Page 47 of Spades

He grabs my upper arms, sinking his grip into them. “I’m not apologizing for the kiss. What do you say we get out of here?”

I’d like nothing more—my pussy is more than ready after this dance and kiss—but out of the corner of my eye, I spy Seven holding a tray, looking at us.

“Our drinks,” I say. “We should at least finish them. I don’t want that good booze to go to waste.”

He grins. “I can respect that.”

I nod to Seven, indicating that we’re coming over.

Goodness. Seven.

I haven’t thought of her since last night. I had a few too many drinks, and Maddox has dominated my headspace ever since that ardent kiss last night.

But I thought I caught something in her eyes. A fleeting look of fear.

Maybe I was just seeing things. I was pretty weirded out for the first hour we were here last night. It took a while for me to adjust.

But now I know that Aces Underground is just a regular club with a bizarre coat of paint. Completely harmless and a lot of fun.

I walk over to Seven. “We’ll grab a table back at the Spades section.”

Seven nods and follows Maddox and me as we cross toward the bar and grab a small table in the corner.

She sets down our drinks and whisks away to attend to another table. Maddox grabs his gin and tonic, and I take a sip of my martini. It’s delicious, perhaps even better than the one I had last night. I ordered this one dry, meaning that it has much less vermouth than a regular martini. That allows the rose-petal infusion in the vodka to really shine and blend with the earthy and acidic flavor of the olive juice. It’s delicious.

I take another sip when I notice something at the base of my glass. A tiny blue sticky note affixed to the bottom.

It’s handwritten, in a language other than English. Roman letters, but lots of marks that I don’t recognize.

Maddox raises his eyebrows as he puts his glass down. “What’s that?”

I shrug. “I have no idea. It’s a small note, handwritten.”

“Let me see it.”

I hand it to Maddox.

He looks it over and strokes his chin. “Interesting. I’m not sure what language this is. But the letters are the same letters we use in English, so we can rule out a Slavic language and most Asian languages. Which is odd, because most of the servers here are from Eastern Europe or Southern Asia.” He hands the note back to me. “Probably just a note from the bar. Someone wrote down an order from a patron and it accidentally got stuck to your glass. You can probably toss it.”

I blink. Odd that a note would be attached to my glass. “It could be important. I’ll flag Seven down and give it back to her.”

Maddox looks up. “I think she’s preoccupied.”

Indeed, the middle-aged man at the table Seven served after us is getting to his feet, his gaze lingering on the curve of Seven’s waist and the sway of her hips. A smirk tugs at the corner of his mouth.

I swallow. “What do you mean, preoccupied?”

Maddox discreetly gestures to Seven and the older man. “Watch.”

Seven dips her shoulders just a fraction before she turns to follow the man. Her steps are measured, controlled, but I see a flicker of something in her eyes—resignation? She follows the man to one of the private areas that is cordoned off with velvet rope, and they disappear behind the curtains.

My heart races as I keep my eyes focused on the curtains. “What… What are they doing back there?”

“Could be anything. They could be talking. He could be paying her for a lap dance…or more.”

I whip my gaze back to Maddox. “Ormore?”

He shrugs. “Aces has a ‘don’t ask, don’t tell’ policy when it comes to what happens in the private spaces. But rest assured that Seven is being tipped well for any service she may provide.”

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