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“Oh, Joey sent this over for you.” He digs through his backpack and hands me a square envelope. Not the kind I would use for money, and it’s thick. It’s a wedding invitation for Tawny and Scott, the guy she went into the club with when I saw Katya. God that feels so long ago.

“Should I even go to this?”

Uri digs through the cabinet and grabs a bag of popcorn, tearing it open. “Why not? Free food. I can watch Ian.”

I frown. “You do that every night. It’s almost like you’re using him as an excuse so you don’t have to go out yourself.”

He frowns and points the bag at me. “Yeah, but the father of the bride owes the Italian family money, so if the Four Fathers don’t go, someone from the family might have to. You could be a proxy if need be.” Uri’s been working for the Irish family for a few months now and has been moving up in the ranks. He’s earning the trust and respect from the other fathers he wished he had from his own. “And I don’t want to go, so winner winner chicken dinner!” He throws up his hands.

In the past month, Ian has exploded with joy. He’s smiling and explaining all the crazy things he gets Drew to do with his hands.“I’m worried my teacher will tell him the truth, but she keeps laughing whenever Drew and I work together.” He frowns. “Oh, and there’s this guy who gave Shae a hard time”—his frown turns into a smirk—“once. And he’s never done it again.”

Uri and I exchange glances. “What did you do?”

Ian puts his hand to his chest. “Me? It was her.”

I don’t believe him, but I’m not going to push it. He squeezes my hand and my heart swells. Uri coughs a little to hide his tears. Things are going the way they should be.

“I’ve got to get ready,” I say and head to my room to change into a suit for the wedding reception I was invited to that Uri somehow cajoled me into attending as his “proxy.”

I check my Katya phone, but no calls or texts. I don’t think she’s undercover right now. But I know she hates her boss. I miss my girl. My bed is big and cold, and I feel better when she’s around.

The wedding is in a cute hotel, a little dated for American standards. I don’t understand why we’re drinking out of mason jars and there’s tiny flowers everywhere. It looks like a farm threw up in here. Not my thing, but who am I to judge? I’m at the “we don’t know what to do with you” table. A tad upsetting since I’m the reason these two got together in the first place. I should leave. Go home and sleep. Maybe I’ll stare at my Katya phone debating on the perfect wording for a text. Either way, here is not where I want to be.

I’m vaguely aware of the presence of someone behind me.

“What would you like to drink, sir?”

All the blood rushes away from my head. Her fingertips brush lightly on the base of my neck and I swallow.

“You,” I mumble under my breath. I twist in my chair to see her—white shirt, black skirt, hair in a bun, minimal makeup. “I’ll take a beer, whatever’s in a bottle.”

Katya smiles at me. “Yes, sir.”

And fuck, I’ve been working for a while now, and lots of the kink stuff doesn’t do it for me. But tonight, oh something’s happening.

She turns her attention to the other people at the table while taking their orders. I drop my napkin on the floor, and as I lean over for it, I graze my fingers across her calf. The soft touch is enough to make me crave more.

“I’ll be back with your drink orders.”

There’s an open bar, she doesn’t need to take our orders.

As I watch her walk off, a familiar face pops into view, plus a woman who reminds me of Donny. It all clicks, this is Donny’s sister. Shit. She’s Drew’s mom. And Lance can’t take his eyes off her. I shake his hand and we exchange pleasantries.

Katya returns with our drinks and I start talking, peeling the label off the beer in one long strip, only half paying attention to the conversation. The topic of how everyone knows the bride or groom comes up, and without thinking, I offer, “Yeah, I met them at the club.”

Fuck. I shouldn’t have outed them like that. I’m about to say I’m the reason they’re together, but Izzy is too fascinated about the club. And I’m not doing much to change the conversation.

Lance swirls his water around his glass. “I always imagine it like a gym…with a different type of spotter, and equipment that needs to be wiped down more.”

Leaning in, I whisper, “I’m sure you know someone you could ask.”

Lance gives a little shrug. “Alana likes to give me wildly inaccurate information just to make me squirm. When it comes to this stuff, I can’t ever tell what’s real and what’s a joke with her.”

Izzy’s jaw drops as her gears start spinning. “Wait, so, Alana, your boss who owns and operates a massive private security company, who also has Joey scared out of his mind, is a memberof his sex club? That’s so complicated.” This little, not-so-quiet revelation causes the rest of the table to pause what they’re doing and stare at us.

Shit.

Lance pipes in for the save, “Sax club, it’s for jazz.” This seems to placate the others and they go back to their previous conversations.