I didn’t bother looking over my shoulder. I didn’t care who was arriving but also the person arriving likely wished the same thing.

I heard a pleasantly deep man’s voice say, “Dewar’s. Rocks.”

“Yes, Mr. Grant.”

No noise after that undoubtedly because the carpeting muted him moving to his seat and Ms. Ross would never in a million years make too much noise closing the door behind her.

However, I only vaguely considered those thoughts.

I was still stuck on the pleasant deepness of the man’s voice.

I wanted that. I wanted that to let my mind take flight. I wanted the next scene I viewed to be stirring and to use that voice and my imagination to make some fabulous man up in my head who had a pleasantly deep voice who could do pleasant things to me. Then I would go home and create an even more fabulous fantasy with my hand between my legs.

These thoughts in my head, I heard the swish of fabric that was probably him setting aside a suit jacket, and out of habit at the sound, my head turned left.

I took one look and turned my attention back to my phone.

His voice had a pleasant deepness.

His appearance was so beyond pleasant, it was startling.

I waited, not wishing to be caught looking, and Ms. Ross returned with his drink only moments before the window illuminated for the next scene.

Only then did I allow myself to look at him again.

He had his eyes to the window, the drink to his lips.

I looked away quickly. But this time I’d noticed something so I couldn’t help myself from just as quickly casting another glance his way before I again looked away.

I’d been correct.

It was Nick Sebring.

I focused on my breathing, keeping it calm, my eyes to the window, my attention on my thoughts.

In my business, no, in my world, one made it a point to know men such as the Sebring brothers.

On several occasions, I had met Knight Sebring, a Denver nightclub owner who also provided protection and client vetting for a stable of ladies of the evening.

We had no dealings with Knight. He had a niche and kept to his niche, making it clear he had no interest in expanding his operation outside the women he had under his protection. Unless a client was exceptionally stupid, Knight also had little to no problems with any of his businesses. He lived quiet and extremely comfortably with his partner, Anya, and their two daughters.

Some years ago, perhaps seven or eight, Nick Sebring had worked for his brother, Knight. There had been a falling out, the reason for which I was not privy. After this Knight cut his brother loose.