Patrick’s Day bash. All the sounds clamored along the rafters of Stephen Silver’s entertainment room. The large living space couldn’t be called anything else, but a ballroom. Kenyatta Kramer understood why her boss, the owner of CAKE, would refer to the room as an entertaining one. Large, flat screen televisions, anchored to the walls, flashed various sports programming intermixed with scenes from Ireland. Seating was arranged in close proximity to the televisions. It also worked for intimate group conversations. Dark green streamers and Irish music piped in through the mansion’s interior sound system. Some people performed Irish jigs and step-danced on the dance floor. The party unfurled in a tide of green dyed beer, leprechaun stick-up posters, and metallic-green shamrock confetti glittering across the entire flooring. Kenyatta spied Doran Richards from across the room, felt his dark blue eyes on her like a wet blanket—heavy and all encompassing. Something about the way he looked at her made her clit tighten and her nipples pebble.
