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I wasn’t necessarily trying to gain a one-up on him. I genuinely enjoyed doing nice favors for friends and strangers alike.
But I didn’t want Felix to be a stranger. I wanted him in my club, having the time of his life.
As we stepped out of the post office together, I screeched to a grinding halt. Nelson Sanderson stood on the curb with that same smug smirk on his face that I constantly wanted to slap right off his lips.
He was leaning against his sleek black Mustang. His arms were crossed, and he shot me a condescending glance over the rims of his black sunglasses.
“What do you want?” I practically hissed.
“To make you another offer,” Nelson said, standing up straight.
“I’ll refuse any offer you make me,” I said with a dismissive wave of my hand. I began walking away. I didn’t have time for Nelson or his antics.
“Two million?” Nelson called out behind me.
I slowly turned around, glaring at him. “No.”
Nelson belted out a patronizing chuckle. “You don’t have the luxury of time, Garret. You know that, right? Time is running out on your end.”
“I know I don’t have time to deal with people like you,” I quipped back.
I spun on a heel and began briskly walking away.
“What was that about?” Felix asked me with a confused frown after we had walked a few steps away from the post office.
I stared straight ahead. I was afraid that if I stole even one glance at him, I would crack. “Never mind.”
Much to my relief, Felix didn’t press me for answers. As we edged closer to the next intersection, I pointed to the right. “I need to head this way, to the bank.”
“Oh, all right.” Felix cast me a handsome and friendly smile with those gorgeous eyes of his. “I guess I’ll be on my way then.”
“So, I’ll see you tonight at the club? Is eight o’clock good for you?”
Felix didn’t skip a beat this time. “Eight is perfect.”
I lightly grazed his arm again, needing to experience the rush of our skin to skin contact one more time before parting ways.
“See you then.” I tossed him a flirty wink and departed, riding on the high of his touch.
Later that afternoon, I was heading downstairs from my apartment. I had the luxury of living above the club, so I was always there in an emergency and I had control over every aspect of the day to day operations.
There were several issues to resolve before the doors opened at seven. Glitches with the bar televisions, a leaky faucet in one of the bathrooms, various issues that were easy to repair, but I had to oversee it all before the club’s nightly opening.
When the doors officially opened for the night, I did what I always did. I walked around the dance floor, the bar areas, the two-story loft balcony, my office, making sure to visit every corner of the club.
I tried to ignore the mounting anxiety I felt waiting for Felix to arrive. The sight of the full club helped soothe my nerves some, but I couldn’t deny that I was only waiting on one man.
I wandered back up the stairs, perching myself in my usual position in the center of the balcony overlook. This was my favorite place to stand and watch the events happening down below. I had a bird’s eye view of my entire club, aside from the private rooms of course, and I felt more in control over everything. If something sketchy unfolded, I would be able to easily spot it from here.
After a while, I glanced at my watch. It was a little after eight. My stomach pattered with anxious butterflies.
“So, he’s a little behind schedule,” I shrugged, reassuring myself. “Maybe he likes to be fashionably late.”
But my heart pounded, and I couldn’t stop sweating. I was nervous that he wasn’t going to show up, and when Felix’s arrival time came and went, my stomach churned in a sea of unrest.
Disappointment settled into my bones and fatigued me. I was suddenly cloaked in mental sorrow. Why was I reacting in such a negative way? I didn’t even know the guy. I had encountered him twice and for less than fifteen-minute conversations a piece. I needed to figure out a way to snap myself out of my bleak demeanor.
I knew what it was. My pride was wounded. I had a bruised ego because a sub pretending to be a Dom had stood me up. I found myself wagering whether I had been given mixed signals by Felix or completely misread his interest in me.
