Page 11 of The Promises We Break

“That was her.” Flustered, I run my hands through my hair, resting them at the nape of my neck as I look up toward the sky. Okay, she was already in the elevator, but why is she running away from me? She could have stepped out. She saw me and just stood there.

I thought maybe she was just running late and ran off at the airport, not that she was actually trying to avoid me. At least, that was the excuse I was telling myself all day yesterday.

Clicking on the pavement catches my attention as a woman, with heels larger than my condo and a skirt shorter than my fingernail, appears behind the host stand. “Seamus Matthews,” she calls out, her seductive gaze bouncing between the five of us.

“That’s me.” Seamus steps forward. “Can I ask where the group before us is going?”

“Bachelorette parties are typically on the third floor with the male dancers. I’ll be showing you to the second with ourfemale entertainers. We don’t commingle the floors, and we’ll take you up and back down. There is no public access to either floor other than this elevator, so don’t worry, the girls won’t know whatever you guys end up doing tonight.” She winks, clearly not understanding that we are actually trying to stalk them, not hide from them.

Seamus shoots me a knowing look. I’m certain if he had time to plan, he could find some emergency exit or security access easily, but he would be going in blind and we would end up suspiciously looking around the floor and, more than likely, end up getting kicked out.

“Can I just go up to that floor to see someone? I… I saw an old friend head up that way, and I just want to say hi.” Usually, I’d be more charming, but seeing Ember put me in pure panic mode and I have a desperate need to get to her before she disappears.

“No, sorry.” She shakes her head, pulling up a sheet on the clipboard she is holding, inspecting it thoroughly as she squints beyond the mile long lashes gracing her eyelids. “Well, actually, we have the other VIP table available. It’s opposite the stage to that bachelorette party on that floor.”

“Can we switch floors?” Jake chimes in, and I snap a confused look toward him. There is no way I’m allowing a switch to the male dancer floor on his bachelor party.

“Hell yeah, can we switch floors?” Dane adds. Of course he does.

“It’s too late to cancel your VIP table with our lady entertainers tonight. However, you can pay for the VIP table service on the third that includes admission, a lap dance for each of you, and two bottles of liquor. Unfortunately, I can’t do anything about a refund on the other floor.”

“Fuck it.” I reach into my wallet to pull out my credit card. “You guys head up to the table. I’m going to go to the third, and I’ll meet you after I find her.”

The guys glance at each other. Dane has a smile plastered on his face. Seamus is pinching the bridge of his nose, and Kobi’s smirk says everything.

“Hell no. We’re all going.” Jake laughs, patting me on the shoulder. “This is going to be interesting.”

The elevator door expands, and the previously muffled music blares through the small space with clarity. Miraculously, five large men and our very confused hostess, dressed as Rainbow Bright, are able to fit in it. She steps out first, and I’m still amazed she’s able to walk in those platform heels. Or boots or stilettos or ankle breakers. I’m not quite sure what category they fall into. Probably all of the above.

I follow behind her, with the guys trailing behind me, as we shimmy in between loads of people and the tables that are placed closely together throughout the open floor. She continues to guide us toward the side of the stage, all the seats front and center. Nestled between the seats is a small table with a huge bottle of vodka and some other carafes of what looks like cranberry juice and soda.

“Here you are, gentlemen. Enjoy the show.” She smiles, as she should. She just sold us a two thousand dollar table that would have otherwise been vacant and still got paid for the VIP table on the other floor. But I don’t care about that at this point. All I can do is scan the room, looking for those gorgeous cinnamon locks and sparkling emerald gems I’ve been dreaming about since yesterday. Anxiety sets in as I skim the room and can’t find her.

“I don’t see her.” I lean in to tell Seamus.

Crossing his arms over his chest, he tilts his chin down and his face forward as he scours the room. His eyes are pressing to the tops of his lids as he performs his own scan with whatever weird built-in military x-ray vision he has. I watch him as his eyes bounce around the room, and a small squint has my neck snapping in that direction.

There she is.

I stop breathing. She quite literally steals my breath away, and I can feel her presence all the way to the marrow of my bones.

God, she’s beautiful.

There is a glow radiating from around her as the ceiling lights float around the room. The diamond sequined disco ball flickers bits of light over her face and body. There’s a man-made fog machine, somewhere. It’s permeating the air, transmitting a translucent glow around her, and that does nothing but highlight the perfect features of her face, which are on full display as she crosses the room, landing across the stage opposite our table.

Suddenly, the lights dim completely to dark and a figure, introduced as Kilo, appears on stage.Knockin’ the Boots by H-Townblasts through the speakers as the spotlight beams down on the guy, center stage. He rolls his hips, popping his legs as he begins to walk around the stage. Kilo looks out toward the crowd, down at us, then back at the girls. He skirts along the border of the stage, calculating and slow, like a predator hunting for its prey.

He stops in front of Ember.

Motherfucker.

Everything in me tenses. Hard. The agitation seeps out of my pores as Seamus turns toward me.

“Don’t.” His brows narrow at me.

I can only see her silhouette. She’s standing next to a woman, who I assume is the bride, with the silhouette of an unusually large ruffled tutu and veil.

The crowd hoots and hollers loudly as he takes a step off the stage. He sits on the edge, facing the girls, shifting slightly to the left side, grabbing the bride.

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