Mikala's Passion (Pulse Series Book 2)

by Rose, Jennifer

  “Talk to you tonight,” Eden picked up her purse and walked past a glowering Mikala. “Dinners at seven don’t be late.”

  “Okaaaay…”

  Carl leaned over the bar to better hear Eden as she stood on tip toe and whispered into his ear. He drew back with a questioning look and then gave her a happy nod.

  What the hell was she up to? Mikala wondered, giving her friend a wave as she exited onto the street.

  “Carl?” Mikala called out, “Let’s go over the liquor order for next week.”

  There wasn’t an awful lot to see in the dance club during the day besides those partaking in lunchtime business meetings, and bored clerks and office assistants interested in a quick bite to get away from work for a half hour or so. The music came from a constant stereo feed, it didn’t make for a dancing environment and the sound of construction still underway above them, proved anything but peaceful.

  Carl placed a fresh glass of juice on Mikala’s coaster and sat. “Should I be ordering a few cases of champagne for the reopening with this order or will I wait and send it closer to the date?” Carl asked, looking up from his papers when Mikala didn’t answer him.

  “Can I ask you a question, Carl?” she asked, sitting with her elbows on the tables edge and her chin perched on her clasped hands.

  “Sure, honey, go ahead.”

  “Are you seeing anyone?” she blurted, without a second thought.

  His brows knotted together. “Is there a reason my personal life seems to be the topic of the day with everyone?”

  “What do you mean?” Mikala asked, trying to come off all butter wouldn’t melt.

  “First Eden asks me to dinner if I’m not attached and now you ask if I’m seeing someone. You never bothered to ask before Mik, what’s going on?”

  “No reason.” Mikala said, picking up a pile of papers and tapping the edge of them on the table. “Just a question… I’m thinking four cases will be plenty, maybe a nice pink champagne what do you think?”

  “I’m thinking you’re up to something and pink champagne won’t go over well with the male crowd.” Carl said, with a snippy tone.

  “How about three cases of white and one pink,” Mikala asked. “And I’m not up to anything, I promise.”

  Carl studied her face before replying, “If you’re thinking of setting me up, put the thought right out of that pretty little head of yours. Not interested and I’ll repeat it so there’s no mistake about it, I’m not interested in dating.”

  “Relax, it never crossed my mind.” Mikala raised her hands in surrender.

  Carl grabbed the liquor order and stood glaring at Mikala. “I’ll phone the order in from your office.”

  He hurried towards her office, no doubt to escape her nosy questions. Landon’s eyes trailing after him, never leaving his target until the office door closed. Landon’s eyes settled on Mikala’s, she was watching him as he ogled Carl, he shrugged his shoulders and they shared a smile.

  ***

  “I’ll make myself at home right here if that’s okay with you, Chase?” Landon asked, pointing to the seating area in the living room. It was the perfect location to keep guard with the elevator to the left and the rest of the penthouse on the right. No-one would get past him and he could finish reading the novel he started a few days ago.

  “You will not.” Eden took Landon’s arm before Chase had a chance to answer, pulling him with her. “You will be joining us tonight; no one gets treated like the hired help in our house. Come on dinners almost ready.”

  The look was almost comical as Eden directed Landon along the hall to the dining room with Mikala and Chase following close behind. Eden was a tiny little thing at five feet tall. It was funny enough seeing Chase and Eden side by side, since he stood six foot five and towered over her. But Landon, who was close to six feet and clearly outweighing Chase in muscle mass by a good thirty pounds, called attention to just how tiny she really was.

  “Mik and Chase, you sit there.” Eden directed them to the seats at the far side of the table. “Landon, you sit here beside me.” She held the back of the chair kiddy corner to hers and smiled once everyone took their appointed seats.

  Mikala was doing the math as she gazed over the place settings and seating arrangement. It all added up to Eden playing matchmaker again. She was cute in her quest to turn the entire world into one giant happily-ever-after-fairytale-ending. The only problem Mikala could think of was if Eden’s self-proclaimed gay-dar was off the map and neither Carl nor Landon was gay. Worse still, one was and one was not. Talk about awkward moments. If anything, the evening was going to be an entertaining one.

