Page 152 of Theirs to Desire (Club M: Boxed Set)

ERIC

I don't know what instinct drives me to go to the club's open night on Saturday.

Maybe it's because it's been a long week.

Maybe it's because I can't shake off the feeling that something is wrong at Leforte Enterprises.

Maybe it's that I could use a drink or two, anything to get the distraction that is Dixie Ketcham out of my head.

Whatever it is, when I get there, I see someone there that I didn't expect to see. Hunter.

I walk over to him. "You're alive," I quip. As soon as the words leave my mouth, I curse myself. Idiot. "You're the last person I thought I'd see here."

"I’ve been ignoring your messages,” he responds sheepishly. “Sorry about that.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for.” I glance at him. I’d like to say he looks better than he did the last time I saw him, but I’m not sure I’d be right. Hunter looks drained. “How are you doing?”

“Fine.” He lifts his shoulders in a shrug. “Let’s talk about something else. What have you been doing with yourself?”

“Xavier got me to work for him.”

“He did?” Hunter looks like he’s holding back a laugh. “He’s been trying for a very long time. How did he manage to convince you to finally take him up on his offer?”

“He appealed to my better nature.”

“You have one?”

I grin wryly. “Touché.” I glance over at the bar, but it’s crowded. I’m going to wait for it to thin out. “Do you know Pierre Valade?”

“Not really, no. Why?”

“Because the guy’s left the place in shocking shape. They’re behind on everything. This is years of neglect. I have no idea why Xavier kept him on as long as he did.”

“You know Xavier,” Hunter says. “As much as he likes to play the ruthless billionaire, he’s deeply loyal to his friends. If he considered Pierre Valade among them, he would have done everything in his power to avoid firing him.”

“He took advantage of Xavier,” I retort. “I don’t like people like that. And it’s more than simple negligence. Something feels off.”

Hunter gives me a sharp look. “Off? In what way?”

“I can’t put my finger on it,” I reply. “Not yet, anyway. It’s just been a week. I’ll have to sit with Leforte’s books to figure it out.”

I scan the bar and my gaze snags on a woman.

She’s sitting with her back to me, her honey-brown hair tumbling down her back in loose waves.

Something about her reminds me of Dixie Ketcham.

Same hair color. For a second, I consider the possibility that it could be her and then dismiss it with an inward laugh.

Dixie voluntarily showing up at Club M. What an impossible thought.

“Something’s just occurred to me.” A slow smile spreads over Hunter’s face. “If you’re working at Leforte, you must have run into Dixie.”

“Mmm.”

“That’s all you’re going to say? Come on, Eric. I know your type, and Dixie is?—”

“Not it,” I interrupt before he can continue his sentence.

“Really?”

“I’m not looking for Cici 2.0,” I say bluntly.

“She’s too uptight for people like us. Dixie Ketcham is the type of woman who will marry the high school quarterback, have two-point-five children, and live in a house in the suburbs with white picket fences.

He’ll coach the kids’ soccer team while she drives a Volvo minivan and is active in the PTA.

If you’re attracted to her, you’re wasting your time. ”

And so am I.

Except there’s a frisson of electricity there. All week, I’ve done my best to avoid her, but every time I run into her in the kitchen, a jolt shocks me. I know chemistry, and this is it.

But chemistry is stupid. I’ve learned the hard way that attraction is no substitute for compatibility. Particularly, sexual compatibility. Cici taught me that.

“Normally, I’d agree with you,” Hunter says. “However?—”

“However what?” I don’t wait for him to answer. My gaze follows his to the bar, where the woman in the grey dress has turned around.

It’s Dixie Ketcham.

A few minutes earlier, I’d thought that Hunter was the last person I would have expected to see here. Turns out I’m wrong.

Well, well, what do you know? I thought I had a read on Dixie, but it turns out she’s full of surprises.