Page 118 of Pretender

“Go on.”

“Do we have security cameras in the clubs?”

“Not inside, that would be against our privacy policies. Why?”

“Just thinking they sometimes share photos that look like street CCTV footage. From the street outside The Orion.”

“Hmm, okay?”

“I asked the PI who it could be, but she said thousands of people can access the public CCTV, and it would be impossible to narrow down.”

“I’m sure she’s right.”

“But I could cross-reference the jobs that allow access to CCTV with our staff and clients and their families and then⁠—”

“Vic,” I say, my voice deep, and I’m narrowing my eyes as if he can see me.

“Boss.”

“I commend your enthusiasm, but stop. This is serious privacy-violation territory, and we’re not going to touch it. Do you hear me?”

Silence.

“Vic, don’t mess with private information.”

“I won’t, boss.”

“Good,” I say, opening the door to return to work. Linnea smiles at me from the hallway. “I appreciate your work on this, Vic. I’ll see you at Millefleuré on Thursday.”

“Bright and early,” he answers before we hang up and I put my phone away.

I step inside and find the beautiful woman I get to call mine, for real. She steps closer and brushes a hand down my forearm. She’s discreet at work, and I appreciate it despite wanting to press her up against the wall and tell everyone to get out.

“What’s happening at Millefleuré?” she asks, playing with my fingertips. “Will I not get to see you Thursday after all?”

“It’s in the morning. I’m just popping by the kitchen team to make sure they have everything they need. I like to do that once in a while.”

“And eat their leftover cheeses and saucissons?”

“And that.” I nod. Her eyebrows lift, and there’s a brightness in her eyes I can’t place.

“Is that why you knew your way around the kitchen so well?”

“Of course. Why else would I?”

“Why else would you, indeed,” she says, shrugging, grinning a bit too widely. It’s such a gorgeous face that everything else I was thinking before is gone. “Come get me when you’re ready to leave.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me, as subtle as a foghorn.

“Now. We go now,” I say and pull her close to me, making her laugh.

“Yours is closest.”

Last time we went to mine, we discussed our arrangement. I’ll never forget how tense I was when we rode up the lift together. How her scent was in my nose and I struggled to think straight. And that was before I grasped how I felt about her. At the time, I thought it was because I could sense her discomfort, but I know better now…

And this time, we don’t just stand there.

The second the lift doors close, Linnea jumps on me, and I grasp her thighs, pushing her dress up. I crash into the wall with her wrapped around me. Her mouth on mine—hungry, desperate. I love it. My tongue glides over hers and I nibble her bottom lip. When the lift opens, I hardly register it, just carrying her down the hallway, kissing and laughing all the way.

“I’m going to have to put you down to open the door.”