Page 105 of Cruel Pleasures
As crazy as it sounds, I’ve gone over my options. I’ve charted out a plan. I’m channeling the power the Hostess mentioned a woman in my situation has.
Power I’ve used before. Power I’ve been well aware of when seducing men. But that I haven’t been using to its full potential since I’ve embarked on this journey of infiltrating the Midnight Society. Strutting from the atrium down the ground floor hall, I opt for the place I’m certain Archer is spending the evening.
He’s mentioned in the past that he enjoys a drink at the Legacy Lounge, the bar located inside the manor that’s open in the evenings for club members. The lush dark beat pulses the airwaves even before I make it to the entrance.
The lounge is what you’d expect from Hurst Manor. All polished wood and ambient lighting with a giant stage that features scantily clad women gyrating with each other for the entertainment of the audience.
Several men take note of me as I pass them by. Their brows quirk or they follow me with curious looks. I’m on a direct path toward the bar to order a vodka spritz. Perched on a barstool, legs crossed in a way that allows for my dress to ride up seductively and show off some tasteful skin, I’m ready.
No more than five seconds pass before I catch my first game.
Chadwick Thomas slides onto the barstool next to mine and snaps his fingers at the bartender. “Make that two vodka spritzes. One for the beautiful lady. The other for me.”
I twirl a lock of hair around my finger and smirk at him. “Where did you come from?”
“You may not know this, but it’s impossible not to notice you when you walk into a room. You’re stunning.”
My smirk widens. “Don’t flatter me.”
“It’s deserving,” he says. He nods at the bartender as he delivers our drinks. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to get you alone again. You need to tell me more about yourself.”
“What do you want to know?”
I keep my tone playful, aware of watchful eyes. One set in particular seated across the lounge.
Archer’s taken notice. His glare is so intense, an instant chill runs the length of my spine.
“Anything and everything,” Chadwick says, chuckling. “We have to stick together, Sasha. I prefer my wife looks like my mother. If you get what I’m saying.”
“There’s more to me than my looks, DA.”
The title reference seems to increase his ego. He leans closer, grinning. “You know, I heard about your grandfather’s potential embezzlement scandal. I could be of assistance considering the office I hold.”
“And what would it cost me?”
“I believe you can figure that out.” He trails his fingers along the tip of my shoulder as if to further entice me.
He’s not touching me for more than two seconds before a dark shadow falls over us.
“Keep touching her, and I’ll hack your fingers off.”
Chadwick snatches his hand away so fast, you’d think I’d burned him. “Hurst, what are you?—”
“Leave. Now.”
When Chadwick glances at me for help, I hide behind a sip of my vodka spritz. He gets the hint, tugging on his suit jacket and sliding off the barstool.
“Fine. Have it your way, Hurst. Sasha, enjoy your night.”
Archer takes his place immediately, as though a guard dog ready to fend off anyone else that may approach. I stay cool, my expression neutral, sipping from my drink.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“What do you mean?”
“Cut the act, minx,” he snaps. “That dress. This lounge. The strut. Your flirting.”
“I don’t know what you’re?—”
