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Don doesn’t hesitate before answering. “No. Absolutely not. We still followed the rules of the club, and both women were perfectly sated and blissed out before I left.”
“You went to theirs? Both times?”
“I don’t like to take anyone to the flat unless there’s no choice. Haven’t had anyone over in months now.”
I stare at Don, almost not knowing whether to believe him or not. But his unwavering gaze tells me everything I need to know – he’s telling the truth. I let out a sigh of relief, my stress levels finally starting to dissipate.
“Okay. That’s good to know. But we still need to find out what’s causing our staff to quit, if it’s not your dick.”
Don nods. “I’ll keep an eye out, see if I can pick up on anything.” He stands up from his chair, ready to leave the office. “But North, you know we’re going to have to find someone to replace Holly and Eira soon. The VIP area can’t run on its own.”
I nod, knowing full well what he’s saying is true, hence my stress levels being so high. “I’ll put out some feelers,” I tell him. “See if anyone’s interested in the job, temporarily at least.”
As he leaves, a pang of guilt hits me. Don’s my friend, my business partner, and I’ve just accused him of being responsible for the recent staff turnover. But I know that I have to put the safety and well-being of our employees first. I feel like there’ssomething else going on here, something deeper at play. I just hope I can figure it out fast, before we lose any more staff.
CANDY
The door swings open and my interviewer stands before me. Well, actually the first thing I see is highly polished dress shoes peeking out from smart black slacks because my eyes are glued to the floor with nervous excitement fluttering in my stomach. When he doesn’t say anything, I slowly drag my eyes up his body, drinking him in, until I meet his stony green eyes. They’re the colour of deep evergreens bathed in morning light, and together with the beauty of his chiselled face, he’s quite breathtaking. Intimidating.
Shit! He looks pissed.
“Come in.” His words are polite enough, if a little clipped, but his tone isn’t overly welcoming.
I swallow and wonder what I’m doing here.
My head is screaming at me to turn around, get out and go home, but my feet have entered his reception hall of their own accord, damn them. I guess my feet know how desperate we are, even if my brain is in denial.
The door shuts with a heavy and final click, the echo of it ringing through the room and making me jump.
“Have you eaten?” His voice is cold. Impersonal. But not uncaring.
“I had a bagel for lunch. I wasn’t that hungry.” My voice is shaky. Why am I even telling him this? It doesn’t affect my ability to interview for the position.
“You need to eat properly.” He sighs, sounding inconvenienced somehow. I wonder, as I worry the inside of my cheek between my back molars, if he regrets inviting me to come and interview for some reason.
“Sorry.” My voice is barely above a whisper. I’m still standing, just inside his hall, staring at my feet. I can’t seem to peel my eyes away from my scuffed flats – so different to his polished to perfection smart shoes.
“Follow me. Let’s get some food inside you and then we’ll see where this is going.”
As he brushes past me, I’m enveloped in the scent of bergamot, incense and vetiver. It’s a struggle not to inhale deeply and lose myself in the warm, fresh, earthy smell. It’s divine. Expensive. It suits him.
He leads me through a gorgeous bright breakfast room to the kitchen beyond, and I do my best not to stare at the opulent, but somehow still homely, surroundings. The room is sleek and modern, all monochrome and steel, but oddly it works with the period features of the house. Even though it’s getting dark, I can see that the kitchen looks out onto a long wild garden that is lined with trees, showing views of fields beyond. I knew the taxi had brought me right out to the outskirts of the city, but I wasn’t expecting this. The view is beautiful and peaceful, calming and soothing to my tattered nerves, as he clatters around me getting plates and drinks.
I watch him. He’s considerably older than me, maybe early forties if I had to guess, but his age, and certainly the gap between us, does nothing to diminish his attractiveness.
He’s wearing all the trappings of a suit, though he seems to have shed his jacket and tie at some point before my arrival.The top two buttons of his crisp white shirt are undone, and silver cufflinks glint in the light as he moves. There’s something about the way he holds himself, something precise and exacting in his movements that makes me wonder if he has some sort of military background perhaps.
His hair is slicked back and so dark it appears black, and he has chiselled cheekbones so sharp they could cut. I like the neatly trimmed dark stubble on his face.
I wonder what it would feel like between— nope.
I realise I’m staring, and drooling a little. There’s no denying that he’s absolutely gorgeous, oozing the confidence and power you’d expect of a billionaire CEO, rather than a guy cooking in his own home.
“That smells amazing.” I breathe in the rich aroma, trying not to moan. He was obviously preparing this food before I arrived, so I hope he’s not grouchy with me for interrupting his meal. Then again, he was the one who insisted on interviewing me right away. “Sorry I don’t think we exchanged names? I’m...Grace, Gracie.”
“Is that your real name?” he asks, immediately picking up on my slight hesitation and pouncing.
“Erm,” I frown. “It’s my middle name.”