  Mason came into the room from the kitchen surprising Mikala with a kiss on the cheek as he placed a platter of neatly sliced beef on the table. “Hi sugar, Landon. I was starting to wonder where you two got to.”

  The words were barely out of his mouth when Carl walked into the room with two more dishes and his eyes narrowed into a frown when he saw everyone seated at the table.

  “Hello.”

  “You know everyone, you met Landon earlier today at the club,” Eden said, setting down a dish each of scalloped potatoes and mixed vegetables. “I wasn’t sure what you boys liked so I made roast beef, fried chicken and baked tilapia. I hope you like scalloped potatoes.”

  “Quit fussing, they’re men, they will eat anything set in front of them,” Mikala said, as Chase walked around the table filling glasses with wine.

  Landon placed his hand over his glass as Chase was about to fill it. “None for me thanks.” Eden swooped in with a can of soda and a glass of ice.

  Mikala sat quietly observing the table guests as they consumed nearly every morsel of food and a few bottles of wine. While Mason, Chase and Carl discussed the clubs reopening, Landon and Eden seemed to be enjoying an intense conversation. Mikala couldn’t make out the details over the sundry of voices, but she did notice the amount of attention Landon was paying Carl. There was indeed a strong interest on Landon’s part and Eden seemed to be egging it on. From time to time Carl’s head would turn from his conversation long enough to catch Landon’s stare. It was intriguing the way Landon didn’t bother to hide his attraction, while Carl acted all casual, as if he wasn’t being eaten alive by the big sexy man beside him.

  Mikala found herself enjoying the circus around her, even if she was practically being ignored. Entertainment came in many different forms and for Mikala; observation could be the best entertainment of all. She often found herself standing behind the bar at the club watching how people approached each other and the reaction from those being hunted down. The expressions on faces and body language told stories that could never be hidden. Mikala had always had a way of reading people, most people anyway. An aura as she called it surrounded the soul, she could feel the good or the bad with just a touch of her hand or a caress of her fingertips across warm skin.

  Reaching forward as she stood, Mikala touched her fingertips to Landon’s knuckles and whispered, “I’ll be right back,” as an excuse to test who he was and beamed as she left the room.

  His was a good soul, strong and protective. Carl couldn’t do much better than Landon. Carl had a good soul to match, a generous, caregiving, providing soul. Mikala crossed her fingers and prayed that Eden’s magic would work in bringing these two together.

  ***

  Nearing two in the morning, Mikala carefully slipped out of bed so as not to disturb Mason. She quietly went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water and sat at one of the stools at the island. Her mind was a mess with figures and thoughts of deadlines, and a stalker that was haunting her sleep. She worried her bottom lip as she allowed her head to think of a disastrous reopening night and the vision of flames as they roared all around her.

  A throat clearing in the silence startled her. The glass she was holding slipped from her grasp, causing water to pour across the counter.

  “Shit, you scared me,” Mikala said, watching as Landon peeled several sheets of pa
per towel from a roll and sopped up the mess.

  “Sorry about that, Miss Santino,” he apologized, with an award winning smile.

  “For a big guy, you sure do move around quietly.”

  “All in the training, let me refill your glass,” he offered, taking her glass and filling it before her mouth opened. “Are you okay, Miss Santino, you need anything?”

  “Call me Mik and no thanks, I don’t need anything.” Her eyes met his as he stood there watching her. “You couldn’t sleep either?” she asked, patting the seat beside her, he shook his head and remained glued to the spot.

  “I sleep fine,” he said.

  “Why are you awake then?”

  “Because you are,” he said matter of fact, and Mikala laughed.

  “This twenty four seven thing doesn’t mean you can’t sleep,” she said.

  “Miss Santino, I have strict orders, twenty four seven means exactly that, twenty four seven.”

  Her joke regarding Landon sharing her bed came to mind and she rolled her eyes picturing Landon wedged between her and Mason. The three of them in the queen size bed as she and Mason teetered on either edge.

