Page 17 of A Mafia's Treasure

“Bartender, get these beauties a drink, will ya.” Hearing his Irish accent, I know for sure this is the target I’m after.

I walk past, falling off my heel and landing on his shoulder.

“Oh my god!” I push myself up but leave my hand on his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, that was super clumsy of me.” My fake giggle doesn’t make him pause. Instead, he just looks at me and smiles, green eyes sparkling.

“No drama.” He winks at me, looking around the bar over my shoulder . “You here alone?” He gestures once again for the barman to attend to him.

“Not anymore.” I smile at him as I turn and walk over to the high table next to the railings. The view from up here is incredible, and you can see all the skyscrapers lining the streets, colors from the lights twinkling in the night sky.

I would have bet anything that he’d follow me, and I’d be right. It can’t have been a full five minutes before I hear him.

“This seat taken,” he purrs.

“Not at all. Please, join me.” I smile sweetly at him.

“The name's Flynn O’Connor.” He reaches for my hand, pulling it toward his mouth, then kisses the back with his thin, dry lips.

Assessing the man, he isn’t going to be a hard one to crack. He’s a tall guy but lean. I cough as he moves his chair closer to mine, and each movement brings with it a waft of his overbearing aftershave. I can’t think what the smell is, but it reminds me of getting into a car with all those different air fresheners hanging up and you're not sure which scent is actually being given off.

We talk for hours, or should I say he talks for hours as the crowd thins out.

“What do you say we take this somewhere a little quieter.” He leans forward and nips my earlobe.

What the fuck! I think not, sweet cheeks. I can put up with your dull ass conversation for this job, but when you decide you think you can touch me, I think it’s time we move forward with what I’m actually here for.

“Let's get another drink, and I’ll nip to the ladies room. Don’t you go anywhere.” I wink at him as I get up and leave the table.

“Oh, I wouldn’t dream of it.” He picks his drink up and knocks it back, raising his arm to summon the waiter.

When I get to the hall, I see a group of guys who’ve clearly reached their limit, which is perfect for me.

“Hey, baby, you're leaving already,” I call out to no one in particular, but one of them will respond. They’ve had too much to drink not to.

“For you, sweetheart, I can stay for one more,” says a voice that doesn’t sound as slurry as some of the others who also responded back to me, and right now I’m not picky.

I head over to the crowd to find my victim, I mean, friend for the evening, and a guy about my age walks toward me.

He has to be mid-20’s, dressed in a gray suit like he came from the office, his hair is dark and messy on the top.

Sold, I think to myself, then I chuckle.

I reach for him, and we kiss. I feel nothing inside, but my mind goes back to Nicolas and how I felt when he kissed me.

I felt something, but was that lust, or was I just turned on and in the moment?

“Hey, let’s have a drink, then get out of here,” I suggest to the guy as I pull back from the kiss.

“We could just head out and get a drink at my place,” he counters.

“Let’s stay for one more, then I’m all yours,” I tell him as I run my hand down the front of his chest and stop at the top of his slacks.

He swallows and looks down at me. “Sure, the guys have moved to the bar inside. I’ll go grab some drinks.”

Fucking perfect! Now I need go back out to the rooftop and then back to the inside bar as quickly as I can.

“Can’t wait,” I purr and walk back out to the rooftop.

I watch as I see my target leaning over the balcony watching the world go by below us and that’s when it strikes, my lightbulb moment. I’m such a fucking genius, and I really should get a pay rise.

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