Page 10 of Barristers & Bones

Looking around, I noticed for the first time there weren’t any women eating in the posh restaurant.

I sidestepped his hand once we were in the parking lot. “It worries me that being with you could put a target on my back. It’s not too late, you can still get another intern. A rich, well-connected male law student would probably be more your type.”

He beeped the locks on his car. “Your reticence makes me more determined to keep you.”

I gritted my teeth and slid into the passenger seat. When he climbed in, I turned to him. “Are we done for today? I have some studying to do.”

“No, we have one more stop. I’ll let you know when we’re done, and from now on, bring whatever you need to study and plan on spending your days at the office.”

My temper snapped. “No way. Look, I’m not your employee, little sister, or… whatever. I have class and school obligations. I can’t just blow it all off because you’re a controlling asshole.”

He gave me a hard look. “I know you’re not my little sister since I’m an only child, and it would do you good to see how the law actually functions here in Las Vegas.”

I scowled back. “I get the feeling your law firm runs less by the book and more in that grayish-black area.”

Roman’s head swiveled slowly to me, and he raised an eyebrow. “You live and work with the Spades. Don’t you think that’s a little hypocritical? We make sure we have enough power, money, and leverage so we don’t get fucked over by the law again. The legal system won’t keep you safe, even from me. Never make that mistake.”

His cold eyes were shadowed. Our conversation had gotten intense fast, so I let it go, but he was in for a rude surprise if he thought I’d be held hostage in his office all day. The mentorship rules required me to complete a certain number of hours and have so many law-related experiences, and I was keeping track.

Studying him thoughtfully, I wondered what he was like in a courtroom. “Where are we going now?”

“To see one of my clients.” A few minutes later, we pulled into the parking lot of Euphoria. Even I had heard of this place, it was one of the most notorious and popular strip clubs in Vegas, and excited nervous energy rolled through me.

“You think a trip to a strip club is part of my necessary hands-on legal experience?” My curiosity won out, and I got out of the car and tilted my head back to look up at the large, ostentatious white building.

“It’s agentlemen’sclub, and absolutely. This is another one of those places where ‘entitled males’ go to do business.’”

Faux Greek marble statues of naked women lined the walkway to the front doors.

“I’ve always wanted to go inside,” I admitted, staring up at the building. “What are you doing here?”

His brow creased as he studied me. “The managing partner needs some legal advice about a VIP client.”

“Okay. Can I talk to a few employees if there’s time?'“

He shrugged. “It’s up to them. But stay out of trouble and don’t wander off. Their doors open at noon.”

A bouncer answered the doorbell and buzzed us inside the thick double doors. Coming in from the bright Las Vegas sunshine, the dimly lit club temporarily blinded me. Even with the houselights up, the club looked like an exclusive salon or the lobby of a five-star hotel. The walls were covered in a deep plush shade of blue, accented with gold and crystal. Velvet sofas and armchairs were artfully arranged around marble coffee tables. Large chandeliers hung from the ceiling, glowing warmly over the space. A main stage sat at the back, and two smaller stages with sturdy poles were placed equidistant from each other further into the club.

A couple of cleaners worked in the bar area, and the subtle aroma of lemon solution mixed with perfumes and colognes lingered in the air.

“Roman Fowler,” a husky female voice murmured as a striking woman approached us from the shadows. “Who did you bring with you today?”

“Fiona Parker, this is Luna Cross.”

Fiona was probably in her early forties. She had short platinum blond hair cut into a sharp bob, tasteful makeup, and wore a feminine lavender-colored business suit.

“Nice to meet you.” I held out my hand, and she gave me a firm handshake. “I’ve always been curious about your club. One of my classmates had her bachelorette party here, and now that I know a female owns it, I’m even more intrigued.”

Fiona glanced at Roman. “I have a couple of other partners. So you’re looking for employment? You’re not dressed for an audition, but I’m sure there’s something in back that would work.” Fiona reached around and grabbed the back of my white button-down shirt, pulling it tight so she could see my figure. Then she walked around me and palmed my butt cheeks. I grunted in surprise and moved out of her reach. Roman didn’t say a word, and I could tell he was trying not to laugh. Asshole.

“You’ve got nice breasts and a good, tight ass, and your innocent face and those big, green eyes with all that thick, dark hair would be a hit with the clientele. I’ll need to see how you dance and move, though.”

I choked and my cheeks flushed hot. Turning to face her, I held up my hands. “Thank you? But I’m already employed as a mortuary assistant, and today I’m just shadowing Mr. Fowler as his law student intern.”

Fiona chuckled, unfazed by her mistake. “Aw, that’s why you’re blushing like a nun in a brothel. But seriously, if you can dance and you don’t have any serious blemishes or scars, you could make a lot of money working here.”

“I don’t know how to dance, and I have no rhythm or coordination. My dance teacher kicked me out of her studio when I was six, so I think I’m better off getting a degree.”

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