Twisted Tides (Forged Hearts #2)

Chapter Five

Chapter Five

JAMESON

“Lazy Eye” by Silversun Pickups

I sit alone in the bar, waiting for Dax to arrive. He said that he would meet me here straight after work. I glance at my watch, knowing he should be coming through those doors any minute.

I called him up because I wanted to talk to him about Emma. I thought we had a connection, and when I left her place that night after partying at Eduardo’s club, I had suspicions that he was into her. I saw him at her apartment after she sent me home insisting that she was okay and didn’t need anyone, but what she meant was anyone other than Eduardo.

I saw their bodies close together as I peered up, looking into her living room window from the parking lot like a stalker. I could’ve blamed it on the alcohol or my mind playing tricks on me, but I hadn’t had much to drink. Any lingering effects of alcohol had vanished while ensuring Emma was okay at the club. If I hadn’t forgotten my wallet and tried to return to her apartment after she insisted that I go home, I would have never known she was into him.

After college, we stayed close. I worked and continued to work with Eduardo on projects at his club. He helped me once to start up my business. I know the ins and outs of his club. Some are legit, and others are not so legit, but he pays me well for my security work there, so I can’t complain. I know him enough to realize that his money comes from the Mexican cartel, or at least some of it. Not that I would come out and ask him, but it is pretty obvious.

Deep in thought, I am about to sip my drink when a hand clasps me around the shoulder. “Why does it look like your fuckin’ dog died, brother?” Dax drops into the seat next to me.

Before I can answer him, the waitress, Simone, saunters toward us, her breasts up close and personal. She clearly has a thing for Dax.

“Hey, handsome. What can I get you to whet your lips?”

I groan in aggravation.

She cocks an eyebrow upward to be sexy, but it has the opposite effect. Honestly, Dax and I have commented that ‘less is more’ regarding women and their makeup application. Still, with her painted-on eyebrows, heavy eyeshadow, and red lipstick, she looks like the Joker from Batman.

“I’ll take a Stella beer.” He tips his head in my direction. “Jameson, are you ready for another one?”

I swig back the rest and nod, placing the empty bottle on the table for her to take. “Yeah, I’ll take another. Why not?”

She picks it up and nods in acknowledgment.

I think about how to bring this up when Dax interrupts my thoughts.

“You okay, bro?”

Before I can answer, Simone is back with our drinks. I wipe my hand down my face and just want her to hurry the fuck up and leave so that I can chat with Dax. She pours my drink in a frosted glass this time, and I wait patiently, trying not to rip the bottle from her hand.

This time, for fear of being interrupted again, I blurt it out. “I think Emma is fucking around with that guy Eduardo,” I release all in one breath.

Dax’s eyebrows pinch together in confusion. “Your frat brother?” I nod. “He told us they met in the emergency department, something similar to you and Liv, but she is on his radar now. I don’t know if I want to even attempt to compete with him.”

Dax shrugs. “You don’t know for sure, right?”

I shake my head. “No, he is fucking her.” I explain what happened and how his Porsche was parked outside after I left.

He seems to think this over and reluctantly agrees there was something there between them that night. “There was chemistry there,” he comments, and then, before he elaborates, he seems to second-guess himself but decides to continue, “a familiarity perhaps.” He strokes his lip as if thinking about something or someone else.

“Liv had mentioned it to me and something about flowers he sent her recently. I just thought I should let you know.”

I smile half-heartedly at his reluctance to betray Liv’s trust. “Thanks, man. I appreciate you having my back. It’s just weird, though. I thought we had this connection. I can’t explain what I feel for her. I want to protect and keep her close, but this one moment we had at the beach during spring break was… awkward? I can’t find the word to describe it.” Frustrated, I run my hand through my hair and can’t explain it, so I stop trying.

“You know what you need, Jameson?” Dax looks at me smugly. “You need to go out and get laid. Why don’t you go to The Viceroy and use the full perks of the VIP card Eduardo gave you?”

This does perk me up a little bit. “Yeah, that sounds great. Do you care for a little excitement tonight? You can be my wingman.” I rub my hands together in anticipation of how this will go down as I drink the rest of my beer, ready to leave, and head to the club.

Dax hesitates, avoiding eye contact. His hand rubs the back of his neck, and he looks at me sheepishly. “Well, I can’t go because Liv and I are together now.”

I look at him, stunned. “She’s your girlfriend?”

Dax nods in confirmation and he fucking beams. The guy seems so happy, and I can’t blame him.

“I’m happy for you.” I clap him on his back and throw some bills on the table.

“Where are you going, Jameson?” I hear Dax ask as I start to walk away.

I smirk, eyes alight with mischief. “To find my happy ending.”

After going home to change into attire more fitting for The Heavenly Pearl, the exclusive membership-only sex club within Eduardo’s dance club, The Viceroy, I enter through the discreet, private entrance that can only be accessed by using a card pressed into a scanner.

Upon entering, a hostess stands at a desk, much like at a hotel. For safety reasons, she checks my card in the system to show the times I’ve been there, and my fingerprint must be placed on the small scanner to accept my entry.

Members must comply with all the rules as exceptions are rarely granted. Then, when the hostess lets them pass through the second set of doors, the bouncer takes their phone, checks them for anything that isn’t allowed in the club, and bags it for them. They get their items when they check out.

