Page 121 of G.O.D.S Omnibus

Gliding my way through tables mostly filled with middle-aged men, their eyes follow me as they try to justify their thoughts about someone so much younger. I’m sure to their minds their wives are no longer young, and looking at me makes them feel youthful again.

“Is this seat taken?” I purr.

Martin looks up at me, his baby-blue eyes sparkling as he gives me a once-over. “No, be my guest.” His lips curl slightly in the corners.

“Thank you.”

The bartender walks over to me and smiles. “What can I get for you?”

I tap my pointer finger on my lips, noting how Martin’s eyes watch the movement. “Vodka lemonade please.”

“Put it on my tab,” Martin says, and the bartender nods.

I don’t miss the look the young guy gives him. I can imagine him thinking I must be a whore, going after a man double myage. The bartender snaps himself out of his thoughts, rushing away to prepare my drink.

“That’s very generous of you.”

“Anything for a pretty girl.” I giggle at his comment, playing into his game, because that’s what this would be for him. “Martin,” he says, offering me his hand.

“Lola,” I hear Trace say through my earpiece.

“Lola, nice to meet you,” I murmur, placing my hand in his. My eyes widen slightly as he lifts my hand and places a kiss on the back of it.

The bartender comes back, places my drink in front of me, and walks away.

“So, what do you do, Martin?” Extracting my hand from Martin’s hold, I pick up the highball glass and take a sip.

“I’m a very successful businessman. What do you do, Lola?”

“Tell him you’re in high school.”

“I’m a senior in high school.”

His eyes widen and his interest piques. He turns to fully face me, raising his hand to flag the bartender.

The bartender brings us fresh drinks, and Martin keeps the conversation flowing. His questions would be unnerving if I didn’t already know he was a sick scumbag. First, he asks about my family, and I tell him honestly that I have no one. Martin says the right things, picks up on the right cues, and really plays the sympathy card. In a twisted way, he is good—I’ll give him that—and I can understand why girls are charmed by him.

The clock behind the bar catches my attention and becomes my focus. Twenty minutes have flown by and there still isn’t any word from the guys saying they are done.

“Excuse me for a moment. I just need to use the bathroom.”

I slip from my chair and find my way to the toilets. “Any news on how much longer this is going to take?”

“No word yet. You’re doing great, but the asshole just slipped something into your drink. You can still drink it without any effect, since your body won’t absorb it. But you assholes, I know you can hear me, so hurry the fuck up. He’ll be expecting Lola to start feeling weird.”

“Almost done,” Chester growls.

I make my way back to the bar and take a seat. Martin slides my glass towards me, and I take a sip.

“I’m glad that I met you, Martin,” I say, before downing the rest of my drink.

“The pleasure has been all mine. I own a yacht—maybe you would like to see it sometime.”

“I don’t know. Wouldn’t your girlfriend get jealous?” I slur my words slightly, giving him the impression that his drug is taking effect.

“No girlfriend.”

“Well lucky me.” I add a giggle.

---