I slid a tip to the bartender and headed to a table, waving so they could come over.
I watched them as they approached. Sam walked hand-in-hand with Beck and when he looked at her, it was with all the love in the world. Maybe it was the thoughts of Sammy Dedric, maybe it had something to do with Margot, but suddenly it seemed very important that I act. I needed to do something to wake him up, remind him that there were a thousand girls in the world, remind him that his freedom was at risk and so was the sacred brotherhood of the Knights Tempest.
“This is so cool!” Beck’s friend Kylie said, looking at the dance floor like she didn’t live in New York and see a thousand better options every Friday night.
“Shots anyone?” That, of all people, was Sarah.
The others paused a beat, but then agreed. Keegan and Jules went off to order them while the others put purses down and prepared for the dance floor.
“This is good, isn’t it?” Henry said, plopping down in the chair next to me. He nodded out at the floor, populated by drunk tourists pretending to be professional dancers. “Almost as good as a strip club. I think that chick has her tit out.”
I could always count on Henry to stay sane. I grinned at my friend and relaxed back into my chair. But something tugged at my mind, an idea, something Henry had said. When the picture became clear, my smile widened.
That’s an idea. The drunken whisper filled by brain with the first solid plan I’d had since we touched down. It’s perfect because it’s subtle. Just enough to show Sam what he’s missing.
I searched my pockets for my phone, pulling out the jumble of receipts and cash, my wallet and my keycard.
“Watch it,” Alice muttered. She was in the process of taking everything out of her purse for some reason and our stuff threatened to mix.
“You watch it,” I shot back, finally freeing my cell from the bottom of my pocket and dialing the number the concierge had discretely passed me when I’d checked in.
“Hello?” a voice answered.
I moved off so the others couldn’t hear me. I told him what I wanted and when.
“Of course, sir,” he said. “May I ask your room number?”
Shit. What was it again? I went back to the table and jostled through my stuff, grabbing my keycard. “Seven-oh-seven-nine,” I read to him.
“Very good. Anything else for you?”
“Add in a fifth of Johnnie Walker Black and a bag of gummy bears.”
“Very good, sir.”
I hung up and sat back in my chair. This was a fantastic plan.
Three hours later, I rode the elevator up to our rooms with Sam, Henry, Mason, and Keegan. It hadn’t been easy getting them to leave early and even less so getting them to leave without the girls. But after quite a bit of needling and the promise of a surprise, I’d managed to drag them away. Ironically, the plan was almost ruined by Sam, but Beck, of all people, managed to save the day by ushering him off, telling him to have fun and that she and the girls would be fine on their own. They had plenty to keep them occupied; at one AM, the party on the beach wasn’t even close to being over.
“Goddamn, I love Mexico,” Henry said, leaning against the side of the elevator, his shirt untucked, brown hair looking like he’d just been through a spin cycle. “This better be good, Mac, because I was about two minutes from coming up here with that blonde chick.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I said. “Just trust me. You’re not gonna regret it.”
I leaned against the elevator wall myself, unsteady on my feet, feeling that warm buzz of alcohol and confidence. And anticipation. Because this was going to be a night that went down as legend for the Knights. I’d go in the history books as a savior. Eventually.
I had to prepare for the fallout of the following days. Tonight I was planting a seed of doubt in Sam’s mind and it would grow quickly, vines twisting up the channels of his brain. I needed to bring my A game, be alert, prepared to water the fear when it took root and be there for him when this entire charade fell apart. He was going to need me by his side.
We poured out of the elevator and into the hallway.
“What room is yours?” Keegan asked thickly. He, Jules, Kylie, and Sarah had been doing shots all night and, of the five of us, he was the one who looked the closest to passing out. Which was too bad because he could take a lot away from this lesson as well.
That was okay though. It wouldn’t be an issue to teach it again back in New York.
I dug in my pocket for the key and pulled it out, following the numbers until we reached my door. I swiped it and turned to them. “This is for you, boys,” I said. Then I knocked briefly on the door and pushed it open.
“Helllllloooo,” a chorus of voices greeted us. I watched their faces instead of looking in. Every emotion ran the gauntlet as they took in the room I had the resort set up for us. Music, rotating colored lights, an actual pole and seven girls in thongs and pasties to adorn it. They swarmed the door, pulling us in and exclaiming how excited they were to show us a good time.
Hands roamed my body, the attention from a large-breasted girl wearing mostly glitter and a neon-red wig. I slipped nimbly out of her grasp and directed her at Sam. This night wasn’t about me.
The guys were still getting over the surprise, suddenly caught in a sensory overload as lights flashed and music blared and breasts came from every angle like mortar fire. They were being pushed around by these rather aggressive strippers and positioned around the pole where one was already doing gymnastics fully naked.
Henry and Keegan were sobering up, looking ecstatic. They were each shoved into chairs, and two girls started to gyrate against them to the music.
Mason, of course, was on the opposite end of the spectrum. He liked strippers; we’d been to enough clubs as a group for me to ever think otherwise. But I knew that he recognized my plan and disagreed with it. He was in a similar position as the other guys, but as a stripper danced against him, I could see he was stiff and wearing that pinched looked that I hated. Screw him. There was only one person who mattered tonight and he was on the couch getting the full attention of three of Mexico’s Finest.
Sam was a harder read than the others. He looked a little shell-shocked, not quite believing his eyes. One stripper sat on either side of him. They ran their hands through his hair, up his sides, down his legs, skillfully touching every part that wasn’t getting hit by the firm ass of the one giving him a lap dance.
The strippers were perfect, obvious professionals and hot as hell. As I watched Sam’s tipsy face work to take it all in, I couldn’t help but congratulate myself already. The plan was perfect. Bring together hot girls, good liquor, and the Knights and remind Sam how much fun we can have with just the five of us (and Twain). Put it in his mind that any possibility of this glorious scene happening again would disappear from his life in a few days.
I stood, smirking against a pillar, sipping from the Johnnie Walker, and watching the girl on the pole. I’d just popped open the bag of gummy bears when suddenly Sam’s hand was on my shirt, pulling me around.
“What the hell is this?” he demanded. My mood dropped. From the look on his face, I’d read the situation very, very incorrectly. He was angry, not happy. Not happy at all. The strippers he’d abandoned on the couch had moved on to Keegan, Henry, and Mason.