The bar hid my raging hard-on, while I sat and sipped my drinks. A few times our eyes locked and I was sure she was blushing. She was starting to sweat and the back of her tight shirt was clinging to her body. The strands of red hair close to her face, stuck to her cheeks. She looked incredibly sexy, exactly the way I imagined she would when I was done fucking her.
Once the doors were locked, I downed the last of my drink and waited to make my move. Firing someone had never been hard for me, but knowing she needed the job made it a little difficult.
I didn’t want to hurt her, and I knew when she walked out of my club, she’d have no idea how much money I was going to start paying her. She would probably be upset, until I made my proposition.
One minute she was there next to her friend, cleaning tables, and the next she was gone. I stood from the bar and moved around the room, pretending I wasn’t searching for someone. Finally, I gave up and moved outside. I made my way into the alley beside the club and that’s where I found her.
She was leaning into the window of an Oldsmobile. It wasn’t the smartest place for a girl to be out alone, and I was about to walk over and bring her back inside when I heard her speak.
“I’m sorry, Kyle. I know it’s boring, but we don’t have any other choice until I make enough to get into an apartment.” She swiped at her cheek and I was sure she was crying. “I’m almost done. I just needed to come out here and check on you. Let me run in, finish cleaning my tables, and grab my tips. Don’t unlock these doors for anyone and stay low.”
And then she was coming toward me. I stepped into the shadows and watched as she passed on her way back into the bar. When the door shut behind her, I crept into the alley and peeked into the back window.
A boy. A young one at that, was curled up on the backseat reading a book with a tiny flash light. My Jessica looked too young to have a son his age, but then again, what did I know about how women aged. I’d once slept with a forty-year-old I was sure was younger than me.
Going back inside, I went straight upstairs to my office.
“Vick, I have a job for you.”
She looked up from the night’s paperwork and frowned at me. “Right now? Can’t it wait? I have work to do here.”
I knew she was still pissed off about losing two people, but she could get the fuck over it. “Leave the paperwork, I’ll do it. There’s a car in the alley beside the bar. Follow it.” I didn’t give her time to answer, before I turned and left my office.
Taking the stairs two at a time, I went straight to Jessica and prepared myself to fire her. I wasn’t about to let the fact that she possibly had a son get in the way of what I wanted. More mouths to feed meant she needed money. It was the perfect scenario.
“I need to speak with you,” I said from behind her.
She turned around and gasped like she was surprised I was still inside the club. Obviously, she hadn’t figured out who I was yet.
“Excuse me?” she replied, looking around for help. “The club is closed. You’re not supposed to be…”
I laughed. “Sweetheart, I own the fucking place. I assure you, I have every right to be here.”
I turned and walked toward the bar, without waiting for her to follow.
Four
Rosslyn
Saturday nights were even busier than Friday nights. By the time we closed, my feet were aching and so was my lower back.
I’d been too busy to even go out and check on Kyle during the night. He refused to stay at Trish’s house, and honestly, I knew I couldn’t keep depending on her. Instead, I parked our car in the abandoned alley beside the club, with plans to sneak out and check on him every thirty minutes.
He had books and a flashlight and I made sure he knew not to open the door for anyone, but still, I was a nervous wreck all night. As soon as I could, I left the bar and snuck out to the alley to check on him. I found him sitting there reading with an annoyed look on his face. He obviously felt too old to be checked on.
When I got back inside to finish up, I was met with the gorgeous guy from before. I’d noticed him staring at me earlier in the night. He was always staring, and a couple of times I thought he was going to approach me, but he never did.
Most of the men in the club had no problems with expressing their interest. It wasn’t like I was surprised by their groping hands or fuck-me eyes. We were practically wearing nothing, so it was to be expected. That didn’t mean I liked it, in fact I hated it. It made me feel sleazy and dirty.
That wasn’t the case when tall, dark, blue eyes looked at me though. There was something dangerous about him. He encouraged the extra sway in my hips when I moved through the room, and as much as I wanted to be embarrassed by it, he was the reason I pulled my shirt down a few extra inches.