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Judith cocked her head at the young woman sitting on the loveseat with Delia. Helena kept her head turned down. Was she shirking a little? Why, that wasn’t like the woman Delia had met in the club last weekend. Since when did Helena get shy?

Since something triggered her anxiety.

“I’ll make sure that drink is replaced, on the house. Moscow mule?”

“Blair is already on it, thank you.”

Judith’s gaze lingered on Helena before returning to the British couple in the middle of the room. They welcomed her back with cheers and a bawdy story about how they once shut down a Manchester club using nothing but their tongues.

“You all right?”

Helena didn’t respond to Delia’s question. She did, however, lift her head when Delia wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Yeah,” she gruffly said. “Fine. I’m sorry.”

“Hey, it’s no problem. These things happen. You sure you’re okay?”

Now she was slightly annoyed. That only made Delia want to press the matter further. “I’m fine.” After a moment of recollecting herself, Helena pushed her hair out of her face and turned to Delia with the kind of smoky, heavy-lidded eyes that made a woman melt. I see right through it. Damn if it wasn’t working on her, though. “Don’t let me ruin the evening. We’ve still got plenty to do.”

She walked her fingers along Delia’s thigh. Something that should have lulled her into a false sense of thank God, I’m getting laid tonight only confused Delia more. Yet every time she thought she had Helena figured out, the girl retreated into herself, and anything she said could be misconstrued as something to make Delia feel better.

Blair returned with a bottle of wine and three glasses. The bartender snuck by with a mop and a cloth. While Blair distracted her clients with a flourish as she poured the drinks, the bartender quickly cleaned up the last of the mess and dried off the table as if a Moscow mule had never been there.

“Thank you so much.” Delia’s hand detoured to her back pocket and slipped a ten-dollar bill into the bartender’s hand. He took it with a gracious nod before returning to his post. I’d give him more, but that’s all I had. She liked to keep cash there for these situations. And to make the pickpockets think they had taken all they could from her before targeting someone else.

Blair joined them on the loveseat. All three clinked their wine glasses together. Delia sank deeply into her cushion and thanked her lucky stars. How often did a woman get to spend a Friday evening with two beauties on either side of her? Sure, she paid one, and the other was only interested in her money differently, but that was how she preferred it.

Especially when Blair made herself comfortable in the corner of the loveseat, her robe sliding down her shoulders until Delia had an eyeful of cleavage right in her face.

Far be it from me to not share in this bounty. When she made room, Helena got the idea. Besides, having Helena climb in her lap ensured that they had more space on the loveseat.

“Your Mistress won’t get angry at you for showing me favoritism at work, will she?” Delia asked. “Because now that your body is touching mine, I’m inclined to tip beyond my means.”

“That’s why she won’t mind.” Blair maintained delicious eye contact as she drank the expensive wine Delia added to her tab. “She loves your money more than she dislikes you touching me.”

“Send her my regards.” Any other night Delia might push her luck. But one of the reasons Blair must have sat with her tonight was because she trusted Delia to not push a boundary. I can be a lot of things, but I like to think I’m not as much of an ass as I used to be. Turning thirty did things to a spoiled young woman. Like make her more aware of the people around her. Their feelings. Their desires, many of which had nothing to do with her.

Besides, she had someone else to feel up while they drank and spoke of idle things that meant nothing in the grand scheme of the world.

“Where are we going?” Helena glanced out the passenger side window of the Mercedes. “Don’t tell me you lived next to my hotel this whole time.”

Delia turned into the drive-up of Helena’s hotel. “I had a lovely time tonight,” she said, “but…”

Helena did a double take. “You’re kidding. You spent all of that money on me, and you don’t want to take me home?”

“I started my period,” Delia lied. “I noticed when I used the bathroom before we left the lounge. You know how it is. I’m going home to take a hot bath and pop a bottle of ibuprofen. This is my weekend now.”

Helena narrowed her eyes as the car continued to idle in front of the hotel entrance. “Is this because I spilled that drink in the lounge?”

“Of course not. I’ve already forgotten about it.”

“The night’s still young…”

“Do you want me to drop you off at some other bar? I’m sure you could find someone else to bring back to your room.”

“I would rather spend the night with you.”

That’s what I thought. Delia wouldn’t share the real reason she wasn’t taking Helena home, although that was the implication during the entire date. Home for a nightcap, sex, and God knows what else.

Delia was still interested in that, but common sense prevailed. Helena was too much of a wild card. Her date realized that she didn’t know enough about this young out-of-towner who may have other ulterior motives than sowing some wild oats. She had been involved in one of Candace Lister’s clubs, after all. Always knew there was something off about that woman. Not necessarily “human trafficking” levels of off, but what if Helena was also involved in nefarious things? What if Delia took her home and was robbed blind the next morning? For all she knew, she had been a mark from the beginning.