Page 7 of Devious Truth

“Are we going to play, or not?” Kaz shoots from the table, the deck of cards split between his two hands.

“Maybe this beauty would like to join us?” The stranger shuffles a step in my direction, lifting his arm as though he’s going to wrap it around my shoulders.

He drops it like it’s made of lead when Ivan snaps something at him in Russian. I don’t know a word of it, but there no mistaking the blackened storm clouds swimming in Ivan’s glare as he rapid fires more words.

The man’s lips tighten into a thin line as he mutters, “I meant no disrespect.”

“The game, Ivan.” Kaz’s tone has a warning in it as he starts shuffling.

“Yes. The game.” The man points to the bottle of vodka. “I’ll pour us a round while your brother deals the next hand.”

Ivan’s expression remains hard, but he gives a small nod, a concession of sorts, and hands over the liquor.

“What did you say to him?” I ask, watching the man open the bottle and begin pouring into five shot glasses.

“I told him to keep his hands to himself.” He leans in, lowering his voice. “Or I’d make sure they never touched anything again.”

The full meaning of his words hangs heavily between us. That’s not a threat you make casually.

“Mr. Volkov?—”

With a sharp swish of his hand, he cuts me off. “I’ve told you before not to call me that. My name is Ivan.”

“Fine.” I roll my shoulders back, thrust my chin up. There is no mistaking my meaning when I speak next. “Ivan. You can’t make threats like that. I’m just an employee, like all the rest of the girls working here.”

“If you think that, you haven’t been paying attention.” Heat flashes in his eyes, and my pulse quickens.

“You’re my boss.” I hush my voice. “And when you do things like that it makes people think there’s something more going on here.”

“Sometimes people outside of a situation have a better grasp of what’s happening than those inside it.”

Great; now he sounds like Caroline.

“Has it occurred to you that maybe I don’t want there to be something? That maybe you’re just not my type?”

Even I don’t believe myself.

“No.” A hint of a smile touches his lips. “If that were true, you wouldn’t get that little blotch of red on your neck when you see me.”

I bring my fingertips to the base of my throat. It’s always been a tell, the blush that blooms in that spot. Usually it’s not noticeable, but with the deep neckline of the uniform it’s easier to see.

“It’s probably just hot in here.” I am such a liar.

“Ivan. Sometime tonight.” Kaz chides.

Ivan lifts a hand to shut his younger brother up while keeping his searing attention on me.

“All right. We’ll do things your way.” Ivan turns toward the table like he’s going to walk away but then pauses. “For now.”

The urge to growl at him is strong, but Alexander’s questioning expression helps me tamp it down. I can’t lose this job.

It’s not that there aren’t other waitressing jobs out there. I could probably get another position at any of the night clubs in the city. But the pay here is insane. It’s more than adequate compensation for putting up with the elite of the elite. The egos that come through here barely fit through the doors some nights.

Business discussed around these tables could get everyone thrown in jail, or worse. Senators bring their mistresses here or find a mistress for the night. Any member of the mayoral boardcould be in attendance on any given night, making back door deals, taking bribes, or any other corrupt activity that needs to be done in the shadows.

Aside from the pay scale, the tips are on another level. These men know we won’t speak out of turn, and to make double sure their secrets stay safe, they keep us well fed in the tip department.

So, I could get another job at another club, but it’d be a huge pay cut.

---