Repeat Offender

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  “He knows you weren’t born yesterday, baby,” Tunnel’s dark, rusty from use voice said as he curled his arm around his wife. “You ready to go?”

  Mina turned in her husband’s arms and pressed her lips to his.

  “No,” she said. “You go play ghost and leave me and Lynn to dinner. I want to do a few things while I’m here. And you’re early. I haven’t eaten yet.”

  He snorted and let her go.

  “I’d join you, but I’m not dressed correctly,” he said, gesturing to his faded jeans, black t-shirt, and MC cut.

  “You did that on purpose,” Mina countered. “You knew that you were going to get here on time, you were just hoping that I wouldn’t make you stay. You want me here, but you don’t want to be seen with me… why?”

  He shrugged.

  “Let’s go,” I scoffed at them, unsure what the hell was going on but unwilling to dive anymore into it since I’d want to know what all was going on, and Tunnel wouldn’t tell me that.

  Tunnel, like me, was an entrepreneur, and did what he wanted to do and got paid to do it. Sometimes it was bad stuff. Sometimes it was good. Sometimes it was bad. And never did he share about his work unless he absolutely had to. Not with his wife, and not with me.

  Most assuredly not with me, because he didn’t want me in his business.

  Not that I could blame him. As his uncle, I found myself worrying about him when he did things to put his life in danger, and I especially didn’t like it when he made his wife scared.

  Needless to say, he was very careful about what he did and didn’t share.

  Mina, narrowing her eyes, latched onto my suit-covered arm and turned her head away from her husband.

  “Come on,” she said. “The faster we get this over with, the faster we find out what’s really going on here.”

  I led her inside, handing my keys off to the valet that was dressed as a clown.

  “Why are you dressed as a clown?” Mina asked my unspoken question.

  “Boss says to do it, we do it?” The valet shrugged. “I don’t pretend to know what he’s thinking. The theme is a circus, though. So that might be why. I wouldn’t wear the shoes he wanted, though, because I was going to be getting into people’s cars and driving them. Can you imagine me wrecking someone’s Porsche because I was wearing freakin’ clown shoes?”

  Laughing, Mina tugged me inside, her laughter filling the air as she walked with me.

  “Do you think…” Mina started talking, but I lost focus when I saw the woman in the black dress across the room from me.

  The function tonight was a small, intimate event. All of the elite of Dallas were in attendance, along with a few local mayors that supported their cause.

  I really hadn’t been thinking too closely on who would be there, because if I did, then I’d be thinking about who I wanted to be there but probably wasn’t going to be there.

  But seeing Six in the dress that fit her like a fuckin’ glove? Yeah, I’d been trying so hard not to think about her that seeing her in front of me had startled me to the point that I couldn’t listen to the woman talking at my side.

  “...are you even listening to me?” Mina asked, tugging on my sleeve.

  I swallowed hard, wishing Six would turn around, and replied, “No.”

  “Who are you staring at?” she asked curiously, trying to see over a man that’d stopped a waiter for a drink.

  I moved her with me, making sure that she saw the woman I’d been staring at.

  There really was no reason to hide it. I considered Mina my friend as well as my nephew’s wife. Before my nephew had found his way back to her, I’d watched over her, and eventually had become good friends with her despite who I was.

  “Oh, wow,” she said softly. “She’s beautiful. I love her long hair.”

  I loved it, too.

  Her hair was long, lavender, and curly.

  I hadn’t seen it quite so curly before.

  And God, that black dress exposed most of her back, almost all the way down to the dimples right above her butt.

  I could see just the slightest hint of a tattoo poking out from the bottom curve of the dress, right above her right hip, and I was all but gagging to find out what that tattoo was.

  “She’s stunning,” Mina said just as Six turned around, a frown on her face.

  That was when I saw the man standing next to her.

  He had a glass of wine in his hand and he was holding it right above the bare skin of her back.

  He’d touched her with the cold glass.

  I fisted my hands to keep my temper in check, then maneuvered Mina so that we were at the table we were going to be at for the night.

  A table that just so happened to have Six at it, too.

  Was that a coincidence?

  I had a feeling that it wasn’t.

  But whether it was due to the fact that Ivan was there, too, and wanted to talk shop, or because a little hellion had switched the names around, I didn’t know. Whatever the reason for her being at my table, I was quite satisfied.

  This night would prove not to be as boring as I’d suspected it would be.

  Plus, it gave me the ability to keep my eye on her.

  Like right now. I could clearly see her ripping into the asshole that’d touched her with the cold glass.

  CHAPTER 11

  I’m at the age where I’m permanently unimpressed by a lot of shit.

  -Six to Lynn

  SIX

  “Excuse me.” I stepped back. “Please, be courteous and give me some breathing room.”

  Don’t deck him, Six. Don’t deck him. Don’t deck him. It would be super, duper bad if you hit him. Like, your dad may never forgive you. Don’t deck him.

  “I’m sorry.” The man smirked. “Did I touch you?”

  This asshole.

  This was the dude who had done this same thing the last time I’d seen him at one of my father’s parties. I didn’t know his name, because asking for it would make it seem like I was interested, and I sure the hell wasn’t.

