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Richardson flipped open his notepad. “Can you think of anyone who might have a motive to do this? Any business rivals or personal enemies?”
I ran a hand through my hair, wracking my brain. “Honestly, no. We’re new in town, still getting established. We haven’t made any enemies that I know of.”
“You said your other office is in California. What about back there?” he pressed. “Anyone who might have followed you here?”
I shook my head. “I left things on good terms there. This doesn’t make any sense.”
Richardson nodded, jotting something down. “What about your employees? Anyone recently been fired or passed over for promotion?”
“No, nothing like that,” I said firmly. “We’re still building our team here. Everyone’s new.”
The officer’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Mr. Gracen, I have to ask. Is there anything you’re not telling us? Anything that might shed light on this situation?”
I bristled at the implication. “Officer, I want to find out who did this as much as you do. If I knew anything that could help, I’d tell you.”
Richardson held my gaze for a moment, then nodded. “Alright. We’ll be interviewing all your employees and reviewing the security footage. In the meantime, I’m afraid you won’t be able to use the office today. But I’d appreciate it if you could stay nearby while we question your staff.”
I nodded, frustration bubbling up inside me. “Of course. Whatever you need.”
As Richardson walked away, I slumped into one of the lobby chairs, my head in my hands. This was not how I’d imagined my day going.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Sienna
I drummed my manicured nails against the polished surface, syncing with the pulsating rhythm barely audible to my sultry performers. It was unusual for me to keep the volume so low, but with a fresh face gracing our stage tonight, I needed to ensure my commands could cut through if necessary.
My new dancer, Annie, was absolutely killing it. She’d mastered Venus’s part in a heartbeat and took direction like a goddamn pro. Never once did she get her panties in a twist when I pointed out her rare missteps, and she powered through repetitive drills without so much as a peep. If only all my dancers had her can-do attitude.
Her presence had lit a fire under JJ’s perfectly toned ass, too. She’d never been a slacker, but Annie’s arrival made me realize that before, this had just been another gig for JJ. Now she was savoring every sensual movement. I couldn’t give two shits if they were hooking up or not from a professional standpoint. Personally? If they were getting freaky, more power to them.
One thing I loved about Club Privé was our “you do you” mentality. We had each other’s backs, whether you wore your heart on your sleeve or kept that shit locked down tight.
Of course, we occasionally had to deal with some overbearing big brother/sister crap. Not the possessive kind—I’d sooner have a root canal than tolerate that here. No, just your garden-variety protective vibes. As someone who grew up without siblings, I actually appreciated it. Most of the time, anyway.
As my dancers’ bodies intertwined on stage, executing their transition with the grace of synchronized swimmers, I nodded my approval. Dana, despite her laser focus, flashed me a victorious grin. I was relieved to see her back in the groove. Though this routine differed from the one she’d previously botched, her renewed concentration was as clear as the sweat glistening on her taut abs.
Ironically, I was the one struggling to concentrate this afternoon.
I’d been grappling with emotions ever since Fury and I had our steamy encounter. The crushing realization that I could never be with him again slammed into me like a ton of bricks. He’d shown up at the club the following night, and the one after that, persistent as hell. I’d kept my lips sealed about the panic attack and those gut-wrenching flashbacks, let alone what he’d unknowingly done to trigger them. Fury was the kind of stand-up guy who’d beat himself up over it, and I didn’t want that on my conscience.
There was also the matter of my checkered past. He might’ve pieced together some bits based on my occasional slip-ups, and Gavin might’ve accidentally spilled some beans. But knowing I’d worked as an “escort” years ago was a far cry from hearing the gritty details.
The last thing I wanted was for Fury to look at me with that same pity everyone else did when they heard about the assaults. Pity... and that unspoken blame. Sure, he had no qualms about getting down and dirty at a sex club, so I doubted he’d slut-shame a woman. But whether that open-mindedness extended to sex workers? I wasn’t about to roll those dice.
Unable to explain any of this to him, I’d resorted to ghosting. Or at least, I’d been trying to. It wasn’t easy to ghost someone who kept showing up at the club like clockwork. I did my damnedest to ignore him, but he seemed oblivious to the fact that my lukewarm responses were more than just being swamped with work.
But last night, for the first time, Fury was a no-show at the club. Maybe he’d finally gotten the message.
Fury had been rolling in like clockwork the past few nights, but when his usual arrival time came and went without a glimpse of those broad shoulders, I got antsy. My neck was getting a workout from constantly looking over my shoulder, hoping to catch sight of him striding towards me with that cocky grin.
But he never showed.
I tried to convince myself it was a relief to do my job without him hovering over me, but the gnawing ache in my gut wouldn’t let up.
He’d thrown in the towel.
Which was exactly what I wanted. Right? Or what I should have wanted, for christ’s sake. After all, I’d been giving him the cold shoulder ever since we’d fucked that second time. I’d figured hooking up twice would’ve been enough to satisfy Fury’s curiosity.
