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I cleared my throat and then I heard myself say the last thing I ever thought I would. “Why? Isn’t that okay?”
I could have kicked myself. What was I doing—asking his permission to work? He stared steadily back at me and thank goodness he ignored my question. Mostly. Instead, he looked directly at me and said, “You’re not here looking for me?”
Looking for him? The question struck me as funny, like I was some crazy stalker. I laughed again.
“For you? No, I had no idea you were one of the owners here. I was looking for a job, and this one became available. That’s it.”
“I see. So, you’ve left your home in Orlando to come all the way down here just for a job?”
“It’s not exactly an epic journey, but yeah. So what? I’m working for a while to earn money to maybe go back to school. Besides, I like the beach.”
“Okay.”
Awkward. I stood there shifting my feet for a few seconds and then shrugged. “Well, I guess I need to get back to work, unless I can get you a drink.”
“No. Go ahead.”
I felt awkward and stood there for another second or two, feeling like I should say more, like I needed his damn permission. But that was stupid even though I’d just fucking asked for it. I nodded and went back over toward Tommy. His eyes were big and curious, but I shook my head at him and shrugged. We were getting busier, and we both needed to take care of customers.
Somehow, I got through the rush, and Michael left a few minutes later. It was a couple of hours after that when I noticed my supervisor, Toby, motioning to me. I went over to him, my feet dragging a little. His words confirmed my fears.
“Hey Cruz, Mr. Bradley would like to speak to you in the office.”
I must have gone a little pale, because he shook his head right away and said, “I’m sure you’re not in trouble or anything. He just wants a quick word.”
I told Tommy where I’d be and headed toward the office. Standing outside the door, I could hear a couple of voices inside, so I knocked softly, feeling like I was interrupting. The door opened suddenly and Jerry, the club manager and the guy who’d hired me stepped past me with a smile.
“Hi, Cruz. You can go in. He’s waiting for you.”
I took a deep breath and stepped inside. He was sitting behind the desk, his jacket off and his tie loosened. He had a lot of paperwork spread out on the desk in front of him, so he’d obviously been working. He looked tired and rumpled and altogether gorgeous. Just looking at him made me wonder why I ever thought we could have a relationship beyond a one-night stand. Hell, even that was a total gift. He was way out of my league.
He leaned back in his chair and looked me over in that way that Doms have of not just looking at you but inspecting you. I don’t think they’re even aware of it all the time, but I’d noticed it a lot since I’d been at the club.
I tried to remember if he’d ever brought up the fact that the club he owned was a BDSM club during that first date, and I honestly didn’t think he had. I remembered asking what he did for a living, and he’d said he was part owner in a nightclub, and that was it. I knew he hadn’t mentioned that he had a club down in Ft. Lauderdale, and I wondered if that was new or if this club had been recently acquired. Or at least since that long ago pool party in Orlando. Maybe I should have been more curious about him then, but I’d been so struck by how attractive he was, I’d never asked many questions. And he’d never volunteered the information.
“How have you been, Cruz?”
“Not too bad.”
“It’s been a while.”
“Yes.”
“And do you enjoy working here?”
“Yes.”
He leaned forward and gave me a smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Is that all I’m getting? Just yes? Nothing else you want to say?”
I shrugged. “What else is there? Look, we had some fun. We went out and you never called me afterward. That’s it.”
“Well, not quite. I thought we made a connection.”
“Yeah, but so what? No big deal, right?”
His lips tightened almost imperceptibly, but I was so hyper-focused on his every move that I noticed it right away.
“It wouldn’t have been, except for the fact that I was under the impression you were of legal age that night. But I see on your employment records that you’ve only turned twenty-one a month before we hired you. That means you weren’t of legal age the night we spent together.”
