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“How can you tell?” she asked curiosity forming in lines on the bridge of her nose.
“It’s all in the eyes.”
She shrugged. “Maybe she can be the one who changes your mind.”
Did she and Albert have a secret meeting about me or something? I didn’t understand everyone’s sudden interest in me settling down. “That’s never going to happen.”
“Why?” Her blue eyes met mine with an unexpected gentleness that nearly knocked me off my damn feet.
“B-Because,” I stuttered. Her eyes had a black ring around them, highlighting the sky blue and making them pop that much more. Something I had never noticed before.
“You deserve happiness, Nero. Just like Laurent and Franc.”
“I am happy.” I liked sex. I didn’t think there was anything wrong with that. My family called me a dog and a pig, but it never bothered me. Maybe I was more like the Roman emperor than I wanted to admit. He was known for his debauchery, and so was I. But unlike the lunatic emperor, I wasn’t hurting anyone. At least not intentionally.
“You should go handle that,” Lanes said. “The last thing you want is a scene.”
I turned toward Rebecca. Or was it Rachel? Shit. I was never good with names.
“Do you need me to play the family emergency call, or the other one-night stand? That one is always fun.” Excitement filled her tone, and her hands landed on the bar like she was ready to leap into action.
“I told you I don’t need your help.” The last time she played another one-night stand, she almost got decked in the face. I had felt guilty for a week when Lanes finally admitted she made friends with the woman afterward, and they bonded over a mixed drink down at Three Barrell Distilling.
“Until you do.” She bit her lip, her mouth lifting at the corners, and pushing her cheeks up. The smile faded, and those lines of curiosity formed on her brow again. “How do you know these women aren’t serial killers?”
Lanes watched entirely too much true crime documentaries.
“Most serial killers are men. While women tend to kill one man slowly over many, many years.”
“I could argue, but I think the punishment you have waiting at the other side of the bar is much worse.” Lanes paused the glass at her bottom lip. Her too blue eyes with the black ring peered over the rim. “Then again, maybe I should talk to that woman. Does she realize you could be a serial killer?”
“A serial killer? Me?” I scoffed. “In my family, I can’t even take a piss without everyone knowing. Do you know how hard it would be to hide a body and keep it a secret?”
Then again, by some miracle, I had managed to keep one secret from my family. They had no idea I spent my nights welding big pieces of metal into art. Or at least I thought it was art.
Lanes laughed, that loud, boisterous giggle of hers that eased the tension in my shoulders.
“Good point,” she said, before taking another sip of her wine. She didn’t have much left, and when she finished, she would leave like she always did. But I wasn’t ready for her to go. I wanted to ask her about her meeting with Laurent and Phoebe and what cake they were going to have at their wedding. Lainey’s cakes were the highlight of any event, and I wanted to know what I had to look forward to.
“Nero!” The stage five clinger all but barked. She waved a dainty hand in my direction and with a roll of my eyes to Lanes, I made my way to the woman. It was time I put an end to this so I could finish my conversation with Lanes.
“What can I do for you?” I purposely left the sweetheart off, but it took restraint as that endearment just naturally flowed from my lips.
“What took you so long?” she asked, eyelashes fluttering, reminding me of Lainey earlier. Though Lanes did it jokingly, and it was adorable. This poor woman looked like she had something in her eye. I was tempted to steer her toward the bathroom to check the mirror.
“I told you, we’re busy, and I’m shorthanded.”
“But you didn’t mind taking your time with that”—she waved her hand toward Lainey—“person.”
My head snapped to attention. I didn’t like her tone.
She leaned forward, resting her elbow on the bar and successfully hoisting her tits to the ceiling. “Why don’t you and I meet up after your shift?”
“Can’t,” I said and didn’t bother offering more of an explanation. With a woman like this, short and direct was best.
“If you’re playing hard to get, it’s only going to turn me on. I’m a woman who gets what she wants, and I don’t back down.”
“It’s going to be a long night.”
