Mikala's Passion (Pulse Series Book 2) (24 page)

BOOK: Mikala's Passion (Pulse Series Book 2)
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Mikala was doing the math as she gazed over the place settings and seating arrangement. It all added up to Eden playing matchmaker again. She was cute in her quest to turn the entire world into one giant happily-ever-after-fairytale-ending. The only problem Mikala could think of was if Eden’s self-proclaimed gay-dar was off the map and neither Carl nor Landon was gay. Worse still, one was and one was not. Talk about awkward moments. If anything, the evening was going to be an entertaining one.

Mason came into the room from the kitchen surprising Mikala with a kiss on the cheek as he placed a platter of neatly sliced beef on the table. “Hi sugar, Landon. I was starting to wonder where you two got to.”

The words were barely out of his mouth when Carl walked into the room with two more dishes and his eyes narrowed into a frown when he saw everyone seated at the table.

“Hello.”

“You know everyone, you met Landon earlier today at the club,” Eden said, setting down a dish each of scalloped potatoes and mixed vegetables. “I wasn’t sure what you boys liked so I made roast beef, fried chicken and baked tilapia. I hope you like scalloped potatoes.”

“Quit fussing, they’re men, they will eat anything set in front of them,” Mikala said, as Chase walked around the table filling glasses with wine.

Landon placed his hand over his glass as Chase was about to fill it. “None for me thanks.” Eden swooped in with a can of soda and a glass of ice.

Mikala sat quietly observing the table guests as they consumed nearly every morsel of food and a few bottles of wine. While Mason, Chase and Carl discussed the clubs reopening, Landon and Eden seemed to be enjoying an intense conversation.  Mikala couldn’t make out the details over the sundry of voices, but she did notice the amount of attention Landon was paying Carl. There was indeed a strong interest on Landon’s part and Eden seemed to be egging it on. From time to time Carl’s head would turn from his conversation long enough to catch Landon’s stare. It was intriguing the way Landon didn’t bother to hide his attraction, while Carl acted all casual, as if he wasn’t being eaten alive by the big sexy man beside him.

Mikala found herself enjoying the circus around her, even if she was practically being ignored. Entertainment came in many different forms and for Mikala; observation could be the best entertainment of all. She often found herself standing behind the bar at the club watching how people approached each other and the reaction from those being hunted down. The expressions on faces and body language told stories that could never be hidden. Mikala had always had a way of reading people, most people anyway. An aura as she called it surrounded the soul, she could feel the good or the bad with just a touch of her hand or a caress of her fingertips across warm skin.

Reaching forward as she stood, Mikala touched her fingertips to Landon’s knuckles and whispered, “I’ll be right back,” as an excuse to test who he was and beamed as she left the room.

His was a good soul, strong and protective. Carl couldn’t do much better than Landon. Carl had a good soul to match, a generous, caregiving, providing soul. Mikala crossed her fingers and prayed that Eden’s magic would work in bringing these two together.

 

***

 

Nearing two in the morning, Mikala carefully slipped out of bed so as not to disturb Mason. She quietly went to the kitchen and poured herself a glass of water and sat at one of the stools at the island. Her mind was a mess with figures and thoughts of deadlines, and a stalker that was haunting her sleep. She worried her bottom lip as she allowed her head to think of a disastrous reopening night and the vision of flames as they roared all around her.

A throat clearing in the silence startled her. The glass she was holding slipped from her grasp, causing water to pour across the counter.

“Shit, you scared me,” Mikala said, watching as Landon peeled several sheets of paper towel from a roll and sopped up the mess.

“Sorry about that, Miss Santino,” he apologized, with an award winning smile.

“For a big guy, you sure do move around quietly.”

“All in the training, let me refill your glass,” he offered, taking her glass and filling it before her mouth opened. “Are you okay, Miss Santino, you need anything?”

