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Jack would be running facial recognition throughout the night getting IDs on anyone who was captured on the small camera disguised as a button on my shirt. Which meant Jack had heard and seen everything I’d said to Atlee in the closet. If he was smart, he’d never mention it. But I knew that hope was fruitless. Jack was going to jump on that and give me shit. For some strange reason I couldn’t find it in me to care. Ensuring Atlee was safe and untangling her from the mess she’d found herself in was all that was important.
Tonight, I’d convince her to call in sick for the rest of the week. Or better yet, get her to go back to Idaho where I could put Rhode and River on her.
In the coming days, Asher would be joining me. Mia was a wildcard. Now that Catarina was playing Martin, I might need Mia to step in as backup. It wasn’t ideal, but Mia was smart and capable. She’d spent years around domestic abuse victims; she knew how to spot a predator and would have my back.
“What can I get you, handsome?” the bartender purred.
I swiveled to locate the bottles of liquor on display. I spotted the Double Eagle Very Rare in the signature crystal decanter with the eagle stopper.
“Eagle Rare.”
The bartender knew better than to ask if I wanted ice or a water back. Anyone caught diluting the eighteen-thousand-dollar bourbon should be hung.
She placed the tulip-shaped Glencairn glass on the polished walnut bar top and waited for her tip. I pulled a hundred-dollar bill from my pocket and laid it on the bar.
She smoothly confiscated her tip and smiled. “Thanks, gorgeous.”
I went back to taking in the room.
It was far too ostentatious for my liking. Luxury gone bad. All flash with copious marble and flamboyant furnishings. The perfect venue for a man who was flexing his wealth.
“Enjoying yourself?” Eden Dunhill inquired from beside me.
That hadn’t taken long.
Ms. Dunhill was Martin’s assistant. That was, if an assistant vetted potential buyers. She was known to be shrewd and smart and vicious with the women when they didn’t fall in line. It was rumored she oversaw Martin’s stable of hookers. Which meant she was there to watch over her girls as they serviced the guests as well and hand out invitations to the auction.
“That’s yet to be seen,” I replied then needlessly introduced myself. “Wilson Barker.”
Eden would’ve already run a background check on me before she approached.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Barker. Is there something I can do for you to ensure your evening is what a man…” She carefully eyed me, her gaze falling to the bourbon, “…of your tastes expects?”
The noting of the bourbon was for show as was my perusal of the women on offer. None of them could hold a candle to Atlee’s beauty.
“And you are?”
“Mr. Jackson’s assistant, Eden.”
I let my gaze dip to her cleavage.
“Pleasure, Eden.”
“It could be very pleasurable, Mr. Barker.”
Well, fuck me, I hadn’t expected that.
“I’m sure you’re correct. However, I don’t mix business and pleasure. Unless, of course you’re on offer.”
I held her gaze, making sure she understood my meaning. Her normally brown eyes were hidden beneath colored contacts making them green. Her appearance tonight was a far cry from the average-looking woman I’d seen in pictures. She was prettier without the makeup and fake eyelashes.
“Alas, I am not.” She mock frowned.
“I’m not in the market to rent.”
“Ahh,” she hummed. “Then I’ll leave you to enjoy your bourbon and the show.”
“It is a damn fine bourbon.” I paused to take in the room. My gaze stopped on a couple near the pool. A woman on her knees between the legs of an older man, head bobbing, obviously giving him a blow job. “And the show’s not half bad.”
