Total pages in book: 60
Estimated words: 57707 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 57707 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 289(@200wpm)___ 231(@250wpm)___ 192(@300wpm)
“He was sort of mocking me,” she says with a tired sigh. “Kind of implying that I’m too … well, ugly, I guess.”
“You’re not ugly,” I say a little too loudly. Angry someone would be blind to the beauty before them.
It’s the most I can say. I can feel myself getting drawn in, starting to care, when I know good and well I shouldn’t get involved.
“Did he say anything bad about you?” I ask.
She looks at me sharply. I’m glad I’ve got the road to focus on. Maybe there was something in my tone that gave my true feelings away. “No. It wouldn’t matter anyway. The world’s full of jerks.”
I pull up outside her restaurant. “Whoa, that was fast. I guess it’ll feel that way, though, right, when you’re used to buses?”
“Did you leave your resumé with Simone?” I ask.
She flashes that sassy look again. The tip of my cock twitches. My balls feel like they’re flooding, honestly. I want to peel down her shirt just an inch, just enough to show the perfection of her body, her plump breasts, her …
Her what?
“Yeah. Well, maybe I’ll hear from you,” she says with a clear sense of irony. “Tell Loki he’s always welcome. Bye.”
She leaves before I can reply. I watch her walk away. Her black pants cling tightly to her wide hips, emphasizing her shape. My fingers twitch. Dammit. It’d be so good to sink my hands into her hips, to let my touch disappear into her fullness.
On the ride back, I remember what she said. The guy at the call center … I know where she means. It’s a front for the Trentinis. I park up outside, deciding to pay a visit. I don’t let myself think about the blood pumping fiercely through my veins, the rage pulsing in me, too, thinking about her stripping.
Maya, on a stage, too-bright lights shining on her.
Guido sits up when I walk in. His sleazeball smirk vanishes when he sees me. “Tristan? The fuck you doing here?”
“This place only works if it’s legit,” I growl.
He leans back, raising his hands. “Whoa, who said it’s not legit?”
“You’re redirecting possible employees to Raffie’s club,” I snap, slamming my fist on the desk.
Guido’s staring at me wide-eyed, with the fear I’ve seen many times before. It doesn’t make me proud, but knowing I can inspire that in men is good. It’s good to know I have that level of respect. It’s the only thing that allows me to pick my own path in this fucked-up world.
“I’m doing my job,” he says, but an unmistakable air of caution surrounds him. It’s like he’s suddenly found himself locked in a cage with a big cat. “I’m not trying to steal your business.”
“That would be foolish, but why do you have to send girls there?”
I sit down, adjusting my tone, taking on an “I want to understand” attitude. I can’t let him see how badly I want to smack him across the face for trying to turn young women into strippers. That’s mainly because I can’t let myself think about it too deeply. It’s not her. It’s not Maya making my heart beat so hard with so much purpose.
“Just … to make money. What else? I didn’t mean to …”
He falls short of words, which isn’t unusual when I’m questioning some punk, but Guido isn’t just some punk. My ties with Raffie buy me some small favor—or maybe it’s just tolerance—and I’ve proven myself more than once, but I shouldn’t push it. It’s not like Maya is going to do that kind of work. If she did, with all those eyes on her …“Just get your shit together.”
Turning, I storm out of the small office, my hands opening and closing into fists as though they’ve got minds of their own. I need to relax. Nothing has happened, not really.
Back at work, I walk into the open-air area and scratch Loki on top of his head. He’s all over me, sniffing like crazy.
“Why did you go all the way across the city for her, boy?”
He opens his mouth, letting his tongue hang, keeping his secrets from me. It makes no sense that he’d go so far out of his way, but maybe I’m jumping to conclusions. Perhaps he stopped at several houses, and hers was only one along the way—the only one that matters.
“Come on,” I say, giving Loki a nudge. “I’m sure there’s some crap to clean up.”
As I do my work, Simone calls over, “What should I do with this?”
I look up to find her holding the resumé. I almost tell her to toss it in the trash. Simone was telling the truth when she said we weren’t hiring. That hasn’t magically changed in the last thirty minutes, but I can’t bring myself to do it.
“Leave it on my desk for now.”