Strike (Gentry Generations #1) Page 7

  Parking was all valet and I felt slightly reluctant about handing over the keys to my beat up Toyota in the midst of Jaguars and BMWs but it couldn’t be helped. A few curious looks came our way from a departing party that was all sharp suits and designer dresses. A long canopy held up with stone pillars stretched from the entrance and once I was underneath it I thought immediately of the tunnel at Sea World. Two men walking in ahead of us were arguing as they reached the door. One of them barked a few words I couldn’t quite hear to the hostess and they were ushered inside.

  Guarding the door was a man who looked like he’d been carved from a slab of granite. His black blazer, neat haircut and grim, clean-shaven face didn’t match the bouncer stereotype but I had little doubt he was posted at the entrance to keep order. I’d heard about the exclusive members only nature of the place but seeing Granite Face’s grim expression made me wonder what kind of trouble they might be expecting. Beside him the movie star gorgeous hostess beamed at guests with an impeccable smile that had probably cost some money to acquire.

  “Welcome to Aqua Room,” she greeted us in a throaty voice that sounded well rehearsed. Her eyes flickered over our department store dresses and a smirk briefly twisted her mouth while I bristled.

  “This is a members only club,” she informed us with artificial sweetness.

  I pointed to the tablet she was cradling in her arms. “Do you have a guest list you can reference?”

  She looked down at the tablet and then back at me. “Do you have a reason to think you’d be on it?”

  I stared her down and crossed my arms. “What is your name?”

  “Annabella,” she answered with an obnoxious emphasis on the ‘bell’ syllable.

  “Hello, Annabella. My name is Camille Gentry. My sister and I are guests of Dalton Tremaine. Mr. Tremaine advised that he ought to contacted immediately if we ran into any problems at the door.”

  Cassie snickered at my side as the hostess pursed her full-lipped mouth and shot a look at Granite Face, who was stonily staring off into the distance in search of some unseen threat. I wondered if he’d flinch if I stepped on his foot. I decided not to chance it.

  “What did you say your name was?” the hostess asked with a sigh as she tapped the screen of her tablet.

  “Camille Gentry. Or you may see it down there as Cami.”

  “Cami Gentry,” she muttered with a nod. She tucked the tablet under her arm and tried for a friendlier smile. “Enjoy your evening at Aqua Room.”

  That must have been the signal Granite Face needed to open the door.

  “Think he’s mechanical?” Cassie whispered in my ear as we stepped over the threshold.

  “The idea occurred to me,” I answered and then we both paused for a moment to gaze around in awe.

  As clubs went, Aqua Room would be ranked as a fifteen on a scale of one to ten if the scale were measured in tasteful opulence. Tones of black and gold were the primary colors with hints of dark red and vintage lighting fixtures that seemed plucked straight from an art deco ad. My eyes drank in every gilded detail from the brass ceiling treatments that crisscrossed above us to the intricate metal wall panels. As we headed for the bar I half expected to bump into a cocktail-carrying F. Scott Fitzgerald.

  Most of the candlelit tables were quietly occupied and I was a little startled to glimpse a familiar face at one of them as piano music played in the background. Congressman Anders was bobbing his head in response to whatever was being said by a fat bearded man in a neighboring chair. I didn’t want to stare so I sat on a plush barstool beside my sister.

  A beautiful dark-haired woman in a retro red dress was leaning against the bar and staring at the table where the congressman sat. She had a rather troubled expression on her face and she glanced at us for a split second when we sat down before she looked away.

  “You see him yet?” Cassie asked.

  “Not yet.”

  “Good evening, ladies,” greeted the bartender. “What can I get for you?”

  Cassie looked at me and suddenly I felt uncertain. On the rare occasions when I drank I was used to just ordering a beer but I didn’t want to sound like an idiot for taking the cheap option at such a high class place. At the same time, I didn’t have a big wad of cash to blow on fancy alcohol.

  “Give them two Tom Collins on the house, Ryan,” said a voice at my back and I turned to find Dalton Tremaine standing right behind me. He winked.

