“I make it a habit to know things. May I?” He held out his hand, ready to escort her, as his other hand gestured toward the chair.

She placed her hand in his and he assisted her to the empty seat. When she was settled, he walked around his desk and dropped into the wide leather chair.

Who was this criminal with the manners of a courtier and the looks of an Adonis?

Shaking off her thoughts, she said, “But I never told them my name.”

“Do you honestly believe I wouldn’t try to learn the name of the uptown beauty being tutored by Clayton Madden? That is like dangling a red cape in front of a bull, Miss Greene.”

“Then you might as well call me Florence.”

The edge of his mouth hitched, softening his features, and she knew that smile must drive the ladies out of their minds. “Florence it is. Most people just call me Mulligan.” He folded his hands. “Would you care for a drink?”

“No, thank you.” She had no idea where to start. He reclined in his chair and waited patiently, seeming as if he had all the time in the world. She cleared her throat. “I appreciate you seeing me.”

“Curiosity is one of my weaknesses. I can’t imagine why a woman such as yourself would come down to my club in the middle of the night, especially seeing as how you usually spend your time at the Bronze House.”

She took a deep breath for courage. “I wish to hire you.”

“Yes, the boys mentioned as much. May I ask for what?”

Did anything rattle this man? He reminded her of Clay, both calm and methodical men. Stop thinking of Clay. “I wish to open a casino. For ladies. And I need someone to help me learn the business side of things.”

Mulligan’s eyes sparkled as if he was amused. “Hence why Clayton Madden was tutoring you. May I ask what happened?”

“What do you mean?”

“With Clay. I realize he’s a prickly bastard, generally hates people and likes to be alone. But I cannot imagine he hated you.”

Wrong. He hadn’t wanted her around. However, she couldn’t tell Mulligan that. “It seemed he was too busy and couldn’t spare the time.”

Mulligan’s brows knitted as he studied her. “Are you pulling my leg? He couldn’t spare the time for you?”

“So it seems. Now, I’d be willing to pay you for your time—”

Mulligan sat forward and waved his hand. “I have more money than I’ll ever spend. Clayton said what, exactly?”

“That I was a distraction he didn’t need.” Why was Mulligan hammering the point home? She felt terrible enough after Clay’s dismissal. “It’s understandable. I learned quite a lot from him, but it was time for the arrangement to end.” Because he’d acted like a prickly bastard, as Mulligan had described.