by Livia Grant
“Fine. How do I sign up?” he finally relented.
“Really?” Spencer seemed genuinely surprised. “I never thought you’d say yes.”
“Well, do you want me to or not? I don’t like bullshit games.”
“Yeah, yeah. Settle down. Let me go get you a card with all of the details. You can sign up online from home later.”
Ryder didn’t answer. He didn’t have anything new to say. He instead turned away from the bar to take another look around the club. Being the Saturday night before Valentine’s Day, the place was busy, despite it being only seven o’clock. He suspected a few members would be heading upstairs in an hour to catch the Crushing Stones concert playing at Runway. He wondered if he’d see Cash Carter after the show, that is if he stuck around that long. He had it on good authority Cash was into the lifestyle.
The more he took in his surroundings, the more uncomfortable he got. Most likely due to the early hour, there was too much foreplay and socializing going on to suit him; people mingling, chatting, flirting. He could mingle with the best of them when his job called for it. Hell, he could literally charm the clothes off women if he put his mind to it. Single women. Married women. Tall. Short. Curvy. Skinny. Rich. Poor. Didn’t matter. It was one of the helpful side effects of his deep psychological training. Of course, the intention was to be able to get inside the heads of the world’s most dangerous criminals; to figure out what made them tick and then find the best way to neutralize them before they could endanger American lives. The fact that the skill also benefited him with the ladies was just a bonus.
Spencer had returned and placed a small card next to Ryder’s rocks glass.
“Don’t lose this. The info is confidential.”
Ryder swung back towards the bar, picking up the small card with just a website URL printed on it. He didn’t bother looking at his old friend to deadpan, “You forget what I do for a living?”
They’d served together years before. Even Spencer didn’t know what Ryder did exactly these days, or even for which branch of the government, but he was sure his old friend had a pretty good idea.
“Naw.” Spencer smirked. “I guess the secret is safe with you.”
“Damn straight.” Ryder picked up the card and slid it into the pocket of his black pants. “I’ll check it out, but you better promise me I won’t get stuck with some sugar-pop kinkster who’s only in it for a good-girl spanking from their ‘daddy’.”
Spencer chuckled. “I can’t promise anything. The wheel will pick your partner and your kink. If it’s too risky for you, maybe you should stay home and knit instead.”
“Smartass.” He downed the last of his drink before standing. “I’m gonna take a piss. I’ll try not to make anyone cry while I’m gone.”
Chapter 3
“Can you circle around the block again, driver?” Shit, she forgot his name.
“Of course, Miss Monroe.”
Runway dance club was only five minutes from the Hyatt hotel Khloe had been holed up in for over twenty-four hours, yet she’d been riding around in the hotel’s limousine for over twenty minutes.
I can’t chicken out now.
She peered down at the phone in her lap. Chase Cartwright’s contact info was already pulled up. She even had the text typed.
“Just hit SEND already,” she chastised herself out loud. The driver gave her an odd look in the rearview mirror. She finally pressed the button. Now she’d wait and hope. She wasn’t entirely sure he’d answer, not considering how she’d ended things between them years before.
As she waited, they turned the block to drive past the front of the club again. It was getting late enough that there was now a line of patrons lining up to get into the club. She hadn’t known when she’d booked the flight to come to D.C. that the Crushing Stones would be playing live at the club tonight. She suspected the venue would be packed and if she didn’t get in there soon, she might miss her chance.
“It’s looking pretty hectic, Miss Monroe. Shouldn’t you have a security detail with you?” The elderly driver was kind to be concerned.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine.” She wished she believed that herself. She was supposed to be at home in NYC where she didn’t need her detail with her. She’d given them the week off. She tried to convince herself while she answered the driver. “The club will have good security.”
In the ten minutes she waited for Chase to respond to her text, the crowd kept growing and now wrapped around the side of the building. She could see they were now letting VIP’s in the side entrance so she instructed the driver to get in the line of limos.