  Mikala shook her head letting out a quiet sigh. “Sorry, I should go back to bed then and let you get some sleep.”

  “Something on your mind? I listen very well, you can consider me a confidant,” he whispered, and she smiled as his tough guy exterior seemed to melt away as he sat down beside her.

  She shrugged her shoulders. “There are bills to pay and shit like that, everyday worries seem to be adding up. When its dark my mind races, don’t you hate the dark?” she rubbed her hands over her face.

  “Afraid of the dark?” he asked, leaning on his elbows.

  Mikala liked the way Landon was easing into an instant friendship with her. He was easy to talk to and that voice of his, especially when he was whispering, was wonderfully soothing.

  “No, I’m not scared of the dark, but I don’t like to be alone in it. It’s the not knowing what’s there that scares me.”

  “I’m not a fan of the dark either,” he confessed, causing her to spin in her seat to face him.

  “You can’t possibly be afraid of the dark…you don’t like to be alone?”

  He gave a shit-eating grin. “No one likes to be alone, do they?” he asked, he was the answer a question with a question type, this could prove annoying.

  She stifled a yawn with her hand. “Get us a real drink from cupboard over the stove.” She instructed watching as Landon held up a bottle and she nodded her agreement. He poured her a glass, and then searched the fridge until he located a can of soda and sat back down.

  “What did Mason tell you about me? What do you know?” she probed.

  “Everything I need to and nothing more,” he replied. Landon suddenly seemed like an open book with chapters missing, eager to be questioned, yet questions seemed to draw vague answers.

  “Can I be nosy?” she narrowed her eyes, tilting her head.

  “You can.”

  “Are you married?”

  “No,” he answered, without a change in expression.

  “Do you have a Girlfriend?”

  “No.” His expression still unchanged.

  “Boyfriend?” she snuck in, expecting something to change in his face or his eyes.

  “No.” He didn’t so much as blink, he was an intentional mystery.

  The confidant thing he offered, was clearly one sided. The books pages seemed suddenly blank. It frustrated her not being able to read between the slightly blurred lines. It would take a direct approach with Landon, pussy footing around obviously wasn’t his style.

  “Are you gay?”

  “Yes,” he unashamedly admitted, staring into her eyes, perhaps waiting for her to falter, waiting for her to gasp dramatically and hold her hand to her chest in shock.

  It wasn’t going to happen.

  “Does Mason know?”

  “Of course he does,” Landon said, taking a sip from his can.

  His expression remained calm, cool and collected. He was surviving unscathed as she pried deeper and he willingly let her in.

  “Do you like, Carl?”

  “I do.” He smiled for the first time since her interrogation started.

  “Is he gay?”

  “You don’t know?” He raised a brow with a grin.

  “No,” she said, shaking her head as the word came out.

  “I believe he is.”

  “Seriously, I never imagined.”

  “Unfortunately I don’t think he’s willing to lay it on the line. He’s confused, I can understand that, but he’s not being honest with himself.”

  Mikala sipped from her glass and set her elbow on the counter with her head on her hand and smirked. “Are you going to ask him out?”

  “I may in time,” he said, draining his can of soda and crushing it like it was a paper cup. “But duty calls, I have a job to do first.”

  “Don’t let me stand in your way, go for it.” Mikala encouraged.

  Landon placed his hand on her forearm. “I don’t allow anything to stand in the way of what I want. But pushing Carl into something he’s not ready for wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.” He stood. “Time to go back to bed, Mikala,”

  “Okay,” Mikala agreed, surprising herself when she moved in and gave him a hug. “Well, good luck in your pursuit, whenever you decide to make a move that is.”

  “Do me a favor though,” she asked, without waiting for an answer, “Carl’s a good guy, don’t hurt him.”

  “Don’t worry for a minute,” he continued with a sweet smile, “I have no intention of causing Carl any kind of pain, heart or otherwise.”

  Landon winked and Mikala rolled her eyes when the double entendre sunk in.

