Page 21 of King of Deception

“Knock yourself out,” I grinned. “I have to go refill, anyway.”

As I made my way to the bar, I repeatedly glanced over my shoulder, following her with my eyes. Stepping farther and farther away from me, she seemed to settle in a corner. Soon enough, a man’s back blocked my view. He was speaking with her.

“Are we done?” I asked the bartender.

“Yup, you’re all set.”

“Thanks.” I quickly turned away, penetrating the crowd as I covered the distance between us. I didn’t stop watching them, and as he shifted to turn, I recognized his face. Steve Palmer. Of course, he was here; the man owned shares in half the city’s night spots. He had also just wrecked his last engagement by getting caught in bed with a stripper. In my opinion, Steve was just another Jude in a more expensive suit.

“Dangerous?” I popped my tray between them, tilting my head as I smiled with closed lips.

Raising her eyebrows, Ella picked up a shot glass with two fingers. “Let me guess. Another spice?”

I nodded, infusing some sarcasm into my tone, “Black pepper. Well done!”

Steve stared at my face for a second, furrowing his eyebrows before looking at her. He then turned to me again, confused. He definitely recognized me, but then again, the cocaine fogging up his brain must have been playing tricks on him.

seven

Playing Cat and Mouse

Ella Rose

Feeling absolutely ridiculous for listening to Alex’s advice and accepting the invitation, I stood in the corner while my eyes scanned the dozens of faces surrounding me.

As if in an alternate universe, everyone around me seemed different. Not only did I not know a single soul, but they didn’t even look like the sort of people with whom I mingled. From head to toe, everyone appeared perfect. Flawless skin, hair, and teeth. Impeccably manicured nails; women and men. Every garment fit like it was tailored specifically for their shapely physiques. The women had legs for miles, and the men’s hairlines were drawn to perfection.

Who were these people, and why was I here?

Sipping on the cocktail I had accepted from a circulating waiter, I thought for a moment that perhaps the invitation had come for or from the company. But then again, nobody from work was here.

Just as I was pondering the option to leave, a handsome red-haired man approached me with a smile. He was wearing an impressive Italian suit, though I didn’t much care for the shimmer in its navy blue fabric.

“It’s a crime that someone would leave you standing here all alone,” he rubbed the tip of his nose.

“No one left me; I’m flying solo tonight,” I grinned.

“Guess it’s my luck, then. Steve Palmer.”

“Ella Rose Boraine.”

“Well,” he chuckled and once again rubbed his nose. “You’re not really a part of this scene, are you? I would’ve recognized you.”

I quickly shook my head, chuckling, “I’m really not.”

“Fresh blood. That’s always good for business. How’d you like the place?”

“Well?” I looked around, examining the modern decoration. “It’s nice.”

“You don’t like it.”

“No, no, I do.” I held up an apologetic hand in case he was the manager. “I’m just really not… what you’d call a… party girl?”

“Then you probably partied with the wrong people.” His hand that kept touching his face was distracting me. But he was still undeniably good-looking and radiated self-assurance.

But then it struck me—those were the very same qualities that had me attracted to Jude.

As I began to mentally formulate an escape, Abel approached with a fresh tray of shots. The look on Steve’s face was nothing short of surprise mixed with confusion, as though he were trying to place the waiter’s face.

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