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By the second potential dancer, I almost felt like things were back to normal. That alone should have warned me that trouble was brewing.
“I don’t need a fucking escort! I assure you, I’m quite familiar with this club’s layout. I’m always thorough regarding my investments.”
An unfamiliar male voice, raised in anger, drew my attention to the employee hallway. Moments later, a tall, lean man I didn’t recognize appeared, followed closely by a visibly irritated Gus.
“And I told you, I don’t care who you are,” Gus said tensely. “Unless Mr. Manning explicitly instructs me to allow someone unsupervised access outside operating hours, it’s my job to keep eyes on them.”
The stranger’s lip curled into a sneer. “Well, if I have any say, it won’t be your job much longer.”
His icy gaze swept over the handful of workers performing their usual tasks, lingering inappropriately on the women. I saw plenty of lust in his expression, but there was something beneath the leering - something calculating and assessing, as if he were mentally cataloging each person he saw.
“It’s good to see Gavin still has excellent taste in eye candy,” he remarked, seemingly to no one in particular, yet expecting everyone to hang on his every word. “New outfits will need to be issued to maximize everyone’s assets.”
What the hell was he talking about?
“Of course, the male-to-female ratio will need adjustment. While there’s some demand for men in these establishments, women are definitely more lucrative.” His eyes fell on Bernie, our head of cleaning, taking in her age and the scar on her cheek. “We’ll also need to implement appearance regulations. We can’t have a sex club where employees’ looks turn men off.”
Before any of us could figure out how to respond or who this man even was, Gavin appeared, looking as unhappy as he had on Saturday night. He also looked exhausted, beyond mere sleeplessness.
“Thank you, Gus,” Gavin said. “I’ll take it from here.” He turned to the older man. “Mr. Dalton, if you’ll come with me, we’ll have our meeting in my office.”
Shooting a look over his shoulder at Gus, this Mr. Dalton said, “You know, Mr. Manning, I expected better of your hires, as their continued employment will only be guaranteed if they do their jobs. And I’m sure you’ll agree, accosting and harassing their new employer is hardly the way to make a good first impression.”
He actually sniffed, like some blue-blood deigning to mingle with commoners. Judging by his clothes and stick-up-his-ass walk, I didn’t doubt he had money. But if I’d learned anything about pretentious wealthy people, it was that no amount of money could buy class or respect. I didn’t know who this silver-haired man with sharp blue eyes was, but I already disliked him.
As Gavin and Mr. Dalton disappeared toward the elevator, I looked at Gus and asked, “What the fuck was that about?”
Gus shook his head. “No idea. He just showed up claiming he had a meeting with Gavin.”
“Given the boss’s mood, I expect he’ll set that jerk straight,” I said before turning my attention back to Rita, today’s last auditioning server.
In her early thirties, she looked years younger and had a classic dancer’s build. I just didn’t know if she had the skills to match.
“You’re up,” I told her.
When she was in position on stage, I started her music and focused on her rather than whatever was transpiring in Gavin’s office.
Or on the more persistent presence in my thoughts.
I’d been replaying Fury’s apology and almost kiss before storming out of my office, ever since it happened, still unsure what it meant - or if it meant anything at all. For all I knew, it was a heat-of-the-moment thing, handled differently than our previous heated encounter.
And that, of course, led me to thinking about how he’d literally handled me last week...
I gave myself a mental shake as I realized I’d started drifting. I had to get a grip. I was at work and needed to be professional. More importantly, it was disrespectful and rude to Rita, who’d clearly put significant time and effort into her routine. My job, my dancer, my co-workers, my friends - those were important. Not some random guy I’d hooked up with, no matter how hot the sex had been.
I jotted down a few notes and, as the music reached its end, prepared to ask some questions. I didn’t get the chance because as soon as the music stopped, we could all hear raised voices coming from the direction of the elevator.
“I don’t give a damn what Fury Gracen told you about me! We had a verbal agreement and now you’re getting cold feet. I won’t stand for it,” Mr. Dalton shouted, his tanned skin flushed as he entered the room. “Do you understand me? I will ruin you.”
Even from where I stood, I could see the muscles in Gavin’s jaw clenching, but his voice remained calm as ever when he spoke.
“We made no deals. Nothing was signed. I said I’d consider your offer, and I did.”
“You went to Fury Gracen and believed whatever lies he’s telling about me.” Mr. Dalton turned and pointed at Gavin, but his hand dropped almost immediately, as if he’d suddenly realized how much larger my boss was.
I didn’t need to know Mr. Dalton to recognize that he was used to being the biggest bully in the playground. Gavin, however, had the sort of presence that commanded attention.
“Fury and I discussed your offer,” Gavin said. “And then I decided to decline it.”