Too soon, it was her turn to exit her car.
Dammit Chase, why didn’t you answer me?
She pushed down her insecurities and put on her celebrity face that she promptly hid behind her sunglasses, despite it being dark outside. The door next to her opened and a Runway doorman held his gloved hand out to assist her from the car. Only when he’d already closed the limo door and her driver had driven away did he speak.
“May I see your invitation, miss?”
They were walking towards the revolving door marked VIP Entrance, but when she failed to answer him, her escort pulled them to a stop about a dozen feet short of the door.
“You do have a ticket for tonight’s closed event, right?”
Khloe took a deep breath and put on her best bitch tone. “I’m a close, personal friend of Mr. Cartwright’s. I’m sure he’ll be happy to invite me in for the show.”
The doorman appeared uncomfortable. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but the show has been sold out for weeks. If you’d like, I can flag you down a cab since your driver already left.”
She pushed down her panic. Despite what the gossip rags said about her, she hated confrontation. “Are you deaf? I told you Chase will be happy to see me.”
“Okay, let’s go see if your name is on the list at the door,” he offered, unwilling to deny her without checking.
They passed by a long line of people waiting to get into the main entrance around the corner. Each person gave her the evil eye as she was escorted past them to the front of the line.
“Jerry, this young lady says she’s a friend of Mr. Cartwright. Can you see if she’s on the entry sheet for tonight?”
Jerry looked skeptical. “Everyone I’ve been expecting already checked in for the pre-party. I’m sorry miss…”
While he’d been talking, Khloe took her sunglasses off and pinned the overweight guard with an expectant smile.
He finished his sentence. “Miss Monroe. One second please.” He turned away from her slightly and pressed the button on the microphone clipped to his coat lapel. “Blake, I need you at the VIP entrance, please. Blake to VIP entrance.”
While they waited in the blustery cold, patrons wearing all kinds of Crushing Stones shirts, sweatshirts and hats moved slowly by, now gawking at the recognized celebrity in their midst. Several paparazzi caught wind of her arrival and moved closer, calling out to her. She smiled, making the best of the situation and letting them snap their photos.
“Miss Monroe. We weren’t expecting you this evening.”
She turned to greet the tall man who must be Blake. “I didn’t realize it would be like trying to get into Fort Knox tonight. I’m just trying to see my old friend Chase Cartwright.” When she sensed he wasn’t going to be swayed, she pressed. “I wanted to surprise him.”
“Well we don’t care much for surprises, especially on concert nights,” he countered.
She contemplated leaving, but the thought of going back to the hotel room she’d spent the last twenty-four hours crying her eyes out in depressed her. She didn’t want to be alone with her gloomy thoughts again tonight.
She waited long enough for Blake to relent. “Okay, it’s crowded inside. Stick close.”
He led her through the revolving door. She noticed he didn’t stop to have her take her coat off at the coat check, but instead weaved through the socializing crowd, around tall cocktai
l tables and chairs and to the edge of the already crowded dance floor.
The music was pounding a heavy beat and the dancers were grinding to the DJ’s mix. She couldn’t hear what he said, but Blake shouted into the ear of a passing server who immediately weaved out to the center of the dance floor.
Through the gyrating bodies, Khloe caught her first glimpse of Chase. He had his back to her, but when he turned to stare in her general direction, she could see he and Jaxson had been sandwiching the curvy brunette she’d seen photographed with the men many times over the last year. Khloe stood by as the three of them conversed on the floor and when they all three turned to glare at her, she could see the irritation on the men’s faces. She also saw an emotion kin to fear emanating from their girlfriend.
Jaxson leaned in to talk into Chase’s ear and then finally Chase was moving towards her.
He was even more handsome than she remembered, all except the scowl on his face as he approached her. He leaned close to shout over the music.
“Khloe. What are you doing here?”
Not exactly the welcome she had imagined. “I was in town. I just wanted to see an old friend.”
