Page 25 of Peach Cobbler Confessions
Meg and I take off down a darkened corridor that leads to an entire network of secret passageways. The gentlemen’s club has always been a front for far seedier dealings in the back and in the downstairs level as well. We’re talking casino, a dicey finance department, the Canneli mob headquarters, and an especially carnal club that I just so happened to be heading toward.
“Speaking of college.” Meg turns my way and her face is lost in the shadows. All that remains is the whites of her eyes. “You have Evie to think about in just three years. But then, you’re probably not worried. Her daddy is loaded.”
“That he is. And her grandmother could bail the country out of the trillion dollar debt.”
Meg rumbles out a laugh. “And let’s not forget her real mother, and I’m not talking about Cressida Bentley. You’re loaded, too, Lot. And speaking of which, why haven’t you bought that rental house from your landlord yet?”
“It’s not for sale.”
“Everything has a price tag, Lot. Even people.” She gives a hearty wink, and I’m not certain what she means, but I give a nervous laugh as we come out on the other side of the Red Satin rabbit hole.
It’s time to sink or swim, Sammy.
Here’s hoping I can get the truth out of her.
Chapter 10
Meg and I cruise through the underbelly of Red Satin as she leads the way through the illegal casino, then down a stairwell wallpapered in a red harlequin pattern to a lower level where the air is a smidge cooler and the thick scent of cinnamon and something masculine mingled with it hovers in the air. The walls look as if they were carved out of a single rock, giving it the appeal of a cave, and there are plants growing out of pots built into the rocky crags all around me. It truly feels as if we’ve just set foot into an exotic jungle. Moody music buzzes overhead and the lights are so dim, the only thing leading our path is a series of out of control pink and purple spotlights. The floor seems to have some sort of blue cast to it, and that helps navigate my feet from tripping.
A spray of bright red stars glimmers before me, and in no time flat the ghost of Collette Jenner appears in all her crimson glory.
“It’s about time you got here, Lot! Oh, I just love this place.” She skips around, spinning and laughing.
“I figured you would,” I whisper her way. “Any luck with you know who?”
“Kent?” Her expression grows sour. “I couldn’t get near him or his shower. But never mind that. Can we go into the passion room? Can we? Oh, the memories I made there.”
It’s true. The Jungle Room was Collette Jenner’s old stomping grounds. The rooms themselves are themed in every shade of carnality a deprived mind could ask for. You simply tell the staff your favorite fantasy flavor and you’re all set to have the lustiest time of your life.
“The passion room?” I ask, looking right at her, and Meg barks out a laugh.
“I keep forgetting you’re a regular here, Lot. Speaking of regulars, you might want to turn around.”
I spin on my heels and my eyes bulge with surprise as I see two lethally handsome men with equally disappointed expressions on their faces.
“Lot? Are you insane?” Noah is the first to verbalize his disapproval.
Everett steps forward, and I think about three different women gasped from behind.
“Lemon,” he says my name harsh like a reprimand, and those same women scream with ecstasy. “You’re carrying our child.” Gasps of horror ensue, then it’s right back to dreamy sighs from the peanut gallery. “This is hardly a safe or a wholesome venue.” His voice softens as he picks up my hand and kisses that sparkler he landed on my finger.
“How did you know to find me here?” I turn to the spook in our midst. “Collette? Did you have anything to do with this?”
Meg scoffs. “I don’t know who Collette is, but remember me telling you that even people have a price tag? Well, you’re one of them. Or perhaps I should say I am.” She snaps her fingers in front of Noah. “Pay the piper, Fox man. I’ve got two hungry, pregnant women waiting on nachos, and if I stall much longer, it ain’t gonna be pretty.”
Noah lands a twenty dollar bill in her palm and Everett doubles down and gives her forty.
“What?” I squawk. “I can’t believe the two of you are paying people to rat me out.”
Noah’s dimples dig in. “Just Meg.”
Everett nods. “She’s our voice of reason in Leeds. Believe me, Lemon, many people would pay to have a voice of reason in Leeds.”
“Fair enough,” I say as Meg takes off. I take up the hands of the two handsome devils who bribed their way into my presence. “Before you get all hot and bothered with me, Collette is here.”
Collette lets out a ghostly moan. “And, boy, did I ever get hot and bothered.”
Everett rocks back on his heels. “Some things never change.”