyes went wide below his red bushman eyebrows. It gave him a cartoonish look, and she mentally saw it on memes everywhere.
“Is there an exceptional reason a guest of this club - and a personal fucking guest of mine is backed against a door right now?” Grayson asked, his voice frigid.
The bouncer stuttered as he tried to come up with an answer, standing in front of her. So Lexi stepped around from behind him and answered for him.
“No. Paul Bunyan here just thought that intimidating a little girlie would make him feel better about himself.”
Maybe it hadn’t been necessary to use the air quotes, she thought, but it made her point.
“Andrew?” Grayson asked, and held out his hand to Lexi without looking.
Surprised, she put hers into it and stepped up next to him. Andrew’s eyes bulged as he stared at their clasped hands. After a minute of silence, Grayson nodded.
“Hand me your walkie.”
He handed it over, shoulders slumping. Lexi felt a little bad for him. Yeah, he’d been a testosterone-driven moron, but she didn’t need him to get fired over it, she mused as she heard Grayson bark a name into the walkie.
“Humphrey.”
Lexi squeezed Grayson’s hand and shook her head slightly, looking up at him. It was strange perhaps, but until this moment she hadn’t realized exactly how much taller than her he was.
Without her heels, her eyes only came up to his collarbone. With her hand enveloped by his, standing at his side, she could smell his shampoo; it smelled delicious, like the forest in fall. She blushed and cast her eyes back down. What was wrong with her?