“Bullshit. Why are you really here?” he pressed her.
An unexpected ache pressed on her chest, remembering how close they’d been at one time and knowing she’d been the one who’d rashly thrown it away. Maybe she should have stayed at the hotel. At least there no one would see her cry.
She swallowed the lump in her throat. She didn’t know how to verbalize why she was there. She didn’t really know herself. She just knew one thing.
“I’m sorry, Chase. I just… needed to see… a friend.” He blurred in front of her and it pissed her off. She needed to keep her cool.
“Since when are you and I friends, Khloe?” He paused, his trademark happy smile wiped away, a frown in its place. “Don’t you remember? You traded me in on the next bigger and better version many boyfriends ago. Why are you here slumming it with me, a mere model?”
She tried to rouse her anger. “Don’t be such a dick.”
“Don’t lie to me. Why me? Why now?”
Unexpected rage rolled off the man who never got angry. The crowd was pressing in on them and she felt Blake’s hand now on her right elbow as if he were ready to drag her out of the club. The paparazzi would have a field day photographing Khloe Monroe being thrown out of Runway, but that wasn’t even the main reason she wanted to stay.
She peered past Chase, back out to the dance floor and saw Jaxson and Emma were standing still in the middle of the dancing crowd, watching their lover with worry. Loving concern.
No one ever looked at her like that. Ever.
Blake had started to pull her away by the time she answered her ex-boyfriend in a rush. “Please, Chase. I have nowhere else to go. I just need…” She paused, and he waited. “I just need to be with real people tonight. Just one night.”
His eyes widened at her exclamation, staring at her until Blake started pulling her away again. She fought to maintain eye contact with Chase as they got farther apart. She was relieved when he took off after them.
“Blake! Hold up.” When he’d caught up, he shouted at them. “Wait here,” before turning and weaving through couples back out to the dance floor. The three lovers got close together, Chase talking to them before all three of them turned to stare at her. She held her breath until she saw Jaxson nod. The chill of his glare made her shiver.
Chase returned and addressed Blake. “Miss Monroe will be my guest tonight, Blake.” The rest of his comments were sent her way. “But let me be clear, Khloe. It’s one night, and if you do or say anything to upset Jaxson or Emma, you’re out of here. Got it?”
His eyes danced with a hypnotic passion as he talked of his lovers. She recognized it as love. An emotion she’d never seen in his eyes when he had spoken of her. She pressed down the depressing jealousy to answer with a simple, “Thanks.”
They weaved through the crowd back towards the coat check, stopping several times for Khloe to sign autographs and take selfies with fans excited to see one of their favorite actresses. Chase then led her towards the grand circular staircase that led to the second floor of the club. Her stiletto heeled boots clinked on the glass stairs, the neon lighting marking the way.
As they neared the top, the music grew a bit softer and the space was much less crowded. Rather than close-together tables and chairs, the second story was comprised of about a dozen seating arrangements where couches and comfortable chairs were organized for small groups of friends to gather together and enjoy each other’s company. Chase led her to the railing overlooking the huge stage and runway below.
“This is the VIP floor. We don’t allow photographers or the press up here without an invitation and escort.”
She relaxed slightly at the news, happy to have some privacy with Chase. But the privacy was short lived when she saw Jaxson and Emma arriving at the top of the stairs and heading their way. Khloe leaned in to talk softly to Chase. “I thought we could maybe go somewhere private to talk.”
He cut her off, “Well, you thought wrong. You’re welcome to join our table, Khloe. Cash Carter’s wife will be here soon and will sit with us to watch the show. I’ll introduce you around, but let me be clear. You are a guest of ours, not mine. Understand?”
She nodded just as Jaxson and Emma arrived. The four of them stood awkwardly studying each other until Jaxson finally spoke. “Hello again, Khloe. Kind of an unexpected surprise seeing you again.”
