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Angela shook her head vigorously. “Definitely not. I want to help you, it’s true. I want to be a partner you can rely on. But I also want to do this for myself.”
He searched her face before nodding. “Okay. I rely on you for my very sanity, Angel. Don’t forget it.”
Smiling, she replied softly, “I won’t. I promise.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
“Thanks again for doing this, Finn.” Angela had to shout to be heard over the music pumping through the club.
It was just past midnight and Finn had met her at the door as per their conversation earlier. It wouldn’t be believable if she had shown up to The Morgue by herself. And they were working with the assumption that Roman and a lot of his employees were recognizable. Because she had been antisocial most of her life, it didn’t leave many options for a clubbing buddy. And none that she could count on to be circumspect. It was Morrigan who suggested Finn, and Angela was very grateful that he said yes.
Finn grinned at her, bopping his head to the beat. “It’s no problem. I’ve been meaning to check this place out since it reopened.”
He was dressed in black jeans and a tight red T-shirt that made his ice-blue eyes pop. It also displayed his surprisingly muscular frame to perfection. He clearly worked out. His hair was messy in a deliberate way, and she wondered if she was going to spend the night beating off potential suitors with a stick.
“You actually enjoy this?” she yelled as they made their way to the bar and stood in line for a drink.
Finn laughed. “Not everyone is an introvert, Angela. I love to dance,” he said, moving his hips. “And this place is really cool.”
She agreed. She knew the place had been rehabbed by Midas and his club recently. It was all black and chrome with white and red accents. The tables were shiny metal, the dance floor had a stage area and poles, and the bar was a circle in the middle. As she looked around, she saw many familiar faces and tried her hardest not to give it away. She’d received a crash course in MC members—who were sprinkled around the club like fairy dust. If the fairy dust was made of tattoos and leather, she thought.
There were a bunch of Roman’s men around as well, but his inner circle was behind closed doors. It was fortunate he trusted the Midas Touch MC so much. She felt as safe as she could. The tracking and listening devices attached to her and Finn helped, too.
As if reading her mind, Finn leaned closer and murmured, “I can’t believe I’m wearing a wire. It’s very James Bond.”
Angela snorted. “I hope you still think it’s cool when a criminal accosts us later.”
He shrugged, moving forward in the line but keeping an eye on everything around him. “I’m no stranger to criminals,” he confessed, surprising her. “Besides, you aren’t either these days. Shacking up with the Rebel Mafia Prince.”
“You’re lucky Roman isn’t close to hear you say that,” she warned. But she was smiling. She knew Roman would be listening intently and could just picture him clenching his teeth. He hated the nickname the press had given him years ago.
“Meh. I’m not worried. I trust your judgement. If you say he’s a good guy, then he is.”He held his arm out for her to precede him to the bar. “What can I get the pretty lady tonight?”
She elbowed him in the ribs. “Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you?” Before he could respond, she said, “Gin and tonic.”
“I’ll have the same,” Finn said, passing the bartender his credit card.
The burly bartender dipped his head ever so slightly, letting her know he was keeping an eye on them. When he slid the drinks across the bar, she wasn’t surprised to taste tonic water with no hint of gin. Roman had told them not to drink any alcohol. He wasn’t leaving anything to chance. Including them getting tipsy.
They moved to an empty table that was conveniently positioned in view of the bar, the upstairs manager’s office, and the bouncers. Angela slipped onto the high stool. The tables were tall and round and were a good height if you were standing and talking. But sitting on bar stools had never been her favorite thing to do. “I’m glad I didn’t go with the mini skirt,” she said grumpily.
“You look fabulous. That corset top is very va-va-voom. And those tight jeans?” Finn blew on his fingers as if they burned. “Hot. You’ve been hiding this smokin’ body under your scrubs for years. Shame on you, Dr. Hawthorne.”
Angela shook her head. Finn was too charming for his own good. But if he wasn’t careful, he was going to get himself a broken nose. “Thank you, Finn. You’re good for the ego. But you know Roman can hear everything you say, right?”
Finn shrugged, tapping out a rhythm on the table with his hand. “And? I’m not telling him anything he doesn’t already know.”
“You’re so easygoing it’s almost nauseating,” Angela said, only half-teasing.
“Life is easier if you don’t fight against it,” Finn rationalized.
Angela smiled softly. “I like that. I really appreciate this, Finn. Especially because I can’t tell you everything.”
“It’s all good,” he assured her, his gaze intent on hers. “Just know that you can tell me if and when you’re ready. I’m remarkably non-judgmental.”
“I’ve noticed. And thank you.”
They lapsed into silence, and she looked around, wondering if she’d squeezed into the corseted, lace-up top for nothing. They’d almost been late because Roman had taken one look at her in it and screwed her against the bathroom counter, bare from the waist down, but covered in the tight blue fabric at the top. She squeezed her legs together under the table. She could still feel where Roman had been. He truly did have a magic dick.
