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“Hi. I’m inquiring about the dancer position. Can you point me in the right the direction?” I ask, after swallowing thickly. The giant of a man doesn’t say anything. He just stares at me with his mouth open a little bit. “Sir?”
He clears his throat and stands up. Instinctively, I take a step back from him. He doesn’t come any closer.
“Are you new around here?” he asks. His voice is thick and gravelly. It goes straight to my core, causing me to shiver.
“Ah, yes. Just now actually. I’m Celeste,” I say, extending my hand to him. I don’t know why I felt compelled to give him my real name, but I did. It’s out there now, and I don’t hate it. “Are you the manager?”
“No, Lil’ Bit, I’m not. I’m Xavier, but my friends call me Patriot.” Lil bit? Who does this guy think he is?
“Nice to meet you, Patriot.” I give him my best smile.
“It definitely is,” he replies but doesn’t say anything else.
“So… the manager?” I ask, trying to look around his big body, but it’s no use.
“No.”
“No?”
“You can’t be a dancer here.” His firm response takes me by surprise.
“Why not?” I ask, on the verge of tears. I need a job to be able to pay for the car repairs.
I start to panic. My breathing becomes labored and constricted.
And then nothing.
CHAPTER3
PATRIOT
“Shit,” I growl as I catch her before she hits the floor. I carry her to the nearest couch, praying it’s not covered in some skivvy guys jizz. I lie her down and call for a glass of water, which Becca rushes over. I drop down to my knees in front of her and brush her hair away from her face. At my touch she jerks awake, her big blue staring up at me. Then she tries to scramble away from me. “Hold on, girl. Drink this,” I say handing her the glass of water Becca brought me.
“How do I know that you didn’t put something in it?” she asks.
“Smart girl,” I say, taking a huge gulp of the cold water. After that she sits up and drinks the water.
“Thank you. I don’t know what came over me.”
“Are you alright now?”
“Yes, but I need the dancer job. Can you please point me in the right direction.”
“Do you have any experience?” I ask, suddenly needing to know if she’s bared herself to others before.
“No.” Good, I think letting about a breath that I didn’t realize I was holding in.
“What do you have experience with?”
“I can waitress.”
“You’re hired,” I say, not even a hundred percent sure I have the authority to do that. I smooth it over with the boss though.
“I am?”
“To be clear, that job is for a fully clothed waitress. You got that?”
“Yes. Thank you so much,” she says, clearly grateful.
