Hunt and Prey (Kelsey's Burden Series Book 8), Kaylie Hunter [best motivational books txt] 📗

turned toward others. I had my father to thank for that paranoia—the bastard.

“Good evening, Evie,” I said as I claimed my stool. “How’s tricks?”

She flashed her blinding smile my way as she laughed. She’d told me once that she got a lot of crap for working at a sex club. People often mistook her employment as being a prostitute or a stripper. Being she worked on one of the member-only floors, the general population could only speculate as to what transgressed on the upper levels. If they could access the floor, they’d see her uniform consisted of a crisp white, button-up blouse and a simple black pencil skirt that ended just above the knee.

“It’s slow tonight, but tips are up, so all is well,” she said, leaning her elbows onto the bar. “How about you? Did you break all the men’s hearts downstairs with your teasing?”

“Teasing? Please. If there was a man worth pursuing, I’d be all over it. I need to get laid.” I tipped my head toward the all-glass wall. “The most tempting offer I saw down there was a wanna-be banker with a tan line around his ring finger.”

She shuddered. “Yuck. Bankers are the worst.”

A man who’d been eavesdropping from the other end of the bar, stood, preparing to walk our way. I held up a hand to stop his forward motion, and scanned him, not-so-discreetly, from head to toe. “Not even if I was desperate,” I said loud enough for him to hear.

He sat down, disappointment dragging his face downward.

“Play nice, Kid,” Evie said to me as she walked down the length of the bar. “Bobby here is going to make some lucky lady very happy someday soon. He’s a catch.” She reached over the bar and pinched his chubby cheek.

He blushed.

Oh, boy. He must be one hell of a tipper. I took another long drink of my water before moving it to the other side of the bar top. Evie would exchange it for a real drink when she returned. I scanned the room while I waited. Several of the booths had customers, varying in groups from two to eight. Only one of the center tables was occupied. And they had clearly been here for a while based on their glassy eyes and loud conversations.

“Are you staying for a while? I need to I cut them off.” Evie said from the other side of the bar, nodding toward the center table.

“I’ll jump in if needed, but this dress wasn’t made for bar brawls. Best to give them a warning and have security on standby.”

“One of them is a senator’s son,” Evie whispered. “I’m less worried about a fight than I am of getting sued.”

I snorted. “Is his father a member?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t come in often, but he’s a VIP to this floor.”

“Have Baker call Daddy and tell him it’s past his son’s bedtime.”

Evie raised an eyebrow but reached for the six-line phone behind the bar, calling Baker. It was a short call, and we both waited to see what happened next. The young man at the end of the table lifted his phone when it started to ring. He must have hit the ignore button though, because he set it down without answering and continued telling a loud and offensive joke. Ten seconds later he picked up his phone again and as he read the screen, he stood, looking pale. He pulled a credit card from his wallet and flashed it at a nearby server. When the server disappeared with his card, he told his friends it was time to leave. Within five minutes, the entire group stepped into the elevator.

“Damn,” Evie said, laughing as she set a glass of whiskey in front of me. “He’s a grown ass man.”

I lifted my glass, but paused before taking a drink. “A grown ass man who’s likely living off Daddy’s bank account.”

I felt eyes watching me and glanced around.

The corner booth, the first booth along the glass wall, was occupied by a tall, muscular man with dark features. He sat alone, drinking a beer. When I spotted him watching us, he quickly turned to peer out the window.

“Who’s that? I don’t recognize him.”

“He just started coming in this week,” Evie said. “He might be a voyeur, but he must not be able to afford the membership fees for the upper floors. I keep catching him watching me. It’s kind of spooky, but security’s keeping tabs on him.”

“Pull his name off his membership card. I’ll run a background.”

“No need,” Baker said, sitting on the barstool next to me. He tossed a file on top of the bar. “My computer guy spent two days digging, and what little he found doesn’t ring true.”

I opened the file and rifled through the usual birth records, driver’s license information, and employment history. The man claimed to be a wealthy real estate developer, but I spotted two red flags right away. One, I’d met plenty of real estate developers during my years working with my cousin to build our investments, and they typically spent a lot of energy looking and sounding like they were brimming with cash. This guy’s suit was at least a decade old, and he was sitting alone instead of trying to chase the next deal. Two, I knew for a fact that he didn’t own the small retail mall in Pompano Beach that was listed in the file as part of his portfolio, because it just so happened that it was owned by a shell company my cousin and I owned.

I closed the file and slid it back to Baker. “I’ll handle it.”

“He’s been in here four nights this week.”

“I said I’d handle it,” I repeated, raising an eyebrow at Baker.

“If you do something stupid because of the club, Kelsey will kill me.”

“Kid?” Evie laughed as she set a