  “Well, we made it after all,” I said and then silently congratulated myself on uttering the most absurdly obvious statement of the year.

  “I see that,” said Dalton with a grin that probably had the power to electrify hearts from a mile away.

  I tried to stop myself from staring but it was tough. Since I’d seen Dalton sweating on the baseball field five hours ago he’d shaved and changed to a crisply ironed white shirt beneath a dark blue blazer that barely contained his strong shoulders. If I had my sister Cadence’s artistic talent and I was asked to draw the most perfect looking man I could imagine then I’d draw Dalton Tremaine in this light, in that outfit. He was fucking gorgeous.

  And, let’s face it, way out of my league.

  “You must be Cassie,” he said and smoothly extended a hand to my sister.

  “And you must be Dalton,” she answered, shaking his hand and then giving me a nudge in the small of my back that unfortunately startled me into slipping right off the barstool. Thanks to Dalton’s quick reflexes I didn’t slide very far. He grabbed my arm firmly enough to steady me. Even though he was just making a polite gesture the feel of his hand on my skin was enough to get my heart pounding.

  “Let’s go grab a table,” he suggested, looking amused. “It’ll be safer.”

  Cassie linked her arm through mine and we followed Dalton to a recently vacated table in the corner. He gallantly held our chairs out and before I sat down I craned my neck around for another glimpse of Anders but he was no longer in the same place.

  Cassie took the seat beside me and I noticed that she was biting her lip in the way she did when she was nervous. After she was cruelly bullied right out of high school at the start of our senior year she never really did regain her old vibrant self confidence. She’d finished the year online and only attended the graduation ceremony for our parents’ sakes. Cassie didn’t like to talk about that piece of the past so I didn’t bring it up. My sister had such a dreamy, gentle nature. That was the reason I worried for her.

  “You don’t look like twins,” Dalton remarked.

  I rolled my eyes. “Never heard that one before.”

  “We hatched from separate eggs,” Cassie giggled.

  Dalton looked confused.

  “Fraternal twins,” I explained. “I ended up looking like my mother while Cassie inherited the blondeness of the Gentry folk. Cass, did I mention that Dalton knows Uncle Chase?”

  “No,” Cassie said. “How do you know our uncle?”

  “He was my teacher in high school. Now I coach his son.”

  “Thomas,” I said.

  “That’s right. Thomas.” Dalton was staring at me and I fought the urge to squirm in my chair.

  I cleared my throat. “So Dalton, you never mentioned whether you had any siblings.”

  “I do. One older brother.”

  “Are you close?”

  “No. Not by my choice, but no. We talk when we can.”

  The brief look of sadness that crossed his face made me sorry I’d asked. Cassie has delicately suggested in the past that I needed to quit putting everyone I meet through the Inquisition. Perhaps it was time to take that advice to heart.

  Dalton might have been reading my thoughts because he nodded in my sister’s direction. “Does she ever stop asking questions?”

  “Not in the twenty one years I’ve known her,” Cassie said brightly. She took a sip of her drink and then set it down, wrinkling her nose. Cassie wasn’t a frequent drinker either. She swiveled her head around. “I smell cigar smoke.”

 
“That’s not smoke, sweetheart, that’s the scent of money,” said a voice. A man who looked like he could give Dalton a run for his money in the alpha male department pulled out a chair next to Dalton and sat down. I recognized him from my internet research.

  “I’m Griffin Sullivan,” he said with the air of someone who expected his name to be recognized and respected.

  “Griffin owns the Wild Spring Resort,” I explained to Cassie.

  “It’s a family property,” he acknowledged with a shrug. “I do my best to make sure it doesn’t burn down.” His eyes were blue. Not the same shade of sky blue that ran so thickly through my family tree, but more of a icy color. But as those pale eyes first surveyed me and then my sister I didn’t get the impression that there was anything more than curiosity going on behind them.

  Griffin finished his silent appraisal and gave me a friendly smile. “Dalton and I used to play ball together. Did he tell you?”