It all seems pretty straightforward, focusing solely on client safety. If you have to wonder if an item is allowed, then more than likely it isn’t, so I don’t bring anything that isn’t essential.

I watch with rapt attention to see if anything is amiss during the intake process, but it runs flawlessly, and I smile. I was given a membership after I helped establish a security protocol for this place and ensured the members’ privacy and, above all, the patron’s safety. I can’t say I always use this privilege, but I am grateful for times like these where I can let loose. The membership fee is expensive, but Eduardo wouldn’t let me pay, so I likely wouldn’t be here otherwise. I’m not ultra-rich like they are, even though my business does well for someone my age.

The idea of working for someone in a cubicle would have driven me mad, so when I approached Eduardo with my business venture before graduation, he was only too happy to invest in my start-up. Unfortunately, having him as a business associate means I know of his dealings—some legal and some not so legal—although I only participate in the legal ones he maintains on his own.

I’m no fool. I know where the money comes from; I just choose not to involve myself in that side of things, and I’m not sure Eduardo would let me even if I was given the opportunity.

Pulled away from my thoughts, I see a woman with a long trench coat, and I can only imagine what is underneath that. I take her in from head to toe as her long black hair swings back and forth like a thick mane in a ponytail worn high on her head. I gaze downward as she walks in front of me. Her black leather boots disappear underneath it, and I can imagine the point of her heel pressing into my chest as she stands above me. We walk in one after another and I watch her walk straight to the bar.

My mask is firmly in place, as is everyone else’s, since it is a requirement for entry into the club. I follow her swaying hips as she perches on a seat and begins to talk to another woman beside her.

It would be more tempting if her hair were blonde, but it’s dark here anyway. I’ve never really been attracted to women with dark hair. I have nothing against brunettes, but I have a thing for blonde hair. I go to the bar and order a drink.

I look around at all the scantily clad women. Ironically, women don’t have to wear much and are not required to have memberships here. If they are vetted online, they can come, providing proper documentation showing proof of identity, a formal orientation to the club along with non-disclosure agreements that must be signed, and, most importantly, providing test results of no STIs. All of that is done online before their first visit.

The mutual requirement is that everyone must wear a mask. Some people like their identity to remain anonymous. I don’t have a problem with that. Sometimes, it’s better not to form attachments. I frown, pondering my words filtering through my head.

I turn sideways to get through a few people talking in clusters and hail the bartender over, ordering an old-fashioned. One thing I love about this place is that they make a mean old-fashioned.

I move my hand, and it lands accidentally on a woman’s shoulder. I feel a jolt, as if I have been burned as her face whips around to see who dared touch her. That’s when her jade-green eyes land on mine, and I’m suddenly bewitched.

I attempt to look away, but her hypnotizing almond-shaped eyes are captivating, and I want to yield to her every whim. As she narrows them on me, I zone in on the yellowish coloring around the pupil, causing the remainder of her green eyes to appear brighter. The tempestuous emerald green is so striking that I could drown in it for days.

I look at her, speechless, trying to form a coherent thought, and I see her lip twitch in amusement.

Way to play it cool, Jameson , I think to myself.

“Hi.” That is all I can come up with.

She coolly picks up her amber-colored liquid on the rocks and sips it, eyeing me up and down. I wonder if she likes what she sees. I wait for her to say anything in return, perhaps tell me a ‘hi’ back, but she doesn’t. She just stares, and I suddenly feel like my mouth is as dry as a desert, and I know without a doubt that I am thoroughly fucked.

“Do you come here often?” I inwardly groan at the thought of what I just asked.

Her eyebrows lift in shock as a smile plays on her lips.

Okay, that’s strike two. “What’s your name?” I groan aloud this time and run my hand through my hair, wishing I could recover from my mortification.

She puts her drink down and turns toward me this time to address me fully.

She seems to size me up and crosses one muscular leg over the other. I bite my lip inwardly, begging my expressions not to betray my immense attraction to her. Her black leather corset and mini skirt squeak as she moves.

“I thought the purpose of this club was anonymity. Is it not? You know, the masks and all.” Her hand makes a movement, mimicking a circle around her face.

She doesn’t seem irritated by my line of potentially offensive questions, but I can sense she is as leary of me as she should be. She doesn’t know who I am, and I think I might have blown my chances at getting to know her, even if it is for just tonight. I ponder on how to answer the question, and I know that she will be able to sense bullshit a mile away, so I decide to go for the truth.

“Yes.” I nod in agreement. “I want to know what I should call you.”

She leans a little farther into my personal space. Her scent permeates the air; I smell a mixture of spicy vanilla and bourbon. I close my eyes, trying to remain unaffected while waiting for her response.

She seems to think about it and looks me in the eye, leaning over as if she is going to tell me a secret. “You can call me Eve.”

I repeat the name softly, and the one syllable rolls off my tongue easily.

“Eve.” I chuckle at her response, shaking my head. “I take it that’s not your real name?”

Her eyebrows scrunch together, confusion marring her delicate features. “Why are you so insistent on knowing me?” she asks.

“I just…” I sigh, knowing I must try telling her the truth, even if everything in my mind tells me to be cautious. “Do.”

“I like Eve.” She searches my face for an expression that will give her a reason to walk away, but she won’t find one there.