The front of the lounge is all glass, from floor to ceiling, although there are heavy blue velvet drapes hanging on either side. In front of the glass panel are two raised platforms with cushions the size of a small bed. Up one level are club chairs and small tables. Where we are standing there are a few bar stools and a good sized metal cart with glasses and bottles of liquor. There’s no music inside the room, but the vibrations of club music can be felt under our feet.
“What can I get you to drink?” Tad asks positioning himself by the beverage cart. Ian turns to me with a raised eyebrow.
“Singapore Sling?” I’m not sure if I should be asking Tad to mix me a drink but since he asked, I’m not going to be shy. I figure I’m going to need a few drinks before the night is over.
He presses a button near the cart and says, “Singapore Sling and the new reserve.”
“Right away, Mr. Kaga,” a voice on the other side responds with alacrity.
“Uncorking a new barrel?” Ian asks with genuine eagerness in his voice.
“Eighteen years old with a little spice and cherries along with vanilla. I think you’ll like it.”
“Kaga’s family is the largest beverage company in the world and makes some of the best single malt whiskeys on the market,” Ian explains, settling into one of the velvet-covered club chairs on the second level. He draws me down on top of his lap and wraps his arm around me, his hand finding a resting place at the top of my left thigh. I squirm, a bit uncomfortable at this intimacy in front of a stranger, but his hand clamps down to still my movements.
“We are but a blip on the map compared to the holdings of Kerr, Inc.” Tad says dryly.
“Don’t let him kid you, Tiny.” Ian stretches out his legs. A knock on the door brings our drinks, which Tad carries over to the table. He settles into a chair next to Ian and hands out the drinks. “His money is older than the United States and probably enough to buy a few territories.”
The Singapore Sling tastes refreshing with only a hint of sweetness, a perfect combination.
“Usually guys are all about showing who’s got the biggest of everything, but the two of you are arguing about how the other guy’s bank account is fatter. This is the weirdest kind of dick posturing I’ve ever seen.” I shake my head and take another sip. Tad and Ian both pause and then roar with laughter.
“Where did he find you?” Tad asks, wiping from his eyes the tears his gut laugh produced.
I look at Ian for guidance as I say, “Mutual acquaintance.”
“No secrets from Tad,” Ian says. “Tiny is Malcolm Hedder’s stepsister.”
This revelation causes Tad to look at me with speculation. “So you aren’t together? This is all for show?” He leans toward me to grab my hand, but Ian blocks him.
“Yes, for show,” I say.
“Not for show. We’re together,” Ian replies at the same time.
“We’re together,” he repeats, giving me a hard look and a firm squeeze on the thigh.
I’m not one for arguing in public or doing much of anything in public, so I press my lips together even though I’m dying to give Ian a piece of my mind.
I settle for, “It’s complicated.”
From the owner’s lounge, I can see the entire dance floor. Kaga presses a button and the plate glass turns into a viewing screen showing eight different security feeds. He selects one feed and zooms so that it overlays the other video. The security camera is focused on a well-kept man in his forties. I recognize him instantly as Richard Howe, my target. Forcefully I push away from Ian and after a bit of a struggle he lets me go.
“Is this the source of your complication?” Kaga asks. I nod but my eyes are glued to Howe. He’s leaning over the second floor balcony, holding a small tumbler in his hand. There’s a beautiful brunette standing very close to him. As we watch, she flips her hair across her shoulder a few times in a flirtatious gesture. They keep talking, and after a moment we see them exchange phone numbers.
Howe takes a picture of the woman and then they pose together for his camera.
“What does he tell his wife?” I ask, genuinely curious.
“Some say that she knows and doesn’t care. Others believe she has no idea. This is a rather different crowd than Cecilia Montgomery Howe would associate with.”
“Too old?”
“Too poor,” Kaga answers dryly. Ian has been silent as I observe Howe, wanting—I suppose—for me to draw my own conclusions. How does he do it? If I saw him flirting with another woman, even knowing it was a charade, I’d be jealous and hurt. How can he keep everything so separate?
“You want me to go over there tonight and get his phone number?” I ask Ian.
For a long moment he doesn’t respond and then in a tone so low I can barely hear him, he replies, “No. I don’t want that.”
In one swift motion, he rises and hurls the whisky glass at the side wall. “Sorry,” he mutters and then walks out. I’m frozen by the display of violence and more confused than ever. Kaga catches my arm when I turn to chase after him.
“Give him a minute.”
Nodding, I allow Kaga to lead me to a chair.
“Richard Howe is a charming, likeable man,” Kaga says. “And he wields those traits like a weapon. People do things for him that they wouldn’t ever do for another. And behind him, he leaves a trail of ruined lives, broken hearts, and . . . orphaned boys.”
Orphaned boys.
My character was set at the age of fifteen.
I look toward the rear of the room where Ian exited. This Howe thing was personal to him. It wasn’t just about some “friend.” Someone closer to Ian got hurt by Howe. And now he is struggling between his feelings for me and his desire for revenge.
“Some say that the elder Howe’s candidacy rests on Richard keeping his nose clean for the three months until the primary voting is closed. His primary voters want to see an intact family because that’s part of Howe’s platform. In the general election, it won’t matter as much.”
“I don’t see how a cheating scandal is going to make a big difference.”
“It might not to a lot of people, but it would matter to Richard Howe’s father. Ian wants to separate Richard from everyone else.”
I frown. “I’m supposed to attract Howe? I’m too old.”
“You’re with Ian. That’s enough.”
“What do you mean?”