White Knight (Dirty Mafia Duet, #2)(6)

Her mouth forms an o, like she wants to speak, but she nods rather than replying.

I fish her cell phone out of my pocket and toss it to her before I turn and stalk away. The elevator doors close with her inside as I brush past Grice without a word.





5





Memphis





I dodged a bullet. A really, really big one that should have had at least one of my names engraved on the side.

As the elevator doors open once more on the floor for the Upper Ten, shivers rack my body like someone just tap-danced over my grave. Maybe it’s my father’s ghost warning me, trying to protect me from my own recklessness. He always told me to be careful, more careful than I would ever think to be. He was right, and I should have listened.

Then again, look where his need for the truth got him. Like father, like daughter.

Shaking off the chill, I make my way toward the door, which Grice opens with a questioning look on his face.

“Everything okay, Ms. Carson?” His thick New York accent seems even more pronounced today. “Anything you need help with?” He shifts his weight as if anxiously awaiting some very bad news. Like Teal being dead.

Oh Lord. It’s not my place to say a single word, but the look on his face engenders so much empathy that I can’t go on letting him wonder.

“Tanya had to take care of something. Cannon asked her to work the late shift tonight . . . after her sister is settled at her new place.” I whisper the last bit, hoping it will offer him some comfort.

Immediately, his shoulders relax and his entire posture changes. He glances up at the ceiling and makes a quick sign of the cross, like he just touched holy water at church.

When he meets my gaze once more, he smiles softly. “Thank you, Ms. Carson. I’ll be pulling a double today, so I’ll make sure to watch out for her coming back.” He swings the interior door to the club open and lets me walk through.

Cannon is nowhere to be seen, but Letty is running entrées out to a table seated for an early dinner and her brows jump to her hairline when she sees me.

I hurry toward the kitchen, intending to check on what else needs to go out, but Matteo, the club’s cigar sommelier, stops me next to the bar.

“Is Teal okay? We heard . . . things.” Matteo’s normally precisely starched shirt has a few wrinkles, as if he rushed out the door in yesterday’s uniform because he was in such a hurry to get here, and his cheeks are paler than normal.

Apparently, everyone got the emergency call and came running in.

I nod in response, biting my lip, because I’m not sure what else I should say to him. Probably nothing. But that doesn’t stop me from saying, “Tanya will be back with Warren late tonight. I’m sure she’ll be able to give you the whole story.”

The warm hue of his tanned skin returns as he takes a deep breath. “Okay. Got it. That makes sense.”

“Matteo.”

When Cannon shouts the man’s name, Matteo spins around to face our very unhappy-looking boss.

“Yes, Mr. Freeman?”

“You’re not supposed to be here until seven. If you want to stay, fine. But I’ll need you late tonight too. You decide if you want to work all the hours or just some.”

Matteo straightens and lifts his chin. “I’m here for the duration, Mr. Freeman. I’ve already sold several nice sticks this afternoon, and I think it’s going to be a great day for business.”

Cannon’s dark expression doesn’t shift. “Fine. Get to work. Ms. Carson has plenty to do being the only server we have for a while.”

Matteo scurries off, and Cannon stares hard at me for several long seconds before shaking his head and spinning around to return to his office.

The sight of him walking away hits me harder than it should. My eyes sting as I think of everything I’ve fucked up.

I wasn’t supposed to feel things.

I wasn’t supposed to fall for him.

What the hell do I do now?

My father’s rules of investigating didn’t cover what happens when you fall for the target and he finds out you lied to him and now hates your guts.

Before I can dwell on the situation any longer, a hand lands on my shoulder. I jerk away and stare up at Silas Bohannon’s face in shock.

“Sorry, I thought you heard me say your name.”

Gathering myself quickly, I straighten like Matteo did and paste a smile on my face. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Bohannon. I didn’t realize you were still here. What can I get for you? Another drink? Something to eat? A smoking room and Matteo?”

His eyes narrow on me, roving over my face like he recognizes my mask and is trying to see behind it. “A bottle of mineral water, and a Band-Aid for my ego.”

Confused, I pull my head back and stare up at him. “Excuse me, sir?”

“You’re totally blind to every man in the room when he’s around. Dangerous business to have a thing for your boss. Especially when it’s Cannon Freeman.”

“Uh, wh-what?” My dumbfounded tone and stuttering reply probably match my dazed expression.

“Don’t worry about it. Just . . . be careful, Drew. I don’t know how much you know about your boss, but you might want to learn a little more before you go racing down that road.”

We both turn to look in the direction Cannon just disappeared in, but he’s already through the hidden door.