"Smooth, Harrington," she says but, honestly, if Darlington wasn't here and she wasn't his, hook line sinker for better or worse, she might have done than just flirt with Steve. He's the furthest thing from an asshole, even with the lines.

His hand still in hers, she leads him deeper into the club, picking out a deep booth with a velvet bench.

"Sit," she says, pointing.