Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 73506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 73506 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 368(@200wpm)___ 294(@250wpm)___ 245(@300wpm)
I need to make this a good one.
"Long Island iced tea, please, with a wedge of lemon.” All the alcohol and no dilution, please.
I take my drink to the corner of the club that’s vacant and hidden. I tell myself that no one notices I'm here. But I know that if Ricco is here, he'll find me. He has a sharp eye, and I have a feeling he doesn't let anyone out of his sight. I don't know if I want to see him or not, and I'm battling guilt because I think I might be more curious about Ricco's role here than finding out who killed my husband.
Nick died three months ago. Ricco said he’s only recently returned… but even if he wasn’t here, maybe he knows who was?
I stand within the tall arched doorway to the main area of the club, my heart racing as I survey the unconventional environment before me. The air is thick with a heavy mix of desire and anticipation, and something else… something I can't quite put my finger on. It isn't quite joy, it isn't quite happiness, it's something more like a deep sense of belonging. The throbbing beat of the music doesn’t quite mask the sounds of conversation and laughter echoing off the walls. A shiver runs down my spine, a mixture of apprehension and determination coursing through me. Will I find out more details about next steps?
Despite the blonde wig, glasses, and shoes with lifts that make me taller than I’ve ever been, I still feel like myself. I still fear someone will know who I am.
I make my way further into the club, careful to only go in the places well marked for visitors so I don't draw attention to myself. My eyes take in scenes that would normally leave me blushing. Couples dancing sensually, their bodies entwined together and moving in rhythm with the seductive music that fills the air. Couples openly kissing and engaging in displays of affection that would’ve made me flush even when I was in college. My cheeks heat as the nerves in my body awaken. I've been without good sex for so long, I've almost convinced myself that I am asexual.
Ha.
Until Ricco walked into my studio and brought what was dormant back to life.
The scent of candles and incense wafts through the air, intermingling with the unmistakable scent of desire. There's no way any club in Boston allows candles to be lit, but then I realize there are diffusers, and flameless candles in sconces. My gaze remains focused as I discreetly observe the clubs’ patrons, searching for any hint of information, anything that might shed light on Nick’s mysterious death.
I hear his voice before I see him. I turn away from the sound of that deep vibration with a husky, masculine edge to it.
“I’m proud of you,” he says. Instant jealousy floods me. Who is he proud of?
Why is no one ever proud of me?
I risk a sidelong glance toward the sound of Ricco’s voice.
My gaze locks onto a figure that sets my heart to stuttering. I know that tall, dark-haired man, that air of confidence and authority, that dominating presence. I swallow, hard, torn between my professional objective and the lure of my feelings. My mind races, and I'm battling feelings of guilt and raw, animalistic desire. What is Ricco going to do when he sees me here?
I take a step back. Oh my God. Why has it never occurred to me that he isn’t single? He’s a client, no more, no less, a client with the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard. But I’m lonely and needy and realize I must’ve let my imagination get the best of me.
My throat tightens, and tears blur my vision. I didn't even cry when I buried Nick. What is going on with me? Ricco leans in, talking to a beautiful, stunning redhead. He smiles and puts his arm around her shoulders in an almost… friendly way.
Please tell me you're just friends. Please.
As I watch him with her, they pull apart.
"Vivia!" somebody next to me yells out. A large man, who looks a lot like Ricco, gestures to her from the doorway. The redhead waves and walks over to him.
Ricco's eyes meet mine. I quickly look away.
Will he know who I am in disguise? Will he recognize me?
I don’t want to risk it. I turn away but can see him stalking my way. I don't know if I want a confrontation with Ricco right now; I need to get out of here. I don't want to deal with the tug-of-war between my attraction to Ricco and my need for answers. The lines between my competing personal desires and professional obligations blur, leaving me confused and conflicted.
I need to get out of here.
But I can’t.
I don’t know what kinds of strings Jason pulled for me to get in here and I may never be able to get back in. I need to find what I’m looking for, and then get the hell out of here.