I wasn’t about to sit here and have a lesson in confused counting with these backwoods weirdos. I needed to start searching this bar for why the tracking device had brought me here in the first place, and why it had failed here.
“She’s in the city,” Memphis said in my ear.
“What?” I asked, way too loudly. Both the people in front of me turned to look at me like I was a madman. I shook my head and just walked away. Exchanging any extra words with that asshole would for sure end in a fistfight.
“The tracker just pinged at a restaurant in the city. It showed up again for all of about twelve seconds and then disappeared again. It’s malfunctioning. I don’t know why. But I have the address for where it just was,” Memphis said. She was typing so fast and so hard that I could hear the keyboard clicks directly in my eardrum
“Send it to Seph,” I said, breaking into a run once I was back in the parking lot.
* * *
“This place, huh?” I asked Memphis when I pulled up in front of the restaurant.
“Your little purple dot is right next to where her little pink one was the last time it was transmitting. They probably won’t let you just walk in. Internet suggests that it’s a black tie kind of place. They’ll probably expect you to have reservations.”
“Then how the shit did she get in?” I wondered out loud. “And why? She done ripping off regular Joes and decide it’s time to go searching for a millionaire?”
“Put the camera on before you go in,” Memphis said.
“Yes ma’am.”
I was very uncomfortable about letting someone else drive Seph off after the events of the last day. I felt like allowing anyone else to touch her was disrespectful, but apparently I also needed to look like I belonged with whatever high-rolling crowd was inside this restaurant. And Seph played into that beautifully. I left her with the valet with just a hint of a threat of bodily harm before I went into the building.
I walked right through the front bar area like I knew where I was headed, past every employee who looked at me sideways for just strolling in like I owned the place. I nearly made it through to the dining area without being stopped just because I knew how to act like an arrogant snob. Came pretty naturally, really.
“Uh, sir? Excuse me?” I heard someone say from behind me when I walked past the two couples who we were waiting to talk to the hostess. I didn’t stop walking but I glanced back over my shoulder.
“Can I help you with something? Do you have a reservation?”
“Yep. My wife’s already here. I’m just heading in to find out where,” I continued on my path.
The little swamp witch wasn’t difficult to spot either. If only she’d looked like a fucking swamp witch. Her back was to me and she was conveniently sitting alone at a table set for two. She was in a black dress that held every curve of her body like it was glued in place. From where I stood, I could see part of the fabric of the dress around her feet on the floor, but there had to have been a massive split in it because I could also see almost the full length of both her crossed legs off to the side of the table.
I didn’t even listen to whatever else the hostess was trying to say to me. I was on my way across the room to my swamp witch. There was a bottle of something sitting in a little cooler of ice next to her table and a glass in her right hand that was nearly empty. She had that elbow up on the table and was holding the glass against her temple. I paused for just a fraction of a second when I watched her left hand raise to her face and then drop right back down. The kind of move women made when they were trying to quickly and discreetly wipe away tears.
thirty-six
TRISTA
I felt someone’s fingers wrap around my hand and the glass in it before they were taking the bottle from the ice to refill my drink. Definitely made me jump but it was also definitely the coolest way anyone had ever topped off my alcohol.
“Thank you,” I said, still staring at the adorable old couple two tables away who I’d been watching since I sat down twenty minutes ago.
“You better enjoy it. You won’t like what comes next, Fancy Face.”
There was no doubt in my mind that he could hear me choke on my own breath at the sound of his voice. I didn’t bother to look at Jersey until he’d unbuttoned his suit jacket to sit across from me at the table.
“You look better in gray,” I said, smiling at the thought of what I’d done to his black jacket. I had to smile and act like it was no big deal because this son of a bitch somehow did look better in gray. His eyes looked bluer, his shoulders somehow appeared even wider. The sight of him this way was nearly paralyzing. I watched his eyes drop from my own down to my very noticeable cleavage and then to where my body disappeared under the table.
“You look pretty fucking good in black.”
I could feel flames crawl from my chest all the way to my cheeks.
“And now in red,” he added with the same chuckle I imagined the devil having. I felt like I couldn’t breathe, but I didn’t know if it was the alcohol, the painfully attractive man across from me, what his presence here meant for me, or the disturbing realization that I wanted to ask if he’d at least fuck me one more time before he ruined my life.
“You got here faster than I thought you would,” I said, forcing myself to go back to watching the old couple, who looked like they’d been in love longer than I’d been alive.
“Why here? Why’d you stop at all?” He asked.