Page 72 of Savage

It wasn’t until I looked across the bar that I spotted two young men—early twenties, maybe—engaged in a very public and intense make-out session. The one sitting had dark hair and glasses, and the one standing between his legs was in a suit and an…ascot?

I lowered my eyes, not wanting to be caught staring, because while that was probably acceptable on level five, I doubted these two wanted an audience while they were sitting down for a meal. If they managed not to eat each other first.

Not that I could talk. If Lachlan had been here I’d probably be doing my best to crawl into his lap, but he was more careful than that. He had been reluctant to publicly do anything with me because—what did he say? Someone was always watching.

Didn’t seem to bother these two, though, and I wondered if that had something to do with their age. They had to be a good few years younger than I was, and yet they were here, at one of the most prestigious places in Manhattan?

Not that I knew what that place was, exactly.

It wasn’t until the one standing glanced over at me that I realized I’d been caught staring.

Shit.

I looked down at the table, wishing like hell that phones or laptops were allowed in this place, because it would give me something to do other than avoid a full-on stare-down. But I was stuck memorizing the intricate gold swirls embossed on the wooden table.

It wasn’t until I felt the seat dip beside me that I realized someone had slid into the booth.

“Well, well, well, what do we have here? A new face in the crowd?”

The smooth voice asking the question was full of arrogance as I looked up to find the ascot guy seated beside me. I was about to answer when the man with the dark hair and glasses took the seat opposite and shook his head.

“East, cut it out.”

“What? I’m not doing anything.”

“Aren’t you?” Glasses smiled at me and held his hand out. “Hi, I’m Zac, and this is?—”

“James Easton,” East said as though his full name should mean something to me. “Everyone around here calls me East, and I know what to call everyone but you. So who are you…?”

“East,” Zac said, but East didn’t seem at all bothered by it. “He’s obviously here because he’s allowed to be, so why don’t you back off for a second and pretend you have some manners?”

“Because we both know that I don’t.” East aimed a saccharine smile at his partner, who scoffed.

“You’ll have to ignore him for a second. East thinks he knows everyone in the city?—”

“Idoknow everyone in the city,Zacharius. Everyone who’s important, anyway.” East ran his judgmental gaze over me. “But we’re not just talking the city now, are we? Libertine welcomes members from all places, national and international. So again, who are you?”

Libertine?So now I had a name for whatever this place was. But since I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to be talking to other people while I was staying here, I didn’t know what I could and couldn’t say.

Did Lachlan want me to keep quiet? Keep my identity a secret?

He hadn’t said anything like that when he left to take his call, though maybe he’d forgotten. But that wasn’t like him. He was too careful to have left without giving me strict instructions.

When I didn’t answer, East turned in my direction and rested an arm along the back of the booth. “You’re obviously new.”

“Am I?”

As my best bet was to be as evasive as possible, I decided to give this East a taste of his own medicine. I had permission to be here. Hell, I’d signed an NDA to be here. Lachlan had cleared this with his boss. So what did I care what this guy thought?It wasn’t like he ran the place.

“Yes. Otherwise I’d know you,” East said.

“You sure about that?”

Zac chuckled as he flagged down the waitress.

“Yes, Mr. Fletcher?

“Could you bring us a couple martinis? Make sure to put an olive in East’s—he hasn’t eaten today, and it’s making him grumpy. And for you?” Zac glanced at me.

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