Page 76 of Nothing to No One

And there was Bambi, lost. “Purple envelope?”

“You know,” Roxie said, “I always wondered…”

Zairn offered Bambi his other arm. Her Bambi. Like her! This insanely hot, successful businessman with—who said this town wasn’t a dream-maker? To hell with it. If she was going to get mixed up with anybody, better it be the involved one than the singleton. Though she wouldn’t mind riling Roman by cozying up to Tripp, it wouldn’t win her points with Struan. Choosing to play nice, though she’d get no acknowledgment for it, she slid her hand into Zairn’s elbow.

“Wondered what, Rox Out?” Tripp asked, teeing Roxie up.

“If Jane and I had sat in opposite seats, would we still be here today?”

“Jane would never have broken the rules.”

Roxie’s shrug joined them on the way out to the car. “Toria then. Toria doesn’t care about rules. She’d have got you drunk and jumped you for sure.”

Tripp reached for the champagne the moment the door closed behind them. “So probably not.”

“You think Tori would be in my place?”

“She’d probably be in jail,” Tripp said. “Woman doesn’t know the word decorum. She’ll grab a guy just about anywhere.”

“Z wouldn’t press charges. You wouldn’t press charges, would you, Casanova?”

“A man can be sexually assaulted too,” Mieux highlighted, which provoked her nod.

“Absolutely, yes,” Roxie agreed. “Toria knows things.”

“Blackmail things?”

“Sex position things. She could teach my guy a thing or two. And the finger thing works on him, she likes that.”

“Mmm, I’m intrigued,” Tripp said. “Toria fancy a trip to LA?”

“Oh, little one, your eyes are too innocent for her wonders.” That got a laugh as Roxie winked at him. “Besides, you know the rules, you want one of my girls? Pick carefully. She’ll be the last of them you’re allowed to touch.”

“Rules,” Tripp scoffed. “Like you follow rules.”

“This one’s law.” Roxie tossed her hair. “You want to hang in my club, you obey my laws.”

What kind of night awaited them? A club? No, not “a club” like it was just anywhere. Crimson was the most exclusive club in the universe, especially the sections these guys would hang out in.

Feeling inferior, a little self-consciousness visited. “I can’t go clubbing in my work clothes.”

Roxanna Kyst batted that objection out of the park too. “They’ll bring us clothes there, don’t worry. I’ll look after you.”

Yeah? From a woman who said “anything goes” that wasn’t particularly reassuring.

TWENTY-SIX

PARTYING SEEMED TO be on this gang’s agenda every night of the week. Tripp’s description of them as “professionals” was apt. How was anyone supposed to keep up? She surrendered to their superiority because what else could she do?

Roxie grabbed her and Mieux as soon as they got to Crimson. Not just anywhere in Crimson, right past the main dance floor, up a private staircase to the VIP floor. As if on cue, a stylist appeared to take them into a side room and dress them up for the night. Damn, she was getting used to the instant access thing. Not because the money mattered, no, but so many choices would be exhausting if she didn’t have someone making them for her.

When they were freed from the fashion bonanza, drinks were brought to them and Roxie’s favorite tracks were played. Though, with Roxie, every tune seemed to be her favorite. The hostess knew every word to every song.

Zairn sat on a couch in the same space, in a dark corner occupied only by him. Others sat in adjacent seats, but no one dared touch the sofa. Was that another of Roxie’s laws? More likely to be Zairn’s; Roxie wasn’t the jealous type. She’d never met a couple so secure in their relationship.

As soon as a glass was empty, another drink was put in her hand. Roxie had a gold medal in this clubbing thing, a platinum medal. If this was a sport, the woman would have a trove of trophies, no doubt about that.

At the other extreme, Mieux refused alcohol without anyone batting an eye, and her drinks were topped up just asquickly, even being virgin. With her friends at opposite ends of the spectrum, she could set her own pace. No one called her out to drink more or stick to alcohol. Every variation was accepted there.

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