The Duplicate

Chapter Seventeen

Niles Verbeck.

Each pulse of blue light from the table illuminates his face, only briefly. He sits, arm slung over the back of the booth, the weight of his gut sagging over his belt. Standing beside him, a muscle-head of a bouncer gestures aimlessly, speaking to Verbeck.

I swallow.

The stems of the two cocktail glasses feel as though they may snap between my fingers any moment. I hold them in a death grip, approaching the rather vacant VIP area, and my heel has barely kissed the bottom stair for more than a second when—

"Hold it, Miss."

The muscle-head has seen me. He strides over, his eyebrows furrowing over a pair of dark sunglasses. He'd look ridiculous wearing sunglasses in here if it wasn't for his thick neck and rippled arms. I don't feel like laughing as he towers over me at the top of the stairs.

"Oh, I'm sorry." I plaster a smile on my face and take another step up the stairs. "I was just—"

"Did you hear what I just said?" He snaps his head to the side, and at this angle, his bald head glints in the club lights. "Take another step and I'll have you thrown out of here."

My smile drops. I freeze.

"What's going on, Riggs?" a voice calls from behind him, and though muscleman is blocking my view, I know who it is.

Riggs takes a step aside, allowing a full view of the upper floor.

My eyes set on Verbeck. He has barely moved. He's still slouched, arm propped up on the back of the booth. He is looking at me. "What do you want, sugar?"

It takes a moment to find my voice and remember my lie. "I was just... I saw you were alone, so I thought I'd get you a drink."

Verbeck and his bouncer exchange a look.

"Let her by, Riggs."

With a terse nod, muscleman motions me forward.

I ascend the stairs and make my way over to the pulsing table. Both sets of eyes follow me. My stomach churns.

"What have you got there?" Verbeck asks, gesturing at the drinks in my hands. But his eyes aren't on the drinks. Beady and unnerving, they wander over my legs as I walk.

I force a cheery smile. "Dirty martinis. I hope that's okay."

"It's been a while since I've had one of those. That's just fine."

I stop beside the table and offer him a glass.

This close, I can now see his face. His full, fish-like lips turn up into a grin as he takes the martini. "Please, have a seat."

"Thank you." I lower myself into the booth across from him. Involuntarily, I throw a glance across the club, across the shifting sea of people, towards the shadowed hallway.

I wonder if Trip is watching me. Why am I hoping he is?

"I was sort of lonely before you came along," Verbeck says. He hasn't lifted his gaze off me. "Where have you been all my life, lovely?"

A beat off, I let out a short laugh, cross my legs, and adjust the hem of my dress. "Well, I was lonesome too," I say, and as a afterthought, "I'd almost given up hope on finding someone interesting. Luckily, I saw you up here all by yourself."

Verbeck smiles, pleased. "I've sparked your interest?"

I make a show of flipping my hair over my shoulder and settling back into the booth. "Maybe."