Page 75 of Nothing to No One

How could she…? “Don’t you live together?”

“What does that matter? I can help you and live with him simultaneously.”

“I don’t want to cause issues in your relationship. You’ve already been so generous.”

Roxie laughed. “If we can overcome the issuesIput in our way, we can overcome anything. This is nothing. He knows I’ll do anything to protect my girls and wouldn’t leave me for all the money and pussy in the land. So if you want to tell Struan you’re ready to make it real, your guy just has to step up and do what’s right.Myguy will always show up for me, that’s a given. Don’tyou worry about anything except your heart. I’ve got everything else covered.”

She’d never met someone so certain or selfless. Zairn’s head rose, drawing their attention to Tripp and Mieux joining them again.

“Good! Now the gossip,” her blonde-haired friend exclaimed.

Mieux swatted at Tripp’s hand when he touched her waist.

“No gossip,” Tripp said. The look on his face was far too satisfied to be absolutely meaningless. “Unfinished business.”

“I’m not worried,” Roxie declared with confidence. “We have a full bottle of your favorite Johnnie Walker behind the bar. And I might be in the mood to dance.”

“I’m in,” Tripp said.

Zairn snickered and downed the rest of his drink. “To which?”

He shifted forward on the couch, hand open in anticipation of Roxie’s glass as she gulped its remaining contents. They might be able to down this strong liquor like it was nothing, she wasn’t as practiced.

“Food’s on the way. You said—”

“They’ll redirect it.” Glasses in hand, Zairn went back outside.

“I probably shouldn’t go out tonight. I don’t know if there’s a plan.”

“If there’s a plan, it will find you,” Roxie said, easing the glass from her hand to cast it aside, somehow aware of her reluctance to drink. “They’ll bring food to the club, or box it up here for us to eat when we get back.”

“Ask them to multiply everything by ten and send it to the Sigmore Shelter,” Tripp said. “Hundred percent tip, put it on my tab.”

“The homeless place?” Mieux asked, scurrying to the kitchen to retrieve her combat tools.

Roxie’s grin was both proud and mocking. “Momma’s boy.”

Slipping his hands in his pockets, he shrugged.

This was happening? They were going to Crimson? “I might have work tomorrow.”

“Thank goodness it’s still today!”

Had Roxie ever met an objection she couldn’t counter?

On Mieux’s return, Tripp flopped an arm around her, yanking her to his side.

The assistant’s body didn’t respond. “I won’t—”

“You will.” Tripp was confident in his smile. Man was always confident. “Alcohol’s optional.”

“Anything goes at Crimson,” Roxie said, tugging her onto her feet. “Come on, you have to visit. Otherwise it’s like refusing to look at my beautiful child.”

“Your beautiful what?” Zairn asked, sauntering up to them. “When did you get one of those?”

“Right about the same time you gave me that purple envelope.”

“Luck of the draw,” he said. Roxie took his arm in a mutual, probably unconscious, move. “What were the chances?”

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