His hair was an artful mess down to his widow’s peak; his tie was missing, and he hadn’t bothered to dress up in anything remotely related to the ’20s. Still he was a hit with the ladies. He wore a black leather jacket and a dress shirt a subtle shade lighter than his jacket tucked elegantly into black suit pants. He swaggered past a billiards table, ignoring the upturned female faces with the air of a man who could have any of them. His entrances were always memorable this way. No wonder the world misjudged him.
Janson rubbed a hand across the stubble of his jaw as he came up to Aaron. “I’m going to kill you for this.”
“Oh, you love it. This is for a good cause.”
“That’s the only reason I’m here,” Janson muttered in his very slight Brazilian accent. His mother was from there; his father was American. “I don’t doubt the papers will twist it as me virtue signaling.” Ah, virtue signaling—that was the slang used for someone who tried to show the world how good they were without truly being good. That would never be Janson’s problem. Sure, he was a good guy, but he was painted very differently. Janson’s arrogant manner didn’t help his cause either. He locked gazes with a woman across the way who could double as Cruella de Vil with a long cigarette holder. Her black hair was cut bluntly across her forehead, and it was hard to see her eyes with all that makeup. Her lipstick extended past her lips by a full inch. The woman had been battling with Veronica for Mikey, but she abruptly stopped her loud haggling as soon as she saw Janson. A grin curled over her thickened lips, and she blew a kiss his direction.
Janson’s eyes widened. “What have you gotten me into? Please say she doesn’t have a penny to her name.”
Aaron decided to put his friend out of his misery. “She was losing to Veronica for Mikey, if that tells you anything.”
“Did Mikey pay Veronica under the table to save him? I’ll pay her double.”
Mollie swung around like she was offended on the lady’s behalf. Janson gave her a hard look, a distinctive brow lifting over his hazel eyes, like he’d caught her rudely eavesdropping. “No drinks for me,” he told her. “Wait, no, I’ll take a bottled water.”
Mollie’s hands balled into fists against her hips. She wasn’t taking kindly to Janson mistaking her as the staff. “Excuse me?”
Inwardly, Aaron dropped his face into his hands. Outwardly, he pasted on a cheerful smile. “Janson, this is Mollie. Charlize’s good friend. And this is Charly.” Aaron took Charlize around the waist, deciding it had been too long since he had her in his arms.
Janson stepped back, not dignifying Mollie with an apology, though he seemed politely interested in Aaron’s girlfriend. “Charly? This can’t be the girl who caused such a storm on the internet last night? You look far less vicious than the major news outlets make you out to be.”
“Looks can be deceiving,” Charly answered.
“I hope so. You think you’ve got it in you to keep up with Aaron Mills?”
From the corner of his eye, Aaron watched Mollie’s lips twist, and he hoped she wasn’t one of those fiery redheads that made everyone think redheads had tempers. “I don’t think that’s any of your business,” Mollie quipped. Okay, so she is.
Both Aaron and Charly talked over each other to cool down their difficult friends. “I’m lucky to have Charlize,” Aaron said the same time he heard Charly say something similar to Mollie.
Janson’s attention riveted to Mollie, watching her like he’d just discovered an interesting bug on the sidewalk. He rarely smiled anyway, as if the world could not quite measure up to his expectations, probably why no one but Aaron defended him against baseless attacks. “What’s with wearing all black?” Janson asked Mollie unexpectedly.
She gave a mocking curtsy. “Funny thing. I could ask the same thing of you.”
He smiled this time, but it was scornful. “Some people know how to wear it, Red.”
“Okay!” Aaron held up his hands. “Mollie is very beautiful!” At Charly’s dropped jaw, Aaron desperately hoped that he wasn’t getting himself into trouble. This bickering couple had better not ruin his chances with Charly. “No matter what she chooses to wear.” That was another wrong thing to say. Charly bit her lip in that distressed way of hers.
Janson let out a disdainful sound, his eyes running over a fuming Mollie. “I didn’t