Raine (Gods of the Fifth Floor #2) - M.V. Ellis Page 0,62
him is rotten to the core. But the other five percent, that you’ll get to see if you’re lucky—and as special as I think you are, I think you will—that five percent is worth its weight in gold. Trust me. It makes all that other shit worth it.”
“Get the fuck out of here you smooth asshole, and stop filling her head with crap. Everyone knows I’m bad to the bone.” Raine stood up, ready to leave.
“You’re telling me to get the fuck out? You realize this is my place, right?”
“Oh, I know. And before you show me the door, I’m going.” He beamed widely at Tom. “I’ll show myself out. Brother.” Out on the street, Raine turned to me. “It’s early. I don’t know about you, but I’m not ready to draw a line under the night yet. What do you say we carry on the party?”
“What do you have in mind?”
“How about a few drinks? I know a place close to here.”
“Okay. I’m down for that.”
“Good. We’re here.”
“What?”
“The place I know. It’s here.” He motioned to the automatic door to our left. We’d come out of the restaurant and taken a few steps. I hadn’t even noticed we’d been standing in front of a hotel.
“Oh. How convenient. Some would say you planned it this way.”
“I don’t know who ‘some’ is, but they’d be one hundred percent right. Come on, let’s go inside. This place has a roof terrace with exceptional views, and their cocktails are something else.”
“Well, how can I possibly say no?”
“You can’t.” He offered me the crook of his arm, which I took, and as we started walking across the lobby toward the bank of elevators, I was struck by how intimate a gesture that simple could seem, even after screwing someone multiple times in their office.
When the elevator opened at the top floor, I let out an audible gasp. It was breathtakingly stunning.
“Gorgeous right?”
“That doesn’t even begin to cover it. It’s... everything.”
“Wait until you taste the cocktails. They are just as special as the surroundings.”
“You had me at special. What is this place?”
“The Omega Hotel. Specifically, the Alpha Bar.” The name couldn’t have been more fitting if they’d dedicated it to Raine.
“Oh. Why haven’t I heard of it before?”
“They do try to keep it pretty exclusive. It’s actually a members’ hotel and bar, so not open to the public as such.”
“They want to keep the clientele exclusive, yet they let you in. Interesting.” I couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across my face.
“Funny. I think you need a drink to put in that hot little mouth of yours before you say something you might regret.”
“The truth will out, Mr. Davies. But, sure, a drink would be nice, unless you have a better offer.” I quirked an eyebrow playfully.
“To put in your mouth?”
“Yep.” I popped the p for emphasis. Jesus. I needed to slow my roll. I’d had a little wine with dinner, but I wasn’t anywhere near drunk. If I was this forward before the cocktails, I dreaded to imagine what I would be like afterward.
“Ms. Hale.” Oh, he even knew my last name. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, because I’m going to take you up on that offer in the not-too-distant future.”
“Don’t worry, my word is bond, and I’m banking on it.”
We’d been walking as we talked, as Raine led me across the roof terrace to a secluded corner. It was dominated by an oversized leather couch, and seemed to offer the best view out across the city of any spot in the entire room. Not that I was surprised. Nor was I surprised when the waiter approached and addressed him by name. Or when he knew the cocktail list well enough to order without consulting the menu.
“Trust me?” he asked.
“We’ve been through this, already haven’t we?” I reminded him
“Okay, I’ll bite. Do you trust me enough to let me order a drink on your behalf?” I grimaced. Raine raised his hands in surrender. “No pressure. Never let it be said that I forced you to do something you didn’t want to.”
“Spoken by the guy who went behind my back and submitted an employment contract on my behalf without my permission. Why do I somehow have trouble believing that?”
“Touché. That’s a fair point, but this is nothing like that situation. Do you want the drink or not?”
“I’m probably going to regret this, but... okay.”
He made the order, then, when the waiter was out of earshot, turned to me again.