REDEMPTION | MAFIA ROMANCE | SMUT

CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

Alexa

I convinced Chloe to join me on a work's night out, which was untroublesome because the second I mentioned handsome men and killer cocktails, the woman disrobed Bruce Almighty style and then glamorised her once tired appearance into vibrant becomingness.

Tempestuous wind and cool drizzles greeted me as I clambered from the taxi. I handed the driver a generous tip, squealing behind Chloe when the heavens complained and clangorous thunderclaps and torrential downpour lashed against the streets of London.

My wet hair dripped down my back. Perhaps the short red dress was presumptuously daring in this depressing weather.

I opened the rustic door and stepped into the shack-style restaurant. Mouth-watering aromas permeated the air. Powder white sand dusted the hardwood floor, and colourful chalkboards adorned the oak-panelled walls. Red, yellow, green and black mismatched tables and wooden chairs besprinkled the layout. A graffitied portrait of Bob Marley dominated the back wall. Low-hanging dim light fixtures, friendly waiters and reggae music. "You Want Me" by Vybz Kartel sounded from the rear stage where partygoers occupied the matted dance floor.

"Ladies." The casually dressed waiter collected two menus from the wooden front desk. "Table for two?"

"Reservation." I spot Jace and Grayson seated at the corner in a private booth. "We're with them."

The waiter led us to their table.

"Hey, guys." I slipped onto the leather bench opposite the men. "I hope you didn't start without us."

"Well, it's about time." Grayson tousled his platinum blond hair. "I am wasting away."

I glimpsed at my wristwatch. "I am fifteen minutes early."

"You are fifteen minutes late." He was already frolicsome. "I should be drunk."

The impossible sod. He is three sheets to the wind.

Chloe shuffled next to me on the leather bench, stuffing her clutch purse between our almost touching thighs.

"Bring two more of these over." He elevated the giant fishbowl above his head. "No need to go easy on the rum. I plan to get unbridled and insatiably sloshed."

The friendly waiter gave him a thumbs up.

Scanning the price list, I mumbled, "Nothing new, then."

Honestly, Grayson is hungover six out of seven days a week. I commend his late-night gregariousness and irrepressible partying. Hell, I wish I had his energised stamina.

"What is your secret?" Jace asked him. "I am on my arse for days if I mix too much alcohol."

Grayson smiled proudly. "I am amazing."

"Right..." Jace's brows furrowed slightly. "But what's the secret to hangover-free success?"

My manager's smile widened. "I am amazing."

I laughed airily.

Even though I never peered up from the menu, I caught Jace's head tilt in my direction. He looked handsome in his tight black T-shirt and worn leather jacket. He'd slicked back his brown hair, which boasted intricate back-and-side tattoos on his head. When I regarded him fully, he smirked at me with raillery. "Are you okay over there, Alexa?"

I was slightly ruffled by him, which I found most unfathomable. "Yes, I am figuring out what to eat."

"Oh, I might be able to help with that." Grayson winked lasciviously. "I hope you like juicy meat."