“Bizzy?” He tips his head back a notch.
“That’s just a nickname.”
On a credit card? He lifts his brows my way and I choose to ignore his private inquest.
“So, Dan, tell me a little about yourself.”
His eyes bulge wide a moment. Whoa. Did this chick just call me Dan? Crap. I didn’t tell her my real name, did I? I’d swear on everything I’ve got that I said Damien. I’d better steer clear of the whiskey. This girl is already getting to me in the worst way. If she wasn’t trying to land me like a 747, I might even think she was the one.
Land him?
I grimace at the thought.
I knew it. I never should have wiggled my shoulders. That’ll teach me for taking a page out of Macy’s playbook.
The lights begin to swirl overhead. It’s clear the show is about to start, but the atmosphere at the bar doesn’t cool. Instead, it only seems to heat up that much more as the bodies draw close to one another, the laughter grows darker, and bedroom eyes are running rampant.
“So, Damien”—I give a little wink—“tell me what brings you here tonight.”
His head ticks back a notch. Wow. She just called me Damien. It’s clear I’ve already screwed this up ten ways to Sunday. But what can I expect? It’s not like I’m a regular. It’s my first night on the job. But she doesn’t know that.
First night on the job? Well, I hope he knows enough to tell me something.
“What brings me here tonight?” A flirtatious smile floats on his lips. “Why I’m here for you. Anything you want.” His eyes linger over mine. “For as long as you want.”
“Drinks are ready.” The bartender honks from behind and I’m zapped out of the trance he was determined to pull me into. Why do I get the feeling all of the men around here are magicians?
Dan and I each pick up our whiskey and hold it close to our chest, neither of us appearing too determined to drink it.
His shoulders sag a moment and his features tense up as if he were breaking character.
“So tell me, Bizzy. What brings you here tonight?” he says it stern, and I can’t help but note an air of brotherly concern in his voice.
“Oh, I was just, you know—the show.” I shrug, unsure of what to say next. “And one of my friends mentioned something about the Collective.”
He gives a hard blink. And there it is. I was so willing to believe she was clueless about it. After another minute I would have wished her goodnight, walked away, and found another mark. A part of me still wants to do it. Why bring shame and humiliation to this sweet thing? She’s too pretty to be this desperate. But then, if I did that, she might just walk away and find another knucklehead to hit up, and who knows what he’ll do to her? He might just take her wallet and her body for a ride.
I gasp at the thought.
As if I’d ever let that happen.
His chest expands as he steps in. He’s so close I can practically taste his spicy cologne. Much spicier than anything Jasper wears. Just the smell of it makes my eyes water.
An applause breaks out and I glance to the stage to see the female magician standing in front of a table laden with colorful cakes in every shape and size. And is that… I squint over to see a gray-haired older gal with a yellow kaftan cramming her face in one of the frosted confections, eating as fast as she can, while her arms look as if they’re tied behind her back.
Figures. Georgie is having the time of her life.
That’s one thing about Georgie. You don’t have to wag a free cake in front of her for long before she takes action.
Dan steps before me, blocking my line of vision from the stage, and shakes his head as if he were slightly disappointed, his heavy eyes never leaving mine.
“So what really brings you to a place like this?” he says it softly, as if he were pleading for answers. “You seem like a smart girl. You’re beautiful. You don’t strike me as someone who can’t get a man.”
“Can’t get a man?” I inch back. “Why would you say that?”
A breath hitches in my throat. That’s not a part of the Collective, is it?
“Look, I didn’t mean it as an insult.” All right. I’ve ticked her off. The last thing I want to do is wound her ego. But if she pulls the ripcord, there isn’t any going back. “Of course, you can get a man.”
My heart begins to race, because for the life of me, I have no idea what’s happening here. Does he want my wallet or me? Right about now, it sounds like both. I’d better play along. This show isn’t going to last forever. And the last thing I want is to go home with more questions than I came with. If he doesn’t start talking, that’s exactly what’s going to happen.
“I don’t want any man.” My lips quiver at the thought of what I’m about to say next. “I want you. Now tell me what the rules are. I need you to define the Collective for me.”
Define the Collective? A dismayed look crosses his face.
He tips his head my way. “It’s pretty cut and dry, don’t you think?”
“I bought you a drink. Tell me what comes next.” The words come out breathier than I anticipated, but I blame the tight dress and this insane buildup of anticipation. I can’t stand the not knowing. Why isn’t his mind blabbing all the answers? “You know.” I give his tie a gentle tug. “What happens after I buy you a drink?”
“You have a second location in mind?” If she says yes, it’s a go. He sighs as if he were dreading what came next.
“A second location?” I shake my head as I try to figure it
