“Damn. You’re good. Let’s do that. Noon okay?”

“See you there.”

After the call ended, I looked up and saw Wheeler at the counter eating what looked like a sloppy joe. He sucked sauce off his finger and shoved a few tater tots into his mouth. I was going to have to give him tomorrow afternoon off. Reno would be all the bodyguard I needed, and I didn’t want to risk them finding out about each other. Reno might back out completely if he found out too many resources were being extended to me, and I needed him.

My, this was getting more complicated than I first thought.

“Why do I feel like I’ve seen you before?”

I glanced up at the man who had walked in a moment ago. A pair of narrow shades with orange lenses sat low on the bridge of his nose, allowing me to see his eyes. His neck and forearms were red in contrast to the skin just beneath his sleeves. He had a small potbelly and hair on his knuckles. I only noticed that because the fingers on his left hand were splayed on my table.

“Maybe I look familiar because you were gawking at me when you walked in?” I suggested. I really wasn’t in the mood for this; clearly he had seen me perform. It went with the territory, and while most were gentlemen about it, ten percent of those customers felt like they owned me outside the club.

“Ah,” he said, as if reaching an epiphany. “Almost didn’t recognize you in a dress. I think you look sexier without it. How come I haven’t seen you at Palazio’s?”

I hadn’t worked at that human club in over five years, and those were desperate times. “Because I’m working in a prestigious law firm.”

“Well that’s a travesty,” he said insincerely. “Are you here alone? I’d love to hear all about your new job. Why don’t I buy your lunch?”

Wow. Way too eager.

“I’m not interested, and I prefer to eat alone.” I didn’t say it in a rude way, but I’d learned a long time ago not to give a man the idea he could pressure me. Firm and to the point. That lets a girl know who the assholes are right away.

“That’s not very nice. I remember you being so much nicer,” he said, his eyes traveling across my body as if they had a passport. “If you’re busy now, why don’t I take you somewhere this weekend? There’s a nice steakhouse up the road.” He reached out and brushed his fingers on my arm. “I’m Dave. Is Gypsy your real name, or was that just a stage thing?”

A teenage girl at a nearby table was watching with interest, and suddenly I felt like I could be her life lesson on how she should allow men to treat her.

“No, Dave. I’m not interested, and I’d like you to leave my table. I don’t think we’d be having this conversation if you hadn’t recognized me from the club. Be a sweetheart and pay attention when a woman says no.”