Chapter 28

She hastily released Tarquin’s arm with a sheepish grin, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Thanks,” she muttered, digging into her pocket to shove a wad of bills into his hand before bolting away.

The click–clack of her high heels echoed, fading into the distance until swallowed by the pulsing beats of the bar’s jukebox.

Tarquin watched her disappear, his brow furrowed in confusion and a hint of something else. It had been six years since he’d been this close to a woman.

The rush of familiar warmth came flooding back, unbidden, reminding him of that night so long ago. Her lips had been just as soft…

That was why he hadn’t pushed her away immediately.

Noticing Tarquin’s distress, Gage broke free from Lowell’s grip and circled back.

“Tarquin, that was… You know her?” he inquired, a note of surprise in his voice.

Tarquin glanced down at the cash in his hand–two crisp hundred–dollar bills and a fifty–and scowled.

Without a word, he shoved the money at Lowell and stalked off to the private booth, ignoring Gage’s query.

Lowell examined the $250 in his hands. Was this Elysia’s way of sealing his boss‘ lips? Or was it for the kiss she planted on his boss?

A kiss and silence for $250–wasn’t that too cheap for Tarquin’s worth?

Seeing Tarquin’s foul mood, Gage didn’t dare follow. Instead, he grabbed Lowell’s arm and asked, “Tarquin knows that bartender?”

With a police nod, Lowell pocketed the cash. “Met her a couple of times.”

“What’s their deal? How could she dare to kiss Tarquin? And how could he let her? Tarquin’s supposed to be Nola’s man!”

Lowell, not one to gossip about Tarquin and Elysia’s business but unable to help himself with Nola’s, retorted, “Gage, you should know the real score between Tarquin and Ms. Slater. Some things are better left unsaid. Wouldn’t want to upset Tarquin. Bad for you, Ms. Slater, and the whole Slater family.”

With a cordial tip of his hat, Lowell excused himself from Gage’s grasp and strode off.

Gage’s face darkened. Ignoring his own discomfort, he whipped out his phone and dialed Nola.

“Nola, we’ve got a situation! A big one! Tarquin kissed another woman!”

ber 28 In the VIP lounge, the atmosphere buzzed with chatter and laughter.

As Tarquin entered, the crowd rose to greet him. “Hey, Tarquin!”

He nodded, signaling them to carry on. He made a beeline for the central seat, sat down, crossed his legs, and lit a cigarette.

Keaton Huber, noticing his friend’s grim expression, asked, “What’s got you down? You finally decide to come out and you’re still sulking?”

Tarquin’s mind was elsewhere, troubled by the memory of Elysia’s kiss. He dodged the question, instead asking, “How’s Corbin doing?”

Corbin, Keaton’s nephew, was still in the hospital.

Keaton replied, “He was asleep when I visited this afternoon. My sister said he had an episode today and ran into traffic in a fit. Lucky for us, a knowledgeable young lady was there. Otherwise… Well, how’s Elijah been?”

Tarquin flicked ash from his cigarette. “Same old.”

“Don’t beat yourself up,” Keaton advised. “Benjamin says miracles happen, especially with psychological issues. They’re young. Who knows? They might outgrow it.”

But Tarquin knew better. Corbin’s trauma was from a kidnapping, while Elijah… his was a deep yearning for his mother.

Healing the mind required the right medicine, and if Corbin could face his fears, he might well recover.

Elijah, however, was a different story. Without finding his birth mother, his condition would likely only worsen.

Keaton !ined in, whispering teasingly, “You smell like a woman’s perfume. Got a lady friend?”

Keaton’s reputation as a ladies‘ man made him particularly attuned to such details.

Tarquin snapped back to the present and frowned. “No.”

“So why do you smell like perfume? It’s a pleasant, fruity scent. High–end ladies‘ perfume, very unique, like a limited edition… Whoever wears it is no ordinary woman. Spill it–who’s the heiress? After all these years, no one’s managed to get close, and now someone’s succeeded? What makes her different?”