A slight smirk developed at the corner of her enticing mouth before she responded, “Seems like you’re in need of a drink.”

“And how might you be of service? Are you going to climb over the bar and make me one?” I said as my eyes briefly caressed her bare skin.

“As enticing as that sounds, I wouldn’t want to break a nail,” she quipped, her smile growing. “I was thinking of something a bit more conventional. How about I flirt with that bartender?” she said, pointing to the one nearest us.

He was good-looking, young. Probably an actor, working his way toward his big break.

Weren’t they all?

“He’s had his eye on me all night. I think it’s time to cash in.”

“And what do you get out of this deal, besides the obvious—a drink and a few compliments from the bartender?” I inquired, quirking my eyebrow in curiosity.

“Well,” she began, “the compliments are always nice to hear, but you’ve got me. I do have nefarious plans. You see, I noticed you when you walked in. And I happened to see you shake hands with the bouncer. Now, I come here a few times a month, and I’ve noticed a pattern. A handshake from Tony means a spot in VIP. Am I wrong?”

I took a long look at her one last time, wondering what angle she might have.

Money? Just sex? Money and sex?

Suddenly, I didn’t care anymore.

“So, how about that drink?” the redhead with no name asked.

“I’ll have a whiskey sour.”

“Done.”

The sexy redhead, whose name I’d learned was Morgan, had kept good on her word, and we’d both had drinks in our hands within minutes. She’d even scored a phone number from the young bartender, who was—as I’d guessed—paying his dues in an off-Broadway play until he made it big.

Him and half of New York.

The longer I lived in this city, the less and less I actually came in contact with true New Yorkers. Everyone was from some small city in some unknown state, looking to make it big. Some, like our bartender, wanted to act while others had loftier goals and wanted to make it to Wall Street.

Whatever it was, the people in this town were hungry for it.

It was why I couldn’t let my guard down or fall behind in business. There were half a dozen guys just like me waiting to take my place, either by buying us out or stomping us out as the competition.

That was why I always beat them to it.

There were no friends in business—at least, not here.

“So, what do you do during the day?” Morgan asked, lounging back in the plush velvet sofa in the VIP area.