A Little Something Extra

He mentally shrugged before answering the man, “Aye, long night.” He gestured to one of the massive glowing cubes set up around the darkened room. Jena and her friend were dancing on top of it as it changed colors with the beat. “And it’s going to get longer. My woman doesn’t look anywhere near calling it quits.”

“Which one’s yours?” The guy turned and leaned back against the bar as he sipped his drink. His bodyguard stepped forward to keep the crowd away from him.

“The one wearing the sparkly stilts.” He grinned, wondering again how his wife walked in her shoes.

“You’re a lucky man,” the guy said, with speculation in his voice.

“Aye,” Matt said, his eyes on Jena.

A glance around the crowded dance floor told him that his eyes weren’t the only ones on his wife. And he didn’t like the leers some of her admirers were sending her way. It was time to position himself beside her platform.

“Nice talking to you,” he said as he stepped away from the bar.

“I’ll give you fifty grand for her,” the guy in the suit said, stopping Matt in his tracks.

“What the hell?” Matt said.

The man eyed him with calculation. “Eighty grand.”

It was as though he’d slipped into an alternate dimension. The dance floor was still crowded, the music still blared, and the lights still flashed in the darkness. He had to be losing his mind. Because this conversation was at odds with everything he knew to be real.

“Eighty grand,” the man repeated. “All you have to do is walk away right now and let me step in with your woman.”

“Have you lost your mind? You can’t buy a woman,” Matt said. “And I can’t sell her. I don’t bloody own her.”

The guy cocked his head. “You said she was your woman.”

Matt held up his left hand. “My wife,” he snapped.

The man nodded slowly. “A hundred and twenty.”

“Are you even listening to me?” he demanded, and the bodyguard took a menacing step closer. “You don’t buy women.”

The man shrugged like this was a normal occurrence. And maybe it was for him. Who knew? It was bloody surreal for Matt. “Is this one of those prank reality TV shows?” he asked, trying to make sense of the situation.

“No.” The man gave him a tight-lipped smile. “I just know what I want and how to get it.” His eyes hardened. “I’m used to getting what I want.”

“Well, you aren’t getting my wife.”

“Five hundred thousand,” the asshole said.

“You could offer billions, and I still wouldn’t sell her. A, because she isn’t a possession that I can sell. And

B, because selling people is against the law.” With a disgusted shake of his head, Matt turned to stalk away.

A meaty hand on his shoulder halted him. “Boss ain’t done,” the bodyguard said.

“Aye, he is.” Matt shrugged off the guy’s hold and headed for his wife.

He’d taken no more than three steps before the bodyguard blocked his path and the rich asshole stepped in front of him.

“One million dollars and you walk away, leaving the blonde with me.” He looked Matt up and down, assessing, quite rightly, that he wasn’t rolling in money. “All you need to do is hand your account details to my associate here.” He motioned to the meathead.

He was clearly off his head, and Matt had had enough of dealing with him. “Get out of my way. We’re done here.”

A hand tightened on his upper arm, holding him in place. He glared up at the bodyguard. “Let. Go.”

The crowd danced around them, the deafening music and flashing lights making it hard to focus. A staff member appeared at their sides, as though he’d materialized out of thin air.