Free Stolen Petals by Katherine McIntyre Page B

after her. Besides, she'd hear any coming her way well in advance. Keen senses came after years of training.
    The Rusty Scupper's sign splayed out in lurid red neons with the same tackiness as the buildings out in the gambling mecca, Reno. The smell of garbage, stew, and cheap timber wafted out from the sallow lit building. Scratchy sounds from an old jukebox filtered through the holes in the walls and sludge dripped along the brick exterior. Viola's upper lip curled but she strolled inside as if she owned the place. No matter what station one held, confidence was everything.
    Sounds of a downtown bar washed over her—grunts, raucous laughter, and thuds from drinks dropping and fists slinging. Viola wasted no time associating with the denizens of the bar or bartender. Instead, she made a beeline to the back where a familiar hazel-eyed rogue sat with two drinks already on the table. Not like she wasn't paying attention to the activity in the bar—only a fool wouldn't—she just didn't care. To the right, men brawled and at least seven pairs of eyes honed in on her, most with hungry expressions. However, hands weren't moving for their weapons, so she wasn't concerned.
    "I see you've taken it upon yourself to order for me." Viola folded her arms across her chest as she came to a halt in front of the Fox.
    He lifted the second glass of the emerald elixir and gave her the sort of smile that would send most women reeling. She accepted with a polite nod and held it to her nose, pretending to take in the aroma. The drink was the correct green for absinthe whereas a sedative would make it milkier. Bitter, sweet licorice wafted up from the liquid, but no other herbal fragrance stood out. Shouldn't be spiked.
    She took the first sip as she sat, aware he wouldn't pull out the seat for her. The absinthe rolled across her tongue, allowing her to relax.
    "Edward Van Clef at your service." He tipped his hat, a crooked tooth poking out with his grin.
    "Viola Embrees." She pursed her lips. The scoundrel had already found her establishment, so false names were pointless. He sat in silence, his eyes honing in on her painted lips and resting on her porcelain chest. Ever the gentleman. Up close, Edward wasn't unattractive. Boorish and ragged, yes, but he had deep-set eyes and a long chin that widened with his smile. Perhaps if he stumbled onto a bath and a tailor he could even be considered handsome. Viola sipped the absinthe again to cover up her stare.
    "I'm relieved you decided to indulge my request." His voice lowered with a hint of glibness. "I was concerned you'd toss the invitation considering who it was from. Not that I haven't enjoyed our competition in the past, I jus t — " he halted, frowned, and lifted the cup to his lips.
    Viola waited for him to continue. What about this bounty did Fox want so badly he'd work with her? The question enflamed her curiosity like nothing else.
    "Are you going to get to the point?" Viola murmured into her drink. "After all, why bother with niceties given the illustrious–history–that we've managed to build with barely a glimpse of one another."
    His grin widened. "My dear, business is business. I can't help but fall victim to deceit and manipulation as any addict can stave off gambling."
    "You sell your company so well." Viola cast a glance over to the waitresses who wandered through, ranging from bony to sallow. Most of these women hadn't seen better days and never would. Every single one of them had the same haunted look of women from Shantytown, that world weariness. A taller waitress with a bush of ratty black hair brushed by her and Viola didn't miss the venom in the woman's eyes. She returned the glare with similar coldness. Envy her all they wanted, but she'd fought her way out and would never, ever return.
    "Who needs to sell a point when I've got what you want?" He ran the tip of his tongue over his teeth. Of all the insufferable men around, she was saddled with one of the worst.
    "That all