“Call me Mik and no thanks, I don’t need anything.” Her eyes met his as he stood there watching her. “You couldn’t sleep either?” she asked, patting the seat beside her, he shook his head and remained glued to the spot.

“I sleep fine,” he said.

“Why are you awake then?”

“Because you are,” he said matter of fact, and Mikala laughed.

“This twenty four seven thing doesn’t mean you can’t sleep,” she said.

“Miss Santino, I have strict orders, twenty four seven means exactly that, twenty four seven.”

Her joke regarding Landon sharing her bed came to mind and she rolled her eyes picturing Landon wedged between her and Mason. The three of them in the queen size bed as she and Mason teetered on either edge.

Mikala shook her head letting out a quiet sigh. “Sorry, I should go back to bed then and let you get some sleep.”

“Something on your mind? I listen very well, you can consider me a confidant,” he whispered, and she smiled as his tough guy exterior seemed to melt away as he sat down beside her.

She shrugged her shoulders. “There are bills to pay and shit like that, everyday worries seem to be adding up. When its dark my mind races, don’t you hate the dark?” she rubbed her hands over her face.

“Afraid of the dark?” he asked, leaning on his elbows.

Mikala liked the way Landon was easing into an instant friendship with her. He was easy to talk to and that voice of his, especially when he was whispering, was wonderfully soothing.

“No, I’m not scared of the dark, but I don’t like to be alone in it. It’s the not knowing what’s there that scares me.”

“I’m not a fan of the dark either,” he confessed, causing her to spin in her seat to face him.

“You can’t possibly be afraid of the dark…you don’t like to be alone?”

He gave a shit-eating grin. “No one likes to be alone, do they?” he asked, he was the answer a question with a question type, this could prove annoying.

She stifled a yawn with her hand. “Get us a real drink from cupboard over the stove.” She instructed watching as Landon held up a bottle and she nodded her agreement. He poured her a glass, and then searched the fridge until he located a can of soda and sat back down.

“What did Mason tell you about me? What do you know?” she probed.

“Everything I need to and nothing more,” he replied. Landon suddenly seemed like an open book with chapters missing, eager to be questioned, yet questions seemed to draw vague answers.

“Can I be nosy?” she narrowed her eyes, tilting her head.

“You can.”

“Are you married?”

“No,” he answered, without a change in expression.

“Do you have a Girlfriend?”

“No.” His expression still unchanged.

“Boyfriend?” she snuck in, expecting something to change in his face or his eyes.

“No.” He didn’t so much as blink, he was an intentional mystery.

The confidant thing he offered, was clearly one sided. The books pages seemed suddenly blank. It frustrated her not being able to read between the slightly blurred lines. It would take a direct approach with Landon, pussy footing around obviously wasn’t his style.

“Are you gay?”

“Yes,” he unashamedly admitted, staring into her eyes, perhaps waiting for her to falter, waiting for her to gasp dramatically and hold her hand to her chest in shock.

It wasn’t going to happen.

“Does Mason know?”

“Of course he does,” Landon said, taking a sip from his can.

His expression remained calm, cool and collected. He was surviving unscathed as she pried deeper and he willingly let her in.

“Do you like, Carl?”

“I do.” He smiled for the first time since her interrogation started.

“Is he gay?”

“You don’t know?” He raised a brow with a grin.

“No,” she said, shaking her head as the word came out.

“I believe he is.”

“Seriously, I never imagined.”

“Unfortunately I don’t think he’s willing to lay it on the line. He’s confused, I can understand that, but he’s not being honest with
himself
.”

Mikala sipped from her glass and set her elbow on the counter with her head on her hand and smirked. “Are you going to ask him out?”

“I may in time,” he said, draining his can of soda and crushing it like it was a paper cup. “But duty calls, I have a job to do first.”

“Don’t let me stand in your way, go for it.” Mikala encouraged.

