Page 64 of Tattletale

Gabriel must sense me staring because he glances at me in his periphery. I snap my gaze to the dancer to the left of me, cursing myself for being so unsmooth. But when I can’t help butlook in Gabriel’s direction again, he’s staring at me completely unashamed.

I suck in a small breath and look away again.Goodness.His picture didn’t do him justice…and in the picture he was exquisite. If this man is truly the devil in disguise,my God, is the devil hiding behind a sexy package.

I take a few steps to the left as if I’m trying to examine the dancer closest to me from a different angle. It’s amazing how they never make eye contact. She works the pole in the green room, as I’ve dubbed it. I’m not sure what the point of this room is, but there are a lot of tall plants, and she’s wearing a thin, green thong and nothing else.

A small hand presses against my midback. I turn to see a young server. She’s dressed in all black, nearly blending in with the dark ambiance of the club. In fact, where did she even come from? She appeared out of thin air. “Miss, are you here alone tonight?”

Weird question.“Why?” I ask, defensively.

“Mr. Lochland would like to invite you to his table, but he wanted to make sure you were unattached first. He didn’t want to be disrespectful of your date if you had one.”

The devil respects monogamy?Vienne might be the crazy one here.

I glance over her shoulder at Gabriel, whose attention has gone back to the dancer in front of him. “I’m single.”

“Excellent.” She gestures behind me to the velvet ropes separating Gabriel from the rest of the commoners in the club. “Shall we?”

The server escorts me the ten feet from where I’m standing to Gabriel’s area. She unhooks the rope to let me in, then quickly fastens it back.Interesting.She doesn’t cross the rope. Instead, she asks me what I’d like to drink from the other side of the divider.

“Dirty martini, please? Extra filthy, with a couple extra olives.”

“What kind would you like? We have pimento, garlic, bleu cheese, jalapeño, brie, or feta-stuffed olives.”

“Um…” I close my eyes trying to remember what options she gave me. “That was a lot of choices.”

She holds up her hands. “Don’t worry, I’ll bring you a sampler.” She smiles.

Gabriel rises from his seat to join us. “Bring enough for two, Celeste, and a martini for me as well.”

He finds my gaze, and I give myself permission to stare back and appreciate his stunning good looks. He seemed so much younger in the picture Vienne showed us. But he’s quite a bit larger in person. He’s tall and obviously muscular even through his business suit.

“Would you like your usual, Mr. Lochland? Splash of gin and a twist?”

“Actually, I think I’ll have what she’s having. A dirty martini with…I’m sorry, how did you order that again?” A playful, teasing smirk crawls across his face, lighting his dark eyes up.

A breathy chuckle escapes my lips. “Extra filthy,” I answer.

His smile grows even more. “That’s the one. Two extra-filthy martinis, Celeste. And afterward, would you please take a dinner break and put your feet up? Order yourself a nice, thick steak with all the fixings, on the house. Okay? That’s an order.”

“You’re too kind, Mr. Lochland.”

“I’m worried about you. A fifty-hour week is too much. I’ll be talking to Dave on Monday about overworking my servers.”

Celeste tucks a lock of her brunette hair behind her hair. “All due respect, Mr. Lochland, Dave was doing me a favor. I need the overtime.”

Gabriel’s smile disappears, and he crosses his arms. “Why?”

Celeste’s eyes hit the ground. “Just some medical stuff insurance won’t cover. It’s been a mess, but I’m okay. I just need—”

“Call my office, please. The number is in the staff break room. Tell Stacia to put you on my schedule first thing Monday morning. Whatever mess you’re in, we’ll clean it up, okay?”

Her eyes well up. “Thank you so much, Mr. Lochland.” She sniffles. “Um, I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

As soon as Celeste disappears, I ask, “Well, Mr. Lochland, was that for my benefit? Or would you have done that either way?”

His flirtatious smirk returns. “Offering to help my employee was not for your benefit. I would’ve done that regardless. Now, ordering a dirty martini was absolutely for your benefit. I wanted to hear you say ‘extra filthy,’ again.”

I chuckle. “Extra filthy,” I repeat.

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