  He was a little trust fund baby, though. He was way too young to be self-made. About my age, but definitely a whole lot less mature.

  He knew he fucking touched me. The jerk.

  “Yes.” I smiled congenially. “You did. Now, kindly back off before I shove my knee into your balls.”

  His face changed as he took a startled step back. Whether it was because he hadn’t expected hostility after that stunt, or because he didn’t expect a woman to be so pissy, I didn’t know. But whatever the reason, I didn’t fucking like the fact that he’d touched me.

  The wanker.

  “That was uncalled for,” he said hastily, an angry mask slipping over his face.

  “What wasn’t called for was you touching a girl with a cold glass of wine when you knew it would startle her,” I countered. “It’s called socially acceptable distance. Please, learn what that is for the next party you attend.”

  The man’s smile returned.

  “The next party, maybe you’ll be off the rag,” he teased.

  At least, he thought he was being funny. He wasn’t.

  “I’m not on the rag, thank you very much.” I gritted my teeth to keep from barking a curse at him. Once I thought I had myself under control, I downed the rest of my wine and placed it on the nearest table. “Maybe you should learn how to speak with people you don’t know, too.”

  “I don’t feel like I don’t know you. I’ve seen you around these things before. My mother makes me attend them with her as her plus one. You don’t ever look happy to be here, either. What’s your name?” he asked, moving closer.

  I took another step back.

  I knew that I was right about the trust fund part.

  Spoiled rotten asshole.

  “I also saw that I’m at the same table with you,” he continued. “It looks like we’re sitting down now to get started. May I offer you my arm?”

  I’d rather fall on my face in front of all of t
hese people than take his arm. Which I could tell that he noticed.

  His lips turned up into an evil grin. “Did I mention that your dad needs campaign money, and my mother is one of his highest donators?”

  Fuckin’ great.

  Still, I didn’t give a flying fuck if my dad won re-election or not. Honestly, he could get beat out tomorrow and I wouldn’t cry a single tear.

  Turning my back on the asshole, I crossed the room to my table, hoping beyond hope the asshole wasn’t actually seated at our table. And if he was, I prayed he was far enough away from me that I wouldn’t have to sit next to him.

  It was when I was about ten feet away from the table I’d be sitting at for the night that I saw who was also seated at our table.

  I all but froze solid at the sight of him.

  His eyes were on me, too.

  A grin kicked up the corner of Lynn’s mouth, and I stared at him blankly.

  That blank look slipped off my face when a shot of ice went down my spine.

  That coldness slipped down the crack of my ass, and then further down the length of one leg.

  I whirled around and glared at the man that’d apparently been following me too closely.

  “Are you fucking kidding me right now?” I growled. “Back the fuck off!”

  The man held his hands up. “Sorry, you just stopped really fast, and I wasn’t prepared for you to.”

  “Maybe if you learned that thing called personal space, you would have been prepared,” I snapped, whirling around and stomping toward the table and my chair, which happened to be right the hell across from the smirking Lynn.

  I’d just reached my chair when I saw the woman at Lynn’s side touch his arm to get his attention. She was showing him something on her phone, and Lynn smiled.

  My heart all but stopped.

  Because in all of the scenarios that played in my head when I thought about seeing him again, none of them had a woman in it.

  At least, not a woman that wasn’t me.

  “Can I get your chair for you?” the shithead asked.

  I ignored him and reached for the cloth napkin that was at the place in front of my nametag, then reached backward and cleaned off my back and what I could reach of my leg.

  Luckily, the splash was only a small spot.

  I hoped that it didn’t stain Wyett’s dress.

  When I was done getting what I could from the back, I then bent down and got what I could from the bottom, going all the way up to my knee before I decided that any further would likely be indecent.

  When I returned to standing normal, the man that was indeed sitting at our table with us sat down. Luckily four spots over from mine, which meant my father, when he returned to his seat, would actually be between us.

  Thank God.

  When I placed the napkin down onto the table, I glanced at Lynn once again under my eyelashes and saw that his eyes were fixated on me.

  My heart, already beating fast due to his nearness, went into overtime.

  Damn, the man was really potent.

  Like, if it were possible, I’d self-implode right there in front of him.

  “Lynnwood.” The man that’d done the spilling sat down.

  “William,” Lynn replied back, voice clipped.

  “Who is your date?” William asked.

  “This is Mina.” Lynn gestured to the ‘date.’

  I felt my stomach pitch in response.

  Mina smiled tightly at William, making me actually like her.

  Dammit.

  That sucked, because I didn’t want to like her. Not when she was sitting next to the man that I’d become stupidly obsessed with.

  “Hello, Mina.” William’s creepy smirk had me curling my lip at him in disgust.

  Luckily, my father chose that moment to head toward our table.

  Not that I really wanted to see him or anything, but it was better than whatever William the weirdo was gearing up toward.

  “Hello.” My father’s thick Russian accent interrupted Mina’s response. “How are you, Lynn?”

  Lynn nodded toward my father. “Good. You?”