  “He didn’t, but I heard someone else say that you’d been friends for a long time.”

  “And now he’s my lord and master,” Dalton joked.

  “He’s being humble,” Griffin said. “This guy did me a huge favor accepting the job managing Aqua Room. My father always said great success only comes from having reliable people nearby to prop you up.”

  I took a pointed look around the crowded room. “In that case it seems like he’s propping you up quite admirably.”

  Griffin nodded. “I agree.”

  “Word on the street says getting into Aqua Room is like finding a golden ticket,” I said.

  Griffin flashed a smile. “Flattery. I like it. So what brings you beautiful ladies out tonight?”

  “I invited them,” Dalton said quietly.

  “Is that so? And here I assumed I was your only friend, Dalton.”

  “I would have mentioned it but you were preoccupied with your associates.”

  Griffin waved a hand. “Oh, them. I think I’ve plied them with enough quality vodka to keep them out of my hair for a few minutes.” He looked across the room where a trio of balding men in dark suits were having drinks with two beautiful young women.

  Griffin turned his head in my direction and prodded Dalton. “Are you going to introduce me or do I have to beg?”

  I noticed Dalton didn’t look altogether pleased when he said, “This is Camille Gentry and her sister, Cassie.”

  “Actually, we’ve spoken before,” I said when I accepted Griffin’s handshake.

  He held onto my palm longer than necessary. “That can’t be. I’m bad with names but I’d definitely remember your face, Camille.”

  “It wasn’t in person. I answered the phone at the spa when you called the other day.”

  “That’s right. If memory serves, you just started work this week, right?”

  “Your memory serves you well,” I responded wryly, choosing not to add the observation that he’d become overly flirtatious at the end of the conversation.

  Griffin nodded in my sister’s direction. “And what do you do, Cassie?”

  Cassie had been quietly biting her lip again but she answered Griffin in a pleasant voice. “At the moment I’m squeezing in a few summer classes while working at a bookstore.”

  “Well, if you’re ever in search of different work, give me a call and I’ll see what’s available here.”

  Griffin’s offer sounded friendly enough but I saw Dalton’s sharp glare in his friend’s direction. Maybe he disapproved of Griffin’s free and easy approach to hiring employees without regard to experience. In that case I was glad I hadn’t mentioned that I’d only landed a cushy summer job at the spa because my Uncle Deck knew the Human Resource Director’s husband.

  Cassie stood abruptly. “Which way is the ladies’ room?”

  “Take a left past the bar and you can’t miss it,” Dalton said.

  “Thank you,” Cassie said and immediately headed in that direction. I tried to see her face but a curtain of hair hid her expression. My innate twin instinct told me that something had suddenly troubled her. I just didn’t know what it was.

  “If you’ll excuse me I think I’ll take the same opportunity myself,” I told the men as I rose from the chair.

  Griffin was busy beckoning to a cocktail waitress but Dalton nodded.

  I found Cassie standing over one of the black marble sinks in the bathroom and staring at her reflection in the wide vanity mirror.

  “What’s wrong?” I asked her.

  She turned on the faucet and pumped some soap into her palm. “Nothing. I’m fine. For a second I just started to feel claustrophobic. Dalton seems cool. You should get back. I’ll be out in a moment.”

  “Cass.”

  “What?”

  I crossed my arms and leaned against the nearest wall to suggest I wouldn’t move without her. She turned the faucet off and accepted the paper towel I handed her.

  “I was just startled to see her, that’s all.”

  “Who?”

  “Debra Martinez.”

  “Oh, I mentioned that I’d run into her, right? She’s in the club tonight? I didn’t notice.”

  Cassie frowned. “She’s here. She just appeared and climbed into the lap of some older guy.”

  “What guy?”

  “I don’t know. Fortyish. Wearing a suit. The two of them disappeared into the back and then he returned alone.”

  I let out a low whistle, wondering if the man in question was Anders. “This whole place is starting to sound like the setting of a crime thriller.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “We have a suspected call girl coupled with a possibly shady politician, enigmatic businessmen thrown into the mix and gorgeous former pro athletes running amok.”

