“Yes,” she admitted. In more ways than one.
He pulled out two fresh glasses. He filled them both with ginger ale, then added an umbrella and cherry on top. “Here’s a drink I’ve gotten to know well.”
They tapped glasses, but she only took a sip, more interested in the way his throat moved when he swallowed.
He put the glass down and leaned over the bar. “Did you get a good look?” he asked, quietly. “When I turned around, that is.”
This time, she couldn’t hide the fire in her cheeks. So she hadn’t fooled him.
He picked the cherry out of his drink, and popped it in his mouth. “I’ll get my turn later,” he said, and she wrapped her hands tighter around her sweating glass.
She didn’t get to answer, not that she had anything witty to say. Two guards appeared next to them. “Ma’am. Sir. We need you to come with us,” the larger one said, and the relief at his next words nearly made her light-headed. “Mr. Rao would like to speak with you immediately.” He cleared his throat and handed her a large jacket. “He’d also like for you to put this on, please, ma’am. He said he’d rather not see his niece dressed like this.”
Chapter Twelve
Sunil Rao wasn’t what Naveen was expecting. He was small and rotund, dressed in a garish velvet red-and-gold smoking jacket. His round cheeks split with dimples when he smiled. He also had an eye patch, like a very jolly pirate.
He waved them into his expansive office on the top floor. His office was as luxurious as his jacket, decorated in hot pink and black, with a huge desk with a throne-like gold chair in the corner. The wall behind the desk was made up entirely of security monitors that showed every single angle of the club.
Sunil dismissed the security guards who had escorted them up. “My God, Mira. Is this Mira? I would have never recognized you.” Sunil beamed at them and came around the desk. He grabbed Mira’s hands and brought them to his lips. The oversize suit jacket they’d given her nearly covered her hands. “I haven’t seen you since you were a baby. This big.” He looked at Naveen curiously. “And this is . . . ?”
She adjusted the jacket. It wasn’t the most full-coverage garment, but at least it mostly hid her bustier and broke the worst of the spell she’d cast over Naveen.
It did mean, sadly, that he hadn’t gotten to see the back of her.
What are you doing, flirting with your ex while in mortal danger? Truly, he had no idea, and he didn’t think he’d been consciously flirting. He’d seen her, touched her, and opened his mouth.
He’d known he was going to be in trouble even before she’d wandered close to the bar, when he saw what all the waitresses were wearing—or rather, not wearing. Still, the force of his attraction had hit him like a swift kick in the gut, letting out all the air he’d been holding, thanks to fucking Brad and his unnecessary comments. His whole plan of cautiously trusting her for this specific circumstance had gone out the whole damn window.
Being a team does not mean ogling your teammate’s ass. Or informing them of said ogling.
Mira gestured to him. “This is Naveen.”
Naveen nodded. He was used to dealing with honorary uncles, but not ones who also owned a lucrative strip club. “Hello, sir.”
Sunil squinted at him. “You’re not a cop, right? You have a cop air about you. As soon as you two snuck in, I thought, this man may be a cop.”
Mira took a step forward. “You saw us come in?”
“Of course.” Sunil gestured to the bank of television screens. “I see everything. I didn’t know who you were, but Glenda seemed to recognize you. It was only when I started to see you wander aimlessly, Mira, that I took a closer look.” Sunil’s lips thinned. “I will have to give Glenda some training on being able to tell people apart, I see. But! Back to my original question, son.”
“I’m not a cop. But I am a lawyer,” Naveen offered.
Sunil shuddered. “That might be worse. But a good thing to have as a boyfriend. Well done. A nice, handsome-looking boy.” Before either of them could correct him, Sunil continued. “It’s good to see you, Mira. Or meet you, I suppose, as an adult for the first time. I just feel like I know you, from your father.”
“Is that right?” she murmured.
“Yes. He used to talk about you all the time. Come in, have a seat.” He gestured to the hot pink suede couch and sat in the giant leather armchair across from it.
Mira perched gingerly on the very edge of the sofa. “We need your help, Sunil.”
Naveen dropped down next to her. The couch was too cushiony, and he tried not to slide against Mira.
“Please, call me Sunil Uncle.” His skin was leathery and tough, like he spent far too many hours baking in the Nevada sun. A thick handle-bar mustache drooped over his upper lip. It was the kind of mustache at least four of Naveen’s uncles were proud of. “What kind of help?”
“There are some people after us. They say my dad stole something from them.”
Sunil’s sigh was long and low. “Fuck.”
Mira drew back slightly, and Naveen echoed her. It didn’t sound like Sunil was surprised at all, which did not give him any kind of good feeling.
Naveen shifted, ready to grab Mira and bolt, half-dressed or not. “They kidnapped us,” he emphasized.
“They’re holding my sister hostage and have threatened Naveen’s family.”
A range of emotions flickered over his face. “Ah, no. I hoped they wouldn’t go that far.”
Naveen tried not to growl. “Sounds like you know these people.”
“I don’t know them intimately.” The man sat forward on the chair and flipped up his eye patch. A large purple bruise decorated his eye. “A couple of men jumped me when I was on my way to my car last week. Kept asking me about the necklace. Luckily, my security team came quickly and they ran. I’ve been very cautious since, not that I go out very much.”
The way he said the necklace and not a necklace had Naveen narrowing his eyes. “You do know about the jewels he allegedly stole.”
“Not allegedly. He stole them.” Sunil released a deep sigh and stood. He went to the bar cart in the corner. “I need a drink. You want a drink?”
“I’m good,” Mira answered Sunil, and he echoed her. He had seen more alcohol tonight than he had in years. His grandfather had removed everything from his home, even beer, and the friends he hung out with the most nowadays, other than Aparna and her kid, were fellow former addicts from rehab or group therapy. They obviously avoided bars and clubs.
He was a little surprised he wasn’t more tempted. Two years ago, he would have needed that drink too, but not in a remotely healthy way, and he would have taken the buzz happily to forget about whatever negative emotions he held. He’d had to consciously learn how to be uncomfortable with his own feelings, and he was grateful to see that some of his work might be paying off.
It had also been easier than he’d thought, telling Mira about his sobriety. It had slipped into the conversation pretty naturally.
Her uncle poured his scotch. “Vassar was one of my best friends, the Porthos to my Athos. I knew about all his jobs.” Sunil came back to his seat. “He told me he was going to get his biggest score ever. So big I told him not to do it.”