"What can I get for you?”
A man in a business suit, who was technically in line before me, guffawed. I glimpsed a black matte credit card outstretched in his hand while a wary look controlled his face. Little did the man know that oftentimes, a pair of voluptuous breasts carried a lot more weight than money.
"A vodka soda with a splash of cran, please. Oh, and a cherry on top.”
What the hell has gotten into me? A cherry on top? Really, Elle?
Although, it could be the fact I started drinking a few hours before leaving for the club.
"Coming right up, gorgeous," the bartender confirmed.
I turned around and pressed my back against the glass bar, knowing my drink would be ready momentarily. I took in the glittering of the tacky disco ball, colored smoke weaving in and around the bare-breasted dancers on stage, the hungry, desperate look in the men's eyes as they watched the women strut around with fake promises in their eyes.
I also scanned the crowd for Rose but couldn't spot her anywhere. She said Bruce Wayne would be here tonight, but she never mentioned not being here herself.
A tap on the shoulder roused me out of my concentration as I whipped around. The bartender stood with my drink in hand, a few extra cherries floating at the top of my sparkling cocktail.
"It's on the house." He winked.
"Thanks so much," I replied. When I reached for the glass, my hand grazed his just so. The touch sent shivers cascading down my spine.
With my liquor in hand, I perused the club, trying to choose where to sit. How would I know what Bruce Wayne looked like? There were plenty of men in suits, knuckles filled with dollar bills, in the club. What made him any different? And if I found him, how would I go about striking up a conversation? How could I find out if he had anything to do with Callie's murder without spooking him?
I chose a high-top table in the middle of the Hens' Den. I wasn't too close to the stage but not a wallflower either. I sipped my cocktail, careful not to drink too much too fast. I didn't want to get buzzed while working a lead. Then a thought crossed my mind: did the police speak to this Bruce Wayne already? Were they on the case? I made a mental note to give Officer Renlee a call tomorrow to see if I could squeeze any information out of him despite knowing that if I did, it would be interfering with an active investigation. But when someone you knew had been hurt, there was no line you wouldn't cross.
The Beyoncé song ended as men tossed crumpled bills onto the stage. The wiry girl with large glasses and a short pleated skirt bent down to pick them up. Her bare chest bounced with each step she took to collect her tips. I wondered how much confidence it took for a woman to expose herself to dozens of strangers? Or maybe it was the fact that it was strangers and not anyone she knew that made all the difference? Either way, I knew I didn't have the courage to show a little thigh let alone my entire body to a crowded room.
I gazed around the bar, attempting to breathe deeply and relax. Another girl strutted out. Her long icy blonde hair reached the small of her back while her diamond-studded lingerie set glittered under the bright lights. Rihanna's "Only Girl in the World" blasted through the sound system as the girl took to the pole at the center of the stage. She spun around effortlessly like she and the pole were one entity. I had to give it to her, that couldn't be easy.
Anxiety plagued my mind as I wondered if this was the best idea. Why did I think I'd waltz into the club, find this mysterious Bruce Wayne so easily and get him to spill the beans about his relationship with Callie? I finished the rest of my drink in one gulp as the warmth of the alcohol spread through my bloodstream. The familiar lull washed over me as my senses dulled ever so slightly. That's what I loved most about it, the fact it dimmed the world with ease.
"Can I buy you another drink?" a voice said behind me.
I turned around to see a man standing before me. He appeared to have stepped directly off a GQ magazine cover. The man, almost six and a half feet tall, smiled at me with perfect pearly teeth. His dirty blond hair was stylishly coiffed to the side while his muscles screamed through his fitted black t-shirt and designer jeans. I immediately looked to his hand and found no ring.
"I'd love that," I said as my heart pounded to the beat of the stereo system.
"I'll be right back," he said.
I smiled and turned back around in my seat. Butterflies romped around in my stomach. Memories of being a young girl pining over a boy swooshed into my consciousness. After Zac, I didn't think I'd ever be attracted to another man again. Most times, guilt stopped me from noticing other men. Even though Zac was gone, I didn't want to betray his memory. Then I remembered the night with Noah. Maybe I deserved to be manipulated by him. Maybe that's what you got when you slept with a snake, you got bitten.
The idea of having a drink with this man caused bile to reach my throat. What would Zac think of me drinking with a man to try and squeeze information out of him? I missed him so much it physically hurt. It was like when a person loses a limb, and they feel the phantom pain. The appendage is gone, but the ghost of the body part lingers forever.
A few minutes later, I turned around to catch a glimpse of the man pay at the bar, then strut over to me with a smile plastered across his perfectly sculpted face.
"Thank you." My cheeks flushed when the man handed me the colorful martini.
"I'm Hayden," he said.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Rose lingering in the shadows behind the stage and nodding curtly.
All this time I searched for Bruce Wayne, and he found me instead.
Seventeen
My pulse quickened. I counted to ten in my head as I desperately attempted to calm myself. Could I be sitting next to the man who murdered Callie Jacksun? Alcohol churned in my stomach while I tried to catch my breath.
"I'm Elle," I replied evenly. The urge to bite my nails overwhelmed me, but I needed to stay cool.
"Nice to meet you, Elle. Now what is a pretty woman like you doing alone in a place like this?" He sipped his bottled beer with a foreign label.
"I'm supposed to be meeting a friend," I lied.
He raised his eyebrows but didn't push the issue. He inched closer to where I sat until his cologne wafted toward me, increasing my heart rate tenfold. Sitting so close, I studied his flawless complexion. There was just something about him. It was easy to see how he could tangle a girl into his net. I couldn't blame Callie for being attracted to him.
I had to play this cool. He couldn't know I was a former officer, and I couldn't let the Keygate PD know I was speaking to a potential suspect, either. The Sergeant wouldn't be happy with my interference. I knew I toed the line between obstruction and innocent conversation closely, so I had to do whatever it took to stay on the right side.
"What brings you here?" I asked smoothly.
"I'm waiting for a friend." He winked.
"Clever," I replied with a smirk.
"Actually, I finished up a business meeting shortly before I saw a beautiful woman walking through the door, and I knew I had to buy her a drink.”
Color rose to my cheeks as my face felt hot. "Is that so? And what sort of person has a meeting at a strip club?”
Hayden, aka Bruce Wayne, chuckled. "I like to have some of my meetings outside the office. Allows my clients to relax a little bit."