Page 18 of Mace

Mace turned to me. “Just have a seat at the bar and Rosie will look out for you. I don’t know exactly how long our meeting is gonna last. Probably a couple of hours, okay?”

His deep voice sent shivers through me because he was standing close and almost whispering in my ear. My hand came up to grasp the front of his shirt which was showing through his unsnapped cut. “Yeah, that’s fine. Rosie seems really nice.”

“Great. Drinks are on the house here, so don’t try to pay.”

I smiled at him. “I’ll try not to get drunk while you’re gone.”

He flashed me a smile. “Don’t try getting naughty with me. There’s a special place we take naughty girls in this club.”

With that cryptic response, he turned and walked into the meeting room. I slid onto a barstool in front of Rosie andwatched two or three dozen brothers go into the meeting room and close the door behind them.

Before Rosie could get turned around to get me a drink, two women slid onto the barstools on either side of me. They were dressed a little wickedly for the daytime, a bit like strippers actually.

One gave me the side-eye. “So you’re with Mace. He’s just a prospect. You know that, right?”

“Yes. I’m aware. Is that supposed to mean something?”

Rosie’s voice sounded a note of warning, “Amelia.”

Ignoring Rosie, Amelia scooted closer. “Of course there’s nothing wrong with dating a prospect. It’s just that they have no real power in the club. I guess as you’re not from around here you don’t know that.”

“I’m not particularly interested in power,” I said. Beside these two women I felt underdressed. Not that I wanted to look like a stripper, but with my braided hair, sweater, and jeans, I felt more like a Sunday school teacher.

The woman on the other side laughed. “I told you Amelia. I can tell by looking that they’re carefree and in love. She just wants him, and he seemed pretty into her as well.”

“No one asked you, Brenda,” Amelia shot back.

Rosie slid a drink across the counter to me. “We serve mocktails until eleven am and then it’s alcohol the rest of the day.”

I took a sip of the drink and discovered it was a fruit mixture that tasted quite delicious. “Rosie, this is really nice.”

Amelia snatched the drink of my hand and stuck her own straw into it. “I’ll be the judge of whether this is decent enough to be served at the Slayer’s clubhouse.”

Rosie opened her mouth, probably to object, but Nine beat her to it. He jumped up and put his huge feet onto Amelia’s thigh making her spill the drink all down the front of her shirt. Then he decided to lick it off, which was hilarious in and of itself. The poor woman started freaking out and yelling, “Get that horrible beast off of me! His tongue is so gross. I can’t stand it. Ugh I’m going to smell like dog spit forever.”

Rosie and Brenda laughed. I smothered back a smile and did my best to pull Nine off the now hysterical woman. I could tell she wanted to go on a long rant but was too grossed out by having dog saliva on her to take the time. We watched her race away towards the bathroom. In the short time I’d known Nine, he had never been anything other than well-mannered, I guessed that he’d not approved of the way Amelia was speaking to me.

Nine propped his head in my lap and gazed up at me with those pretty green eyes as if asking if he’d been a good boy protecting me from the drink stealer. I lifted his head with both hands and gave him a kiss right on the nose and said, “Who’s a good dog?” The other two women just chuckled.

Then a voice came from the staircase behind us. “Dogs are always doing stuff like that. If you had a cat, they wouldn’t be accosting all your friends. You know that, right?”

Rosie leaned over and whispered quickly, “Don’t listen to her. Dusty used to rehome kittens before she left for college. If you give her a minute, she’ll talk you into adopting a cat in no time at all.”

The younger woman walked over and sure enough she had a pretty gray kitten in her arms. “One dog is a handful. I couldn’t possibly take on a cat as well.”

“Sure you could. Cats are very independent. They practically take care of themselves.”

I decided to play this game with her. “I think dogs are friendlier.”

“Not really. Dogs are just brainless idiotic fools that run around looking for a pat on the head.” Stroking the kitten, she practically purred, “Cats are intelligent sensible creatures who make you come to them if you want to be friends.”

“Dogs are man’s best friend,” I pointed out.

“You’re a woman. Cats are great for people with anxiety. They’re compassionate, caring and can alert you when you have cancer or are about to have a seizure.’

“I’ll bet dogs could do that with proper training,” I countered.

Rosie whispered, “You’re good at this game.”

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