They gave her one of the smaller VIP rooms for the meeting—lush, quieter, set up more like a high-end lounge than a s*x suite. Low lighting, leather seating, a bar cart in the corner. No bed in sight. That was something.
Manny kept her waiting just long enough to establish that he could.
Evalyne used the time to skim what Marcus had sent her, the contract glowing on her phone screen. It was as good as it could be under the circumstances: dense paragraphs about transfer of service, assumption of debt, non-compete, non-disclosure. She'd sign it. Whether Manny read it was his problem.
The door opened with a hiss of hydraulics.
Manny walked in with the practiced ease of someone who believed every room he entered belonged to him.
He was shorter than she'd expected, thick through the middle
