They entered a room, hands clasped together as a server wearing the skimpiest scraps of lace which defied gravity approached with a tray in her hand.
“Sir, welcome back. Can I get you and your guest a drink?”
“Bring my usual, just the one glass. We’ll be sharing.” He didn’t even spare her a glance as he met Keary’s confused expression.
Keary looked to Essence and then back to Vadim and Vadim fought the s**t-eating grin he wanted to sport. Keary was wearing nothing but leather pants. No shirt, no shoes didn’t mean no service in this establishment, and he was coiling a thick rope around his arm.
“Keary, I don’t believe you were properly introduced to Essence the other night.”
“Essie,” she corrected again. “Only Vadim and my grandfather call me Essence or my mother when she’s annoyed.”
