Untitled #3
"You can sit here. This is the Peacock Room." She ushers us to a booth. "You press this button, and someone will come out and take your drink order."
"Is this the only bar in Club Z or—"
"No," she says. "But for now, you start here. Understand?"
I nod. "Perfectly. Thank you."
"Very welcome," she says. She touches my upper arm and runs her fingers down the side of my jacket. "Armani, no?"
"Custom-made," I say. "By the man himself."
"Very nice, I can tell." She smiles and looks over at Skye. "Have a good evening, madame."
"You too, thanks," Skye says before we sit down. "I think she thinks I'm a prostitute," Skye says out of nowhere, and I burst out laughing.
"Why do you say that?"
"Because you're obviously very well-to-do in your fancy suit with your expensive watch and shoes, and here I am in my knock-off Valentino dress."
"Your what?" I ask.
"It's a knock-off Valentino dress." She grins. "I got it down in Chinatown, and I’m pretty sure she knew that it wasn't real, and I just feel like Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman."
"You shouldn't. You're not a prostitute."
"I know I'm not a prostitute, I just feel like she thinks I am." She sighs. "Anyway, let's get a drink. I really need a drink."
"Sure. What would you like?"
"Maybe a cosmopolitan."
"Sounds good. I'll get us two."
"You drink cocktails?" she asks in surprise.
"Not generally, but when we're in a place like this, I feel like we should class it up a little bit."
I press the button that Anastasia pointed out to me earlier, and another cute blonde comes rushing up to the table.
"Good evening. What would you like to drink tonight?" she asks in a deep voice and accent I can't place.
"We'd like two cosmopolitans, please. Unless there is a house special that you recommend?"
"We do have the Club Z, but it is very potent," she says, glancing at me then Skye. "Would you like to try it?"
"Sure," I say. "What about you, Skye?"
"Sure. When in Rome, right?" She grins.
"Of course. So I will get two Club Z specials. Just so you know, they are a thousand dollars each." Skye gasps, and I shrug.
"That’s fine."
The waitress hurries off, and Skye looks at me with wide eyes. "A thousand-dollar drinks, are you crazy?"
"It's the cost of doing business here," I say, shrugging. "Don't worry about it."
"You've already spent like fifteen hundred."
"Twenty-five hundred, two drinks plus the five hundred at the door."
"Oh, yeah." She moans. "I'm not that good at math."
"It's a good thing you're not a math teacher then, isn't it?"
"Ha ha," she says, rolling her eyes." She leans back and looks around, then she gasps. "Oh my gosh, that's him, right?"
"Who?" I say, my shoulders stiffening.
"Whittaker Matlock, of course." She nods toward the other side of the room. "He's there with two other guys that look like they might be athletes as well."
I stare in the direction she's nodding in, and my eyes narrow. That is indeed Whittaker Matlock, but I don't recognize the two men that he's with.
I look at her. "Okay, that is him, good job."
"You're welcome," she says. "So what do we do now?"
"I'm not sure," I say, frowning. "We're seated too far away from him to make casual talk."
"I have an idea," she says.
"What's your idea?"
"Just wait and see."
She gets up from the booth, and before I know what she's doing, she's hurrying to the other side of the room. I watch as she walks past the table and then doubles back, fawning and gushing over Whittaker.
"What are you doing, Skye?" I mutter under my breath as I sit here watching her.
She's laughing and playing with her hair, and I can see that she has all of the men’s attention.
For a few seconds, I'm jealous. For a few seconds, I feel guilty.
Am I pimping out my assistant for a client?
But no, I hadn't told her to do that. And then, before I know what's happening, Whittaker is shifting on the seat, and she's sitting down next to him.
"What are you saying to him, Skye?" I mutter under my breath.
I'm about to get up and approach the table when the waitress comes back with two crystal glasses filled with a bright purple liquid.
"Here are the two Club Zs," she says, placing them on the table. "Just press the button if you need anything else."
"Thank you, I will."
"You're welcome," she says as she backs away.
I take a sip of the drink, and I cough immediately. I don't recognize the alcohol that's in the glass, but it tastes disgusting. What a waste of a thousand dollars, I think to myself.
My eyes traverse back over to Skye, and now I see she's sitting in Whittaker's lap.
I feel myself growing annoyed and angry.
She was definitely playing her role a little bit too well.
I take another gulp of the drink because even though I don't like it, a thousand dollars is a lot of money to spend; then I grab Skye's glass and head over to the other side of the room.
"Darling," I say as I stop next to the table, staring down at a laughing Skye.
I could see Whittaker's arms wrapped around her waist, and it takes everything in me to not grab her out of his lap.
"I have your drink."
"Oh, thank you," she says. "Whittaker, this is my part-time boyfriend. Honey, this is Whittaker Matlock. He's my favorite NHL player ever."
"Oh." I stare at him.
The man looks up at me with amused eyes. I can tell he thinks that I'm an idiot for leaving my woman alone for a second.
"Nice to meet you, Whittaker. I've followed your career for a number of years. My name's Kingston. I'm a—"
"Hey," he says, nodding, touching Skye on the side of the face as he cuts me off. "Did I tell you yet just how sexy you are, Skye?"
"Yes." She smiles awkwardly and I stiffen as I realize how uncomfortable she seems to be. "But don't say it in front of my part-time boyfriend. I don't want him to be jealous."
"I mean, if he's only part-time, I'm sure he wouldn't mind." Whittaker looks up at me again, his eyes assessing me. "Do you?"
"I kind of do mind that your hands are all over my girlfriend," I say, giving him a closed-mouth grin.
"But I know how sexy she is, and I know how hard it most probably is to resist. But I'm going to have to ask you to desist.” There’s an edge to my voice, and I know that I will knock him to the ground if he steps out of line any more than he already has.
This was a stupid idea.
I keep having stupid ideas.
I am too old and too professional for this crap.
And Skye is too special to me to use her like this. The thought makes my heart race for a few seconds.
Why am I feeling this way?
"Sorry, what?" He blinks at me.
Skye's jaw drops as I grab her hand.
"What are you doing?"
"I think that he's getting a little bit too handsy," I grate out.
I notice that Whittaker's right hand is moving up her thigh, and his left hand is moving close to her breast. There is no way in hell I’m going to let this man feel up Skye.
"It's fine," she says, whispering in my ear. "It's just a game."
"It's not fine," I say. "I'm not going to let this man touch you just so I can sign him as a client."
She blinks slowly and nods. "It's not like I was going to let him finger me or anything." I glare at her. "Or play with my nipples. Sure, he was trying to grab my breast, but I wouldn't let him slip his hand in."
"We will talk later," I say.
I stare at Whittaker, and he's glaring at me. "You got a problem, man?" he asks.
"Yes, I do. My girl is a fan of yours, and she wanted to get your autograph, which I'm okay with. I'm even okay with you flirting with her. But I'm not okay with you touching her when you barely know her, that's not acceptable."