Whispers & Whiskey

A hush fell over the grand hall as I descended the marble staircase, every eye tracking my slow, deliberate pace. The murmurs began almost immediately, a subtle shift in the air, a ripple of whispers that broke the suffocating silence. Even a mile away, my thoughts were still snagged on the golden-haired man at the bar when Desiree's firm squeeze on my arm yanked me back to the glittering present.

"What did Kade want?" she asked, leaning in close so her voice could cut through the thrumming music.

I frowned, genuinely bewildered. "Who?"

We reached the landing, and she pivoted to face me, her brows drawn down in that familiar "I'm losing my patience, and fast!" expression. "Now's not the time to play coy, Mona. The man you were talking to earlier. What did he want?"

"Ohhh!" So Jerkface had a name! I scanned the room, hoping to catch a glimpse of that tell-tale blonde hair, but he seemed to have vanished. Turning back to Desiree, I shrugged. "He didn't want anything; he just made some stupid comment about my drink of choice."

Her eyebrows shot up, a clear sign she knew me well enough to anticipate my scandalous order. "Tell me you didn't ask for a bottle of whiskey... again!"

I grinned, a small, knowing smirk. "Okay, I won't tell you."

"Mona!"

"What! I needed it to lure some unsuspecting fool, it's not like I'm doing it for fun!" I was absolutely doing it for fun, but she didn't need to know that. Most of the businessmen I work with ( blackmail) never dared approach me unless absolutely necessary. And if they had to, it was always through Desiree. So, ordering a bottle of whiskey in a room brimming with cocky, unsuspecting men was a surefire way to draw them in. There was nothing men loved more than a woman who acted like she could spit fire. Too bad for them, I actually did spit fire.

"Fine, but I think you should scrap Everhart from your mind. Find another target." Desiree's voice cut through my musings, jarring me back to the opulent ballroom.

"What! I can't do that!"

She stared at me, mouth agape, eyes wide. The look, strangely enough, reminded me of the hamster my father accidentally squeezed to death. And I use the term accidentally loosely. I jolted, shaking my head to dispel the unwelcome memory. I sighed, meeting Desiree's dramatic gaze. She always had a flair for the theatrical, but she wouldn't say no unless it was a genuinely bad idea. "Why? Give me one good reason, and I won't contact him."

She raked a hand through her vibrant red hair, a shade I’d always envied. She opened her mouth to speak, but a hand on her shoulder stopped her. Senator Nicola stood beside her, his gaze sweeping past me as if I were invisible. He turned his body completely to Desiree. "We need to speak..." He paused, finally casting a dismissive glance in my direction. "...Privately."

"Of course." Desiree nodded, clapped me on the shoulder, and leaned in to whisper, "Mona, I mean it! Leave him alone." Then, she turned and walked off with Nicola, already deep in conversation.

I cocked my head, watching them move further into the crowd. Since when did Desiree think she could tell me what to do? "Leave him alone"? Did she honestly expect me to comply? I watched her, noting the way she interacted with the senator. He was laughing at something she said, which was incredibly odd. Nicola never laughed. Not at my jokes, (even if they were aimed at him) but why would a man who loved power so much laugh with a woman who had supposedly lost it?

Hmm. A thought flickered through my mind, but it vanished before I could quite grasp it. I turned away, momentarily forgetting about my best friend and the senator. My gaze swept the hall, searching for a flash of blonde. Nothing. Huh. Guess it was time to go hunting again.

Desiree only mentioned "him," didn't she? And "him" was rather vague, wasn't it? Which means... she never specified who she didn't want me going after.

Kade

"Is there a reason you're not listening to me?" Jordan's voice, my best friend's voice, jolted me out of my thoughts. He'd been rambling about some girl for the past few minutes, ever since he barged into my office and demanded I ditch my meetings. I hadn't, but he wouldn't leave until I’d heard at least a fraction of his story. So, for now, I was stuck. He was like the wife I never wanted.

I glanced up at him. "Sorry, what were you saying?" He didn't reply, just stared at me with narrowed, suspicious eyes. He looked ridiculous squinting like that, but I knew him; he was doing it on purpose, trying to make me squirm. I tried not to move, not to twitch a finger, to avoid alerting him that something was bothering me. But then he smirked. Shit! I'd given it away!

"Who's the woman?"

I glared at him, partly wondering how he knew it was a woman and partly annoyed that he could never mind his own business. "There's no woman," I responded, shuffling the documents on my desk to avoid eye contact. I had a hard time lying to my friends, sue me!

He snorted. "Right, and I'm Lady Gaga."

I sighed, exasperated. "Is there a reason you're here? In my office? At this time of day?"

"Wow, man! I'm really feeling the love. I came all the way from Europe to check up on you, and this is what I get?"

I blew out a breath, already tired of his antics. "You didn't really come from Europe, but sorry," I conceded. He didn't respond, just stared at me eagerly.

I pouted slightly, looking off to the side, thoroughly annoyed. Gosh! He knew how to force my hand. "I met her at the business gala I attended last week."

He laughed. "Shit, dude! And you're still thinking about her? She must be special then."

I thought back to the gala, to the woman who towered over almost everyone. She looked like she'd step on you and then expect you to thank her for it. To be honest, I probably would. But I couldn't tell Jordan that; he'd look at me like I was crazy.

She reminded me of those supermodels who appeared nice but usually turned out to be mean: tall, skinny, and so beautiful it almost hurt to look at her. And it didn't help that I was intensely attracted to her, which was crazy because I usually preferred women with curves and big tits.

Based on the way people had rushed to move out of her way when she headed toward the bar, she was definitely not someone to be trifled with. But I couldn't help it; I was intrigued by those dark eyes of hers that invited you in, eyes that seemed like they could suck your soul right out of you. I wanted to see her again. How would it feel to put my soul and heart in her hands? Would she crush it? Take care of it? I so badly wanted to find out.

I stared up at Jordan, my mind half a mile away. "Yeah, she was special alright."

Just not the way you'd be expecting.