Page 74 of Greed
Lilo rarely wore makeup.
“Sorry about that,” she said with a wink. “Couldn’t help myself. It’s been too long since I put my lips on that gorgeous face. Had to do it.”
“It’s fine.” Griffin used his hand to finish rubbing his cheek.
“The rest of your family are inside. Except Sloan. She’s late.”
“Not surprised.”
Amelia looked him over. “Wow, Griff. You’re looking good.”
He surveyed her in return. She wore a red, tight dress that accentuated her curves, and flashed a long leg along the front split. “You look good too.”
“Stop it.” She waved him down and batted her eyelashes.
Griffin had learned that when women said one thing, they often meant another. And this felt like such an occasion, so he offered a second compliment. “Your lips are very red.”
She laughed. “Oh, Griff. Still not with it on the lady-talk, are you?”
He wasn’t? He thought he did rather well.
The paparazzi relentlessly fired off questions about his identity, and being the publicist she was, Amelia slid him a coy smile. “Come on. You have to pose for a photo, Parker insisted.” She waved to the side where a banner with the Lazarus Industries logo stamped over it. “Just tilt your head to the left and no one will see the lipstick stain. Show off that hot bod of yours and give the cameras a smile they’ll never forget.”
As he stood there, awkwardly with his face tilted to the left, he couldn’t help but wish for Lilo’s reassuring presence. He had hoped she’d be here with him, holding his hand, keeping him sane and grounded. He didn’t want to be alone. He didn’t want to end up like the main character inCasablanca, bitter and lonely and watching another man go off to save the world with the woman he loved.
Lucky for him, Lilo hadn’t met another man… yet. There’d be no other man taking her. It wasn’t too late.
Griffin counted to ten in his head, then to ninety-nine in multiples of three. When he calculated enough time had passed to be considered appropriate, he said his goodbye to Amelia and entered the club. The pounding base was already vibrating the walls, and he checked his pockets for the earplugs he put in earlier. If the sound got too much, they were his back up. And failing that, he’d slip out the back, or out the secret door in the upstairs office.
When he crested past the cloak-room, he stood on a dais that overlooked the club. It was truly magnificent inside. Parker had designed the interior extremely well.
Hell was an amphitheater with a circular sunken dance-pit in the middle of the room. The floor glowed red. Each shallow step up from the dance floor was a few meters deep and contained either booths, dancing poles, or a bar on the level. A cage hung from the ceiling with a DJ inside. Glowing red, orange and yellow stalactite chandelier lights dangled from the roof as though they were in a cave dripping with flames.
Griffin checked his watch. Officially the invite said to arrive in thirty minutes time, but he preferred to make his appearance early. The rest of his family had similar thoughts because they were already at the bar on the lowest level, except Sloan of course. She would probably arrive sometime later in the night, if at all.
Evan sat on a bar stool with Grace perched on his knee. She wore a black, tight dress that Evan obviously appreciated because he couldn’t keep his hands off her. Mary and Flint stood to the end looking a little uncomfortable but deep in conversation with each other. Griffin didn’t think they’d stay long before retiring to the basement, or their upstairs apartment. Liza was in her standard designer jeans, blouse and heels, and next to her was Parker, wearing a navy suit with a T-shirt that stretched precariously over his muscular frame. He’d grown a short, trimmed beard for the event, and his hair had been tied back in one of those modern ways—half in a bun, half down.
The last of the family, Tony, was sprawled leaning with his back to the bar, arms stretched out on either side, staring at the red dance floor with disinterest, no doubt waiting for the party to begin. The two resident Lazarus wild boys, Tony and Parker, would be on the dance floor later, jackets off and sweating up a storm with the ladies, and then Liza would probably intervene at some point and scare the ladies away—because she liked causing a scene.
Dancing was the very last thing Griffin wanted to do.
“Griffin,” Grace hopped off her manmade seat and walked over. “You’re looking snazzy tonight. I love that color on you.”
She took him by the shoulders and kissed him on the cheek, the same cheek Amelia had earlier, most likely adding another layer of lipstick stain. He smiled back at her, all the while feeling the stickiness of what she’d left, wondering when it was acceptable for him to find a napkin and wipe it off. Amelia didn’t seem to care that he did it immediately. He gingerly lifted his finger to wipe.
“Thank you, Grace. You look beautiful yourself.” In fact, she was a vision. Out of her usual casual attire, or doctor’s uniform, he was completely taken. The black halter dress suited her smaller frame and accentuated her smooth shoulders and graceful neck.
Evan came up behind her and slipped his hand around her back to rest on her rear, then growled at Griffin. “Keep your mitts off my girl.”
“I barely touched her.”
“Evan!” Grace slapped him lightly on the arm. “That’s no way to talk to your brother.”
“I sensed your envy,” Evan insisted. “Don’t pretend.”
“It’s not what you think,” he explained.
Evan arched an eyebrow. “Oh, really?”
