It was perfect. Actually, the best he’d ever—
“Best you ever had?” she murmured. “I get that a lot.” She sent him a smile. One that, like in the photo, never reached her eyes. “Enjoy the drink.” Alice turned away.
“What does it take?” He savored the drink. You didn’t down an old-fashioned of this caliber. When something was special, you took your time with it.
Alice paused. Glanced over her shoulder at him. “Trust me when I say that you can’t handle me.”
“You’d be surprised at what I can handle.”
She motioned toward the crowd behind him. “Go try that smile out there. I’m sure your luck will be outstanding. Lots of women go for that dark-and-dangerous vibe.”
“But not you.” Another taste of his drink. His eyes remained on her.
She turned to fully face him. “I’m not interested in wannabe danger.”
Oh, this was intriguing. No, she was. “You only go for the real deal?”
Once more, she leaned over the bar. Her scent teased him. But she didn’t speak. Instead, she searched his gaze. He wondered just what it was that Alice was looking for as she stared at him so hard with those topaz eyes of hers.
“You want real danger?” he rasped as the tension seemed to stretch between them. “How do you know I can’t give you that?”
Her lips parted. She was going to—
“That’s her.” A woman’s voice, coming from right behind Saint. One of the excited voices he’d caught before as he made his way through the crowd. He was pretty sure that was the woman who’d wanted—
“May I please get a picture with you?” The woman leapt toward the bar. “Please? It would be so great. I mean, I have these friends who would not believe that I was actually brave enough to stand right beside—”
Alice’s gaze turned to the woman. Hardened. No smile curved Alice’s lips.
The woman stopped talking. Her voice just broke off in that unnatural, nervous way that always showed clear embarrassment.
“Beside what—exactly?” Alice asked with a faintly quizzical air.
Saint glanced at the woman who’d nudged her way so close to Alice. The woman’s hair was jet-black, and her skin had flushed dark red. He could smell the alcohol drifting off her, and he realized a lot of her boldness came from the booze.
One of her friends tried to grab her arm and haul her back. “Genna!” A low, warning hiss.
“Ah…she meant right beside the owner of the speakeasy!” Another friend hurried to exclaim. “That’s all Genna meant. Just because the place is so popular.” She grabbed the flushing woman’s other shoulder. “Genna, come on.”
Genna stumbled back. She clutched her phone in one hand, and she still seemed to be trying to take a photo—
The phone was plucked out of her hand. “Alice doesn’t take pictures with guests.” The man who’d taken the phone shook his head, and the light glinted off his blond hair. “How about I call you ladies a cab?”
Which Saint realized was polite speak for…Your asses are getting tossed out.
“Thanks, Logan,” Alice murmured. “I think a cab is exactly what they need.”
Logan led the women away. Saint quickly assessed him. Big, muscled, and with an attitude that pretty much screamed bouncer or bodyguard. The guy had slid silently toward the bar to reach Alice. My money is on bodyguard. But in order to have a bodyguard, Alice would need enemies.
He turned back to ask her about those enemies—
But Alice was gone. He blinked. Looked again. Even leaned over the bar to make sure she hadn’t just bent down to get something but…no, gone.
Saint slowly lowered back onto his stool. He lifted his glass once more, and as he did, he noticed the little napkin that Alice had slid under the drink. Black, with white letters emblazoned across the top.
Abracadabra.
Fuck. He was even more curious about her now.
***
Two a.m. meant closing time. A few stragglers always remained, but Logan knew how to handle them. He was good at getting people to do what he wanted. Mostly because her manager could be intimidating as hell.
“You just like to play with fire, don’t you?” Logan asked as he walked her to the back door. The private exit.
“I have no idea what you mean.” Yes, she knew exactly what he meant.
“You know crazed Alice fans will want to get close to you. You’re supposed to stay out of sight when the place gets too packed.”
She reached up and patted his cheek. “But if I’m out of sight, then how are they going to rush back and tell their friends that they saw me?” She let her eyes widen. “Infamous little old me.” Infamous in certain circles. The crime-obsessed circles. “You know I always come out for a bit.” Working the bar let her take stock of everyone in her place, and, sometimes, people didn’t even realize who she was. At least, not until after they’d spilled their secrets to her.
Bartenders learn all the best secrets. Something she’d discovered years ago.
“The crime tour is starting to come this way,” he grumbled. “I saw a group out front, staring up at the building on my way in tonight as some guide rumbled on and on.”
She had to laugh. “You act like that’s a bad thing.” Alice pushed open the door. “Tourists just mean more money. Something you used to love.” Behind the building, her precious cherry-red convertible waited about twenty feet away.
“I still love money,” Logan assured her. “Money is my favorite thing in the entire world.”
Yes, she knew it was. Logan had grown up with nothing, just as she had, so when it came to acquiring wealth—and all the glorious trappings that came with that wealth—he was quite passionate. “Then why are you complaining?”
“Don’t you get tired of them all whispering about you?” The words seemed to explode from him. “I sure do!”
She shook her head. “I don’t care what they say. As long as they are coming in my place, giving me their money, they can whisper all they want.”
“Alice…” His phone beeped and vibrated. He yanked it out. Swore when he saw the screen. “Got to head back in. Marcel needs me at the front door.” But he lingered.
She sighed. “You’ve walked me to my car. Done your due diligence. I’m safe and sound. Go.” She motioned with her hands. “I’m fine.”
And he finally went. Grudgingly. Alice held her keys in one hand, and she waited until he’d disappeared inside, waited until the door had closed behind him and… “Is there a reason you’re hiding in the shadows?” she asked, pitching her voice to carry, but making sure she still sounded calm and relaxed. “Or do you just enjoy stalking women you’ve just met?” Her head turned to the right. Toward the darkness on the edge of her building.
Toward the man that she knew waited in the darkness.
There was a faint rustle of sound, and then she heard the soft pad of footsteps. Alice found herself holding her breath as he slowly emerged.
Big, bad, and wannabe dangerous. The man from the bar. Her old-fashioned customer. He walked from the shadows as if they were a part of him, and Alice had to admit that he could certainly create a dramatic scene.