"I'm not worried. I know she'll be at work tonight, and she can't get away from me then."
"My money's on you."
Darian grinned. "Mine is, too," he said and walked to the elevator. He planned to get some work done before he met up with his runaway later that evening. She wouldn't get away from him this time.
Darian hadn't been able to get her out of his mind. Maybe it was the fact he'd saved her the night before from those men that it made him feel like she was already his, but he knew he'd have to mellow out a bit or chance scaring her.
He walked into the Cigar Lounge later that night. He knew he'd never been to the place but admitted the place was very classy, expensive-looking, and definitely masculine. Dark wood walls and brown leather furniture were set in groups around the room, and then also several tables and comfortable chairs. It was a place men could come to relax for an extended period of time. It was an exclusive establishment, but he had no trouble getting a membership.
"Ah, Mr. Marsh."
Darian turned to see a tall thin man headed his way. He held out a hand. "Are you Mr. Turnbell?"
"Yes, sir." The man smiled. "But you, of course, can call me, Bert."
"Bert. It's nice to meet you."
"Would you like to see our display of cigars?"
"Not right now. May I sit and have a drink?"
"Oh, of course. What can I get you?"
"Scotch, please."
"I'll have someone bring that right to you. Have a seat anywhere."
Darian watched him scurry off and then scanned the area. It was a large room, but the way it was decorated and how the chairs were placed in small groups made it seem cozy and relaxing. He found a table where he could have his back to the wall so he could see the whole room.
Larkin's roommates had told him they would all be working, so he expected to see her right away.
"Hello, Mr. Marsh."
Darian looked up at the woman standing beside his table. "Hello, Monica. Where's Larkin?"
She looked around. "She's here. Do you want me to find her and have her come over?"
Darian shook his head. "No, I'd just like to observe first."
"Okay. Have you ordered?"
"Yes. Thank you."
"Yell if you need anything."
Darian received his drink from another waitress and relaxed back in his chair. His posture changed when Larkin came from another room with a tray stacked with glasses. She was wearing trim black pants and a white long-sleeved shirt like the other waitresses. Her long hair was up in a twist and pinned to the back of her head.
Although the clothes fit snuggly, he was just glad she was covered.
He watched her go to one of the bigger tables and start serving the men.
His grip on the glass tightened when a few of the men tried to reach for her, but Larkin would step out of the way, so none of them got a hand on her. He could tell she'd done it many
times before, and it infuriated him.
For the next hour, he watched her work, rushing from one table to the next. Darian caught Monica's attention with his hand raised.