  “Well, well,” my father replied.

  And, like always, my father didn’t acknowledge anyone else at the table.

  Though, it wasn’t a male/female thing but instead a ‘you’re not worth my time’ kind of thing.

  Hell, I hadn’t gotten greeted yet, and he was my father.

  He took the seat beside me without so much as a ‘hello’ to anyone else, then leaned back and pulled his phone out of his pocket.

  “We’re supposed to start soon,” Father said to the table—or, more importantly, Lynn.

  William, obviously perturbed by no greeting, turned to Lynn with a sneer on his face.

  I pulled out a flask from my purse and twisted off the top.

  It didn’t have liquor in it, though. It had grape Kool-Aid. I was fairly sure that the bullshit they were going to try to serve me would suck.

  And I’d be right.

  There was a glass of water on the table, and the wine that I’d gotten from the server earlier had tasted too dry for my liking.

  I was more of a sweet and get you drunk fast kind of girl. The wine that my father had circulating was probably some expensive crap that other people would love—me, not so much.

  When I looked up from taking a second swig, it was to find the table looking at me.

  Even my father.

  “Must you embarrass me?” he asked with a grumble.

  I frowned. “How did I do that?”

  I followed that question up with a healthy swig of my flask.

  He gestured toward it with a flick of his wrist. “That. You’re drinking from a flask at my event.”

  “I’m drinking from a flask because you serve shitty wine and you know I don’t really do water,” I countered.

  I was a sweet tea, coffee, Dr. Pepper kind of girl. Water was only for when I was sick, hungover, or working out.

  “You could at least appear to be normal,” he growled.

  I took another swig of my flask, causing someone across the table to snort.

  The date.

  Shit.

  I tucked it back into my purse for the time being and glanced at the brownie that was there in case desperation hit later.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for joining us this evening!” someone said from the front of the room.

  I started to unwrap the brownie from its plastic.

  “Have you ever been called Woody before?” the jerk that’d spilled his wine down my back asked.

  I broke off a small piece of the delicacy.

  “Have you ever been called Dick before, William?” Lynn countered.

  I paused with a bite of brownie halfway to my lips.

  Dick. Oh my God. That would fit him perfectly.

  “Now, now.” A newcomer entered the table, a wave of perfume following her. “Be nice to my boy, Lynnwood.”

  William’s mother.

  “Natalia.” Lynn nodded his head. “How are you this evening?”

  Ivan snorted. “Probably pissed because I heard her reaming her assistant out for something when I was on the way to the table.”

  “I swear, she’s incompetent.” Natalia groaned. “I have to tell her, time after time, that she’s not to send me to these types of events with a rental car. Yet, she continues to do so.”

  “She continues to do so, from what I’d heard, because you like to drink,” Lynn said, making my brows rise. “And there’s no other way to get you home.”

  “I bring my son for a reason.” Natalia patted the ‘boy’ at her side.

  He was busy downing his third glass of wine.

  Lynn made a disbelieving sound in his throat, then threw his arm around Mina’s chair and leaned back.

  It was as if the move was absent, as if he would do that whether his date was there or not, but when she leaned forward and whispered something into his ear, a jealous ball of anger filled my belly
.

  I looked away, wishing that I’d brought my phone in from the car.

  But it’d been dead because I’d forgotten to plug it in last night, and on my drive here, I hadn’t realized it wasn’t charging until much too late.

  I popped a bite of brownie into my mouth, then pulled out the sudoku puzzle that I’d hidden in there, along with my pen.

  Absently as I munched on my brownie, I played the puzzle, very unaware of whatever was going on at the table until my father snatched my pen out of my hand.

  “For the love of God,” he growled, throwing the pen down to the middle of the table. “Can you at least act like you’re not a child?”

  I glanced up at him while trying to calm my nerves.

  “I would, yes,” I said. “If there was something to do that didn’t include me sitting here, bored out of my mind, while I listened to you old motherfuckers talk about stuff that I don’t want to talk about.”

  There was another giggle from Lynn’s date, but this time, I didn’t find it nearly as cute.

  It annoyed me.

  “Ines…” My father leaned in.

  “Father,” I said. “And don’t call me that. My name is Six.”

  “I don’t care what your name is or isn’t,” he hissed, voice low. “You’re embarrassing me.”

  “You’re embarrassing yourself,” I countered as I stood up.

  Or I would have but just as I did, a waiter appeared with a bowl of some bullshit broth or something, causing me to pause halfway out of my chair.

  He placed it on the table in front of me and moved to my father.

  Placing his on the table in front of him, I was finally free to move.

  Only, my father had his hand on my leg.

  “Stay,” he ordered. “Or you’ll regret it.”

  I fumed.

  The only way he could ‘make me regret it’ was by forcing me to attend yet another one of his functions in the next coming weeks. As long as I went to one out of every four or so, he was okay. But when he didn’t see my face at at least one, he’d start to hound me until I either attended or lost my shit.

  Most of the time I just attended because then I’d immediately feel bad for not going.

  In the end, he was still my father.

  But honestly, this was getting to be more of a business support than anything else at this point.