She caught the annoyed peek Emma sent his way before the curvy woman stepped closer and stuck her hand out. “Don’t mind him. Nice to meet you, Miss Monroe. I’m Emma.”
“Khloe.” She answered as they shook hands. “Nice to meet you.”
“Emma!” They all swung to look at the woman shouting Emma’s name.
“Samantha!” Emma ripped her hand away quickly and took off running towards the brunette heading their way. It was easy to figure out it was Mrs. Cash Carter since the singer himself was following along behind his wife, a huge grin on his face.
Jaxson and Chase followed Emma, all of them leaving Khloe to stand awkwardly alone, deserted. As she watched the friends hugging and laughing good-naturedly, a fresh pang of loneliness invaded. She might be surrounded by crowds of people everyday, yet witnessing the warmth of what was clearly love and close friendship, it only brought her own life into focus that much clearer.
I shouldn’t have come here. I feel worse, not better.
She suspected they wouldn’t miss her if she left. Khloe moved in the direction she’d come in and was almost to the stairs when she felt a hand on her arm, holding her back.
“Where are you going so soon?” Chase swung her around. He looked worried.
“You were right, Chase. I shouldn’t have come here tonight.”
He looked like he might agree, but he instead tried to convince her to stay. “You’re here now. Stay. Meet Cash and Sam. Enjoy the show.”
“I can’t. I don’t belong here.” Her voice hitched with emotion. She needed to leave.
He pinned her with a serious glare. “Why did you really come?”
How could she explain it to him? She didn’t really understand it herself. He pressed her. “What happened to Dean? I thought you guys were hot and heavy?”
An emotional bark of laughter escaped as she tried to hold it together. “He slipped and fell.” She paused, “And his dick accidentally fell into our good friend Gloria.”
His eyes widened as he whistled in surprise.
She continued, “I was lucky enough to come home just in time to watch the finale from the door of my bedroom. In my apartment. On my birthday. Some kinda present, eh?”
A familiar softness she’d always loved slipped into his eyes. “I’m really sorry, Khloe. That sucks.”
“Yeah, it really does.” She looked away, embarrassed. Jaxson and Emma kept glancing their way, distracted by Chase being away from them. That’s when it hit h
er. All this time, she’d thought she’d had them figured out, but now she wasn’t so sure. “So what’s with you taking Jaxson’s seconds? I know you two are friends, but I was kinda hoping you’d be wanting to have someone of your own by now, instead of sharing with him.”
She half expected him to be angry at her words, but she never expected him to smile. “You haven’t been paying very close attention to the gossip rags.”
“Who believes anything they print?”
“Well, this time they got it right. Come on. You’ll see.” He took her elbow and pulled her back in the direction of the group of friends.
“Cash and Samantha, I’d like to introduce you to an old friend of mine, Khloe Monroe. Khloe, this is Cash and Samantha Carter.”
She shook the singer’s hand first and then his wife’s. “Nice to meet you both.”
“Well, I’m off. Take good care of my lady while I’m gone. I’ll catch you guys after the show. Your stage manager will have a heart attack if I don’t get backstage in the next few minutes.”
He stopped just long enough to plant a big kiss on his wife before swatting her ass playfully and turning to leave. The group headed to the couches in the middle that would have the best view of the show about to begin. Emma and Samantha sat together on one couch and Jaxson and Chase on another leaving the only chair for her to sit alone. The women were talking excitedly about their plans for Valentine’s Day the coming Tuesday.
Another day Khloe was dreading.
Jaxson interrupted them. “Ladies, do I need to remind you that you’re talking about a private event with non-members present?”
Both women’s eyes widened, worry seeping in.
Chase injected, “Hey, I have an idea. We’re down one woman for Roulette, aren’t we?”
Jaxson sent a glare his way, “Not you too?”
Chase was unfazed. “I’m serious. Just think about it for a minute. This might be a great solution.”
“It’s a terrible solution all the way around. She’s only here one night.” Jaxson was adamant.