“You should leave,” he said firmly. “This is the mens’ change room.”
Farah pouted and he didn’t trust her to go without a concession. “I don’t want to go without you. Come dancing with me!” She started to dance in the locker room and Pierce realized she could have her pick of partners. She spun back to face him, tossing that curtain of hair over her shoulder. “Please?”
“If you’re still in the lobby when I’m dressed, we can talk about it,” he ceded, knowing he had to find out what she wanted from him.
Farah’s smile lit the room.
Of course. She thought she’d won.
“A man after my own heart,” she said and catapulted herself toward him. Her hands framed his face, then she was kissing his cheeks in rapid succession the way her mother would have done. She spun away, leaving him staggering, and strutted across the locker room. The men stood back to let her pass, as if she was starring in a music video.
She turned at the doorway and blew Pierce a kiss. “Don’t you dare keep me waiting,” she warned in a provocative growl, then smiled and continued out of the change room.
Evidently, she now made showy exits as well as entrances.
One of the other men gave a low whistle. “Cool as a cucumber,” he said, shaking his head at Pierce. “I would have lost it when she leaned against me.”
“Maybe she’s not his type,” another suggested with a wink.
“I’ll step in. I like to dance,” a third said and they laughed together as Pierce quickly dressed. He didn’t have time to take out his contacts, much less to shave. He needed to meet Farah before she made more trouble—just because she was bored.
“Look at that,” the first man said. “Record time. Pierce isn’t as disinterested as he’d like us to believe.” They laughed together but Pierce just smiled politely as he grabbed his gear and headed for the lobby.
Then he realized his mistake.
Jacquie.
The dark-haired woman who emerged from the corridor to the locker rooms looked like a supermodel or a movie star. She was gorgeous and dressed to the nines, every inch of her buffed to a shine. Jacquie couldn’t help but stare.
It was hard to believe she was real at all, but she passed by Jacquie in a haze of expensive and sultry perfume that was definitely not imaginary. The reflection of the light on her gems was dazzling and Jacquie wondered whether they were real. As the younger woman passed the reception desk, she flung her fur coat over her shoulders, drawing the fluffy white collar around her face. The receptionist Raylene stared, her hand frozen in the act of lifting a spoonful of gelato to her lips, then looked at Jacquie in silent amazement.
What was she even doing at F5F? This kind of woman should be at a society event, the opening of a Broadway play, or a lavish party with an exclusive guest list. Maybe she was a friend of Theo’s partner, Lyssa, but at this hour, Lyssa and Theo would be home in their apartment overlooking Central Park. The coat alone was incredible. Fox or lynx? Maybe arctic wolf. It wasn’t anything so mundane as rabbit. Certainly not fake fur. Everything about the woman screamed money.
Big money.
Was she lost? She didn’t look like she needed directions. She marched across the lobby on those sky-high heels with definite purpose.
Visiting someone maybe. But who? Jacquie watched her, mystified.
It was only when the woman reached the doors to the street that Jacquie realized there was a gold Mercedes hard-top convertible parked illegally at the curb just outside the club. The young woman took something out of her small glittery purse and held it up. The lights flashed on the car, proving that it was hers.
A member lunged across the lobby from the rock wall to open the door for her and the woman gave him a smile for his efforts. He stood there, stunned, so it must have been more than enough. She swept into the night and toward the driver’s side of the car, then looked expectantly over the roof of the car and back at the club.
She was waiting for someone.
Jacquie turned, following her glance, just as Pierce appeared. He grimaced but didn’t slow down. He also looked flustered, which was interesting in itself. “Sorry,” he said gruffly to Jacquie without slowing down. “It turns out I have a commitment, after all.”
“So, I see.” Jacquie kept her tone carefully neutral. He clearly thought she would be fine with that and she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of showing her disappointment.
Even if that kiss had left her yearning for more.
“I thought you had no kids.” She couldn’t keep herself from commenting after he’d passed her and she liked that his step faltered, just a little.
The back of Pierce’s neck reddened above the collar of his leather jacket and he froze for a heartbeat before glancing back. His gaze was intense. “Daughter of a friend,” he said, studying her as if he sensed her disapproval. He should. Jacquie wasn’t making any effort to hide it.
She disliked when men dated women half their age—or less. It showed them as shallow and self-absorbed, and often indicated that they needed control over their partner. Jacquie never thought that the women got much from such pairings.
“Another time, maybe?” Pierce asked and she bristled.
He wasn’t going to have his cake and eat it, too.
“Maybe not,” she replied, letting her voice harden. She didn’t blink or avert her gaze. She didn’t make any accusations but if his taste was for women like this one, there was absolutely nothing for them to talk about.
“It’s not what it seems,” he began, raising
