“When you stop wagging your tongue at her,” Rhys told him.
Hunt barked a laugh. “Never going to happen. Damn, that woman haunts my dreams.”
“Exactly. You’re too invested,” Rhys called over his shoulder on his way to his desk. He took a seat, looking Kieran’s way. “You interested?”
“Fuck, yeah.” Kieran slapped Hunt’s back and gave him a shit-eating grin. “Don’t worry, Hunt, she’ll take real good care of me.”
“Lucky bastard,” Hunt breathed, envy seeping into his gaze.
Before they all left, Rhys said, “Show up tonight. All of you.”
All eyes turned back to him, but it was Hunt who asked, “Why? Planning something special?”
Rhys grinned and knew that for them to understand his intent for the evening, he only needed to say, “I could use some extra hands.”
Zoey spent the day cleaning the loft and doing a week’s worth of laundry to keep herself from thinking about returning to Manhattan tonight. But the time came, and Zoey left Brooklyn behind and made her way into the city. Though, this time, she noticed a slight change on the subway ride. Her excitement to see Rhys again stole some of the cold fear away. An idea that bewildered her, until all thoughts vanished as she arrived at Café Rouge. She couldn’t stop gawking at the quaint space. She wasn’t sure what she’d expected to find after Rhys’ invitation, but a coffee shop didn’t scream sexy. A few people sat at the booths along the left-hand side while one person worked behind the counter. Not seeing anything else to guide her on what she was meant to do next, she approached the barrister.
“Hi,” the thirty-something blond woman said. “What can I get for you?”
“I’m not quite sure,” Zoey answered. “I’m Zoey Parker.”
“Ah, Zoey, I’ve been expecting you. Please come with me,” the woman replied with what Zoey took to be a pleasant smile. “I’ve got what you need just in the back.”
Zoey hesitantly followed, not wanting to look back to catch anyone’s eye. She stayed close to the woman into the back storage room. Boxes of coffee lined the one wall, and there was a small kitchen, where some baked goods were currently sending scents of warm apples and cinnamon the air.
“I know it doesn’t look like much,” the woman said, “but we’ve got some cool hiding spots.” She pulled open a shelf with glass canisters, revealing an old set of stairs.
Zoey leaned forward and glanced down, peering into a place where any sane person wouldn’t go. “What is it?” Zoey asked.
“The tunnels from Prohibition,” the woman explained. “They used them to secretly get alcohol into the cigar club. When Rhys bought the bar, he also bought all the businesses where the tunnels ended.”
“That must have been expensive.”
The woman gave a grin that told Zoey how stupid her statement was. “The Harrington family is old money, honey. I imagine it didn’t break the bank.”
A flush crept over Zoey, but she clamped down against it, refusing to let the old her run the show. All of this was out of her league, and she totally wasn’t this bold and brave woman, but after all she’d been through, she deserved this thrill. She needed this thrill. “So, I just go down there, then?”
“Yup. Just walk to the end of the tunnel. Security will greet you there.”
“Okay, thank you.” Zoey began the climb down the ladder.
Right before the woman shut the shelf, she gave a wide smile. “Enjoy yourself tonight, honey.”
“Thanks. That’s the plan.” Zoey returned the smile, continuing her climb down as the light above her vanished.
When she reached the bottom of the ladder, she saw a long, straight tunnel made of old stone, and if she closed her eyes, she could swear she caught the scents of the oak barrels that must have been hidden down here through Prohibition. Brightly lit sconces lined the walls as she made her way down the tunnel, her high heels clicking against the cobblestone floor. She rounded one bend at the very end and then came to a stop outside a wrought-iron door. She knocked once, and the loud unclicking of a lock echoed in the underground tunnel then the heavy door slowly opened, revealing a small room, not much bigger than a walk-in closet.
“Good evening, Zoey,” a security guard with kind eyes said, like they were already friends. “Rhys has been expecting you. Please come in.”
“Thank you.” She stepped through the door, feeling like all of this was impossible. That, any minute now, she was going to wake up and realize this had all been some wild, incredible dream.
The security guard locked the door behind her and moved to the small desk, where a telephone and computer rested. He had the phone to his ear a moment later. “Zoey has arrived. Yes. All right. Very well.”
He returned the phone to the receiver right as another door to Zoey’s left opened and a gorgeous brunette wearing a tight black dress walked in. “Zoey, hi. I’m Lottie.”
“Hi,” Zoey said, finding it near impossible to stop herself from gawking at the woman.
“My eyes, right?” Lottie asked with a lopsided smile.
“I’m sorry for staring,” Zoey said in a hurry. “They’re just the most beautiful color I’ve ever seen. Are they—”
“Amethyst,” Lottie finished. “Yeah, and yes, before you ask, they’re one-hundred-percent natural.” She gestured for Zoey to follow. “Come on, we don’t want to be late. Everyone gets grumpy when that happens.”
Zoey wasn’t exactly sure what she was going to be late for, but she gave the security guard a goodbye wave and stepped through the doorway. “Where are we going?”
Lottie linked her arm with Zoey’s. “To shop.”
Two doors down the hallway, Zoey understood what Lottie meant. They entered a room the size of a boutique, only this room was full of high-class lingerie. Wall to wall, there was every type of fabric, from leather to lace, in the entire color wheel. “Wow,” Zoey breathed.
“I know, right?” Lottie shut the door behind them then gestured out. “Go on, pick whatever you like for the night.”
“Seriously?”
Lottie nodded. “Free lingerie is part of Phoenix’s membership.”
“But I’m not a member,” Zoey gently reminded her.
“You’re Rhys’ guest,” Lottie countered. “That’s one and the same.”
“Where does he get all this?”
“It all comes from a shop here in Manhattan. The owner, Adalyn, is a longtime Phoenix member.”
Zoey’s brows shot up. “I thought this club was a private one. Masks. No names. No identity. That type of thing.”
Lottie shrugged. “Adalyn uses her name on the regular, probably because Phoenix members are rich. She wants the clients.” Lottie went quiet and tilted her head, giving Zoey a long once-over and approached the racks with the green lingerie. She picked out a sexy, strappy, dark-teal set. “If you ask me, go for this. You’ll look amazing in this color.”
“It’s gorgeous. Thank you.”
Lottie handed Zoey the piece. “The changing room is right over there.” She gestured to a small fitting room off to the side. “The heels you have on will look great.”