Page 15 of The Deceptions

Harsh. Earl has obviously had a little too much to drink by the sway of his body and the glassiness of his eyes. In fact, his head barely stays upright, flopping around every time he blinks. Someone needs to escort the poor man home and put him to bed before he overdoes it.

Earl frowns, pulling his shirt down over his belly. "Why won't anyone believe me? It happened! I swear it was the aliens. There was a beam of light and probes, and this!" He points to hisstomach where the fresh scar would be, but it is covered by his shirt. “They took parts of my liver,” he slurs, slumping more.

"Earl," the bartender sighs, nodding at the security guard who reluctantly waltzes over. "I'm going to ask you to leave now and kick you off the premises for thirty days. I can't let you scare away business."

Earl grunts when the security guard lifts him off the stool by his upper arm and escorts him away from the bar, down a hallway until they disappear from sight. Once the commotion dies down, the bartender shakes off the interaction and goes back to checking on everyone.

I down the rest of my drink and slide it forward, catching the bartender's attention.

“So, you here for the slots?” he asks curiously, as he pours me a new drink and sets it in front of me.

His fingers tap the bar again, drumming a few times. A heated hunger swirls in his eyes as he looks me over, stopping at my chest before meeting my eyes again. A red tint takes over his cheeks, and he clears his throat when he discovers he's been caught peeping.

“That's what most everyone is here for. Gambling for the weekend and stopping here to drink and eat.” He waves a finger around, gesturing to the other patrons.

Interesting. Greenwood used to attract a lot of big players. Franco loved bringing in mafia, mob, and gang leaders from all over the world to create alliances and forge new business. It must have paid off with how much he's expanded. That’s how he convinced my dad to work with him, at least, I think. One second, we were on our knees, begging for another chance in the family after my father attempted a takeover on his brother’s properties. The next, we were in our van and heading for Southern California, landing here in Franco’s arms—per my uncle’s request. It was the stipulations they placed on us. Earnyour way back into the family’s good graces by submitting to Nathanial Franco and his syndicate while gathering insight into how he runs things. Somehow, Franco accepted us. Offering lodging, jobs, and a more stable life than I ever had.

Well, kind of.

I shake my head. “Not the slots or casinos. College,” I say, using as few words as possible.

“Oh,” he says with a nod. “Greenwood, then?”

“Yup. Starting my senior year there, hoping to graduate and move on.” Not a lie, but not the full truth. But I need to do a little recon on Greenwood to understand what I’m fully getting into. “How about you? You ever attend?” I sip my drink when a lopsided grin passes over his lips. His shoulders relax, and he nods.

“Bachelor's degree in business,” he says, holding out his hands. “I've always been interested in this space and mixology. So, here I am.”

“Oh? Nice. So, you own this place?” I raise a brow.

“Yup. Getting my degree was the best. Greenwood is pretty amazing, too. Lots of opportunities, internships, and…” he leans in slowly before lowering his voice. “Connections.”

Well, color me intrigued. This conversation will prove fruitful in my recon. It never hurts to understand what I'm about to walk into.

“Connections?” I whisper. “What kind of connections?” His eyes dip to my breasts again and then back to my face.

What a transparent idiot. He probably wants to take me home and fuck my brains out. Not a bad idea. But with him? Eh, I don't know. He's not really my type. I’m more into the dark and dangerous. You know, men who shouldn’t get my engines going, but do. But I could gather more information about Greenwood U and the town from him without offering him a piece of my pie.

He grins. “I can tell you later, if you want? I have an apartment in the basement.” He shrugs, averting his eyes as a blush covers his cheeks.

Ah. There it is. So bold.

“Maybe,” I say, downing my second drink. “Another? I bat my eyelashes, luring him in further.

Oh, yeah. The liquor is definitely working through my veins and impacting my inhibitions. Whatever. This is what I wanted. A reprieve. A moment where nothing matters.

“Yeah,” he says, brushing his fingers against mine when he takes my glass. “So…” he trails off, his entire body stiffening at the jingle of the bell above the door.

A hush comes over the bar as two sets of footsteps slowly walk past and lean against the bar. Danger wafts from the two newcomers, pulling me in like a moth to the stupid flame.

Yeah. That's more like it. That's my type. All tall, dangerous, and could probably snap me in half. Fuck. I should cut myself off now before I climb either of them like a tree. Or both at the same time. I’m not picky. God, they’re mouthwatering and delicious.

I need to stop drinking.

I shake my head and clear my rampant thoughts. Yeah, I've definitely achieved numbness and slight horniness.

It's been a while, okay? I'm a woman. I have needs.

The bartender quickly drops off my drink in front of me, but doesn't hang around to offer me any more heated looks. He stands rigidly in front of the two men, waiting expectantly.