  Cassie’s mouth dropped. “You’re saying Debra’s a, um…”

  “Just a rumor,” I said quickly, wishing I’d conducted a quick look around the bathroom to see if it was empty before shooting my mouth off. I breathed a sigh of relief when I didn’t notice any feet under the stalls. “Anyway, she changed her name and I told you she wasn’t too friendly when we were face to face. I get the feeling she didn’t appreciate bumping into a flesh and blood blast from the past.”

  “I know the feeling,” Cassie muttered and stared at her reflection.

  “Is that what’s wrong?” I asked gently. “Was Debra one of the people who-“

  “No.” She shook her head vehemently. “No, we were on the cheer squad together and we were friendly, even after everything started to blow up. We didn’t keep in touch after I left school but she was a nice girl. Maybe a little empty-headed but nice. It was weird though, Cams. I know she saw me but she looked right through me, like I wasn’t even there. Even across the room I could see there was nothing in her eyes. Just a vacancy. And then she disappeared with that man.”

  “See? The story really does sound like a crime thriller.”

  Cassie wrinkled her nose. “Maybe instead of being a reporter you should have decided to become a novelist like Mom.”

  “Maybe I’ll do both. You feel like going back out there now?”

  She grinned. “Ooh, someone’s eager to get back under Dalton Tremaine’s sexy spell. Not that I blame you. He looks mighty yummy.” She put a hand to her forehead and pretended to swoon against the sink.

  Heat rose to my cheeks. “Stop. I haven’t even been out with the guy yet. Did that Griffin character catch your eye at all?”

  She made a face and ran her finger along the marble sink. “He’d catch any girl’s eye. But he’s too flashy. I wouldn’t be able to keep up.”

  “Stop selling yourself short, Cassie.”

  Her eyes met mine in the mirror. “Stop worrying about me, Cami.”

  “Never. But I just realized I’ve got to pee. Wait for me?”

  She smiled. “Always.”

  By the time I emerged from the stall a group of laughing women had entered the restroom in a cloud of perfume. I recognized one as a well known pop star but the bathroom was
n’t really a great place for celebrity groveling so I just washed my hands off and rejoined Cassie.

  Once we’d returned to the hallway the piano music floated out from the main room but I noticed something I hadn’t seen a few minutes ago. The corridor extended further than I had thought, most likely leading to some areas that were used by the staff.

  “Where are you going?” Cassie asked.

  “Just taking a look around.”

  The hallway wasn’t a dead end after all but rather turned at a sharp ninety degree angle and continued. I paused at the sound of laughter that seemed to come from the walls. Suddenly a door opened to my left and I nearly tumbled into a large, sweaty man. His shirt was unbuttoned, revealing a sizeable gut that was barely contained by a cotton undershirt. His hooded eyes lit up at the sight of us and somewhere in my head an alarm bell rang.

  “Come in, beautiful ladies.” His foreign accent was thick, his voice gravelly. He was easily six foot two and I couldn’t guess what he weighed but I’d be willing to wager it was considerable. But what alarmed me was the way he looked at us, like we were two delightful treats that had been set on his plate and he couldn’t wait to begin devouring us.

  “You come in,” he said and impatiently beckoned as he held open the door to the room he’d emerged from. All of I could see of the inside was a black leather couch and a glass top table. I didn’t really want to get any closer.

  “No thanks,” I said, taking a step back. “We’re expected back at our table.”

  The man’s rubbery lips pursed into frown and the folds on his triple chin wrinkled. Still, even though he didn’t seem like the type of person you’d want to encounter in a dark hallway, we were inside the club and I didn’t think he’d try anything weird. He proved me wrong when he roughly grabbed my sister by the arm.

  “You come in,” he said gruffly and started dragging Cassie with him toward the open door.

  My sister’s frightened yelp sent me straight into beast mode and I savagely started karate chopping his fat arm. It was like hitting a tree stump.