Landon placed his hand on her forearm. “I don’t allow
anything
to stand in the way of what I want. But pushing Carl into something he’s not ready for wouldn’t work. It wouldn’t be fair to either of us.” He stood. “Time to go back to bed, Mikala,”

“Okay,” Mikala agreed, surprising herself when she moved in and gave him a hug. “Well, good luck in your pursuit, whenever you decide to make a move that is.”

“Do me a favor though,” she asked, without waiting for an answer, “Carl’s a good guy, don’t hurt him.”

“Don’t worry for a minute,” he continued with a sweet smile, “I have no intention of causing Carl any kind of pain, heart or otherwise.”

Landon winked and Mikala rolled her eyes when the double entendre sunk in.

“Oh, behave,” Mikala teased.

“You’re no fun.”

 

“Mik!” Carl hollered, from behind the bar.

Mikala appeared at the office door with a stack of old magazines in her arms and plopped them down looking rather frazzled. “What now, Carl?”

Carl thumbed to his right towards the club entrance. “Don’t bite my head off, the insurance inspector is here, he says he needs to look around.”

“Sorry,” she said. “I don’t mean to be a bitch, I can’t help myself lately.”

“Mmm…” Carl hummed, and went back to arranging bottles under the counter.

The man standing at the door was new to Mikala, she was sure she hadn’t dealt with him before, but somehow he seemed familiar. Dressed all in black from head to toe, she admired his designer suit and questioned in her head, the size of paycheck an insurance inspector would pull. He had dark hair and eyes to match with heavy black rimmed glasses and a deep scar at the corner of his mouth extending midway across his cheek.

Landon stood several feet away and nodded to Mikala when she turned to make sure he was there. His presence made her feel a whole lot better when strangers came around, her nerves were on constant alert, and the headache that ripped through her head was a constant reminder that she was stressed to the max.

“Where would you like to start Mr.…?” she asked, waiting.

“Jones,” he replied, as he scribbled at papers on a clipboard. “Top floor I suppose. We can work our way down from there.”

Mikala concluded, because his quiet voice was somewhat familiar, she had to have had dealings with him and felt a minute bit more relaxed.

“I will have Landon take you up, I can’t…”

“Fine,” he snapped, as he moved to the stair with Landon in toe, before she could finish her sentence.

“Asshole,” she murmured, while heading to the third floor, taking the elevator instead of climbing the stairs in heels.

The long corridor housing the private rooms reminded her of a hallway in an apartment building, with burgundy scroll patterned carpet and plain taupe color walls. Each door bore a brass nameplate instead of a number and above each door sat a hidden camera disguised to look like a light fixture. She played in her mind how to explain the rooms as she heard footsteps coming down the stairs.

Mr. Jones opened the first door he came to before Mikala had a chance and stepped inside. To her relief, the room was nothing more than four blank walls and hardwood floors. The decorators had not begun to apply the themed mural and paint, and the furniture was not scheduled for delivery until two weeks from Friday.

As they entered the last of the six rooms, Mr. Jones asked without taking his eyes from the clipboard, “What are these rooms delegated for?”

“Guest accommodations,” she quickly answered, glancing over at Landon, who was scowling in Mr. Jones’ direction.

“Running a hotel now? I don’t see anything in regards to licensing for hotel rooms,” he said, fanning through his many papers.

“No. These are simply rooms where patrons can stay, if they’ve had a few too many drinks. Staff as well will be permitted to use these rooms for breaks or whatever.”

“Whatever? What exactly would that mean, Miss Santino?” he met her glare for a moment, sending an uncomfortable shiver up her spine.

“Meaning
whatever
,” she challenged him to probe further.

“You do realize that instituting overnight guests will have a major impact to how we calculate your insurance? Liability and accident insurance will definitely apply as well as theft and special content, it could be quite costly. You should perhaps reconsider.”

“You should perhaps not let the door smack your ass on the way out,” Mikala mumbled under her breath, crossing her arms over her chest standing defiant. “I know what’s involved, thank you.”

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