  “Oh, behave,” Mikala teased.

  “You’re no fun.”

  “Mik!” Carl hollered, from behind the bar.

  Mikala appeared at the office door with a stack of old magazines in her arms and plopped them down looking rather frazzled. “What now, Carl?”

  Carl thumbed to his right towards the club entrance. “Don’t bite my head off, the insurance inspector is here, he says he needs to look around.”

  “Sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to be a bitch, I can’t help myself lately.”

  “Mmm…” Carl hummed, and went back to arranging bottles under the counter.

  The man standing at the door was new to Mikala, she was sure she hadn’t dealt with him before, but somehow he seemed familiar. Dressed all in black from head to toe, she admired his designer suit and questioned in her head, the size of paycheck an insurance inspector would pull. He had dark hair and eyes to match with heavy black rimmed glasses and a deep scar at the corner of his mouth extending midway across his cheek.

  Landon stood several feet away and nodded to Mikala when she turned to make sure he was there. His presence made her feel a whole lot better when strangers came around, her nerves were on constant alert, and the headache that ripped through her head was a constant reminder that she was stressed to the max.

  “Where would you like to start Mr.…?” she asked, waiting.

  “Jones,” he replied, as he scribbled at papers on a clipboard. “Top floor I suppose. We can work our way down from there.”

  Mikala concluded, because his quiet voice was somewhat familiar, she had to have had dealings with him and felt a minute bit more relaxed.

  “I will have Landon take you up, I can’t…”

  “Fine,” he snapped, as he moved to the stair with Landon in toe, before she could finish her sentence.

  “Asshole,” she murmured, while heading to the third floor, taking the elevator instead of climbing the stairs in heels.

  The long corridor housing the private rooms reminded her of a hallway in an apartment building, with burgundy scroll patterned carpet and plain taupe color walls. Each door bore a brass nameplate instead of a number and above each door sat a hidden camera disguise
d to look like a light fixture. She played in her mind how to explain the rooms as she heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

  Mr. Jones opened the first door he came to before Mikala had a chance and stepped inside. To her relief, the room was nothing more than four blank walls and hardwood floors. The decorators had not begun to apply the themed mural and paint, and the furniture was not scheduled for delivery until two weeks from Friday.

  As they entered the last of the six rooms, Mr. Jones asked without taking his eyes from the clipboard, “What are these rooms delegated for?”

  “Guest accommodations,” she quickly answered, glancing over at Landon, who was scowling in Mr. Jones’ direction.

  “Running a hotel now? I don’t see anything in regards to licensing for hotel rooms,” he said, fanning through his many papers.

  “No. These are simply rooms where patrons can stay, if they’ve had a few too many drinks. Staff as well will be permitted to use these rooms for breaks or whatever.”

  “Whatever? What exactly would that mean, Miss Santino?” he met her glare for a moment, sending an uncomfortable shiver up her spine.

  “Meaning whatever,” she challenged him to probe further.

  “You do realize that instituting overnight guests will have a major impact to how we calculate your insurance? Liability and accident insurance will definitely apply as well as theft and special content, it could be quite costly. You should perhaps reconsider.”

  “You should perhaps not let the door smack your ass on the way out,” Mikala mumbled under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest standing defiant. “I know what’s involved, thank you.”

  Mr. Jones looked unscathed, as he flipped the papers on his clipboard over, tucking it under his arm. “Floor two, the club. Shall we?” he asked, and stood waiting.

  Mikala stepped in behind Mr. Jones and gazed around the room. It was as finished as it was going to be and she couldn’t help smiling at the results.

  A long rectangular mahogany bar, sat in the center of the room with available seating for at least twenty four all around it. Soft pacific blue crystals hung on the bar area ceiling with lighting at the tips, reminding Mikala of something seen in an ice castle. Nine intimate tables designed for four took up the rest of the space without making it cramped at all and the walls looked like they were surrounded by sheer draped windows, giving off a mysterious glow. The average Joe would walk in and see a simple meet and greet and the hidden business within the business would remain just that.