Chapter 15 #3
It wasn’t a request. I met his eyes, unsure of what to do. I could sit down with him. I’d seen lots of hostesses do that, especially as things slowed down. And I was pretty damn exhausted. I pulled out the chair across from him and sat down.
He watched me, unsmiling. His eyes roamed over me, and I felt his stare like a touch.
He took in every detail, lingering on my mouth and breasts.
Silently, he picked up his glass to drink his whiskey casually.
He usually didn’t order so many, and I wondered if he had a driver to take him to his penthouse.
“You’re usually gone by now, aren’t you?” I asked it only to break the silence. I was growing uncomfortable.
“Yes,” he admitted.
“Are you waiting on Abbi to dance?” Madeline had already done her sets for the night. She was who most people stayed around for, though Abbi had a large number of fans, too. Their style was just completely different. Both were sexy, but Abbi was more subtle about it.
There was nothing subtle about Madeline.
“No. I’m not here for the dancers.”
My eyes shot to his. Was he admitting he only came here for me? Everyone thought it and talked about it, but he’d never verified it.
“Maybe I have a hard time when men hang around you at work because I know what’s under your scrubs.
Maybe I picture their hands on you, and it makes me crazy.
Maybe,” he leaned in, “I want you so bad I can hardly stand it. Maybe I want to beat up any man who talks to you, who looks at you, like I’m some kind of modern-day caveman. ”
My lips had parted as I stared at him.
“Let me have you. Please.” His eyes, usually such a light tone, were dark and heated as he stared at me. His hand was clutched so tightly around his glass that I could see that his fingertips had turned white.
“I… I can’t. You know that,” I whispered, looking around.
“You gave him some of you.” He nodded his head in Thad’s direction.
“That’s… for a reason,” I whispered.
“What reason?”
I closed my eyes. I didn’t want to tell him. It was mainly because I was embarrassed, but I also didn’t want to hear him talk about how he was only interested in being with the women from high society. At least in public.
“Look at me.”
I opened my eyes.
He reached his hand across the table, and I grabbed it.
Besides dancing with him at both Nadine and Daisy’s weddings, this was the only time he’d really touched me.
It felt… electric. Like all those romance books Nadine liked where the couple touched each other and sparks jumped off them or some shit like that.
But it was happening. His touch made me feel warm all over. Thad had put his hands all over me, but Paolo just holding my hand felt more sensual.
“Tell me.”
I swallowed hard. “I’m going to do the auction.”
He frowned.
“The Cinnamon Auction,” I clarified.
“Why? I thought you didn’t want to do that even though you’re living at Cinnamon House.”
“It’s a money thing. I have to do a six-month unpaid internship before I take the PANCE to be a PA.
” The PANCE was the certifying exam to become a physician’s assistant.
“I won’t be able to work at Sugar full-time.
If I’m not full-time, I can’t live at Cinnamon House.
I’d have to come up with the money for tuition, rent, groceries—all of that. ”
“What does it mean for you to be in the auction?”
I couldn’t look at him. I turned my head towards Abbi, but I wasn’t really seeing her.
“It means I won’t have any loans. It means I’ll have my own house or condo.
My car will be paid off. I’ll have money to help me get started in life.
It means I won’t ever be dependent on anyone else ever again, especially not my grandparents.
” Too late, I realized I was revealing too much of my personal life.
He looked at me, not letting me pull my hand away when I tried to. “But what will you have to do?”
I cocked an eyebrow at him. “I think you know. Didn’t you try to create your Vanilla Auction with Carmen? You know, so you wouldn’t have to dirty yourself with any of us.” I gestured to the other hostesses.
He winced. “It sounds so bad when you say it like that.”
I let out a laugh without any mirth. “It sounds bad no matter how you say it.” I stood up. “Anyway, I have to go.”
I tried to pull my hand away again, but he tightened his hold and pulled me to him.
“Is that why you basically fucked him over there?” He gestured behind me to where Thad had been sitting. “You want him to win you?”
I didn’t answer, but I thought my silence was probably answer enough.
“Don’t do the auction. Let me pay for school for you. I’ll get you whatever you would have had in the auction.” He’d pulled me closer, and now his hands were on my waist. “Please. I’d be happy to do it.”
His eyes never left mine as he moved a hand up my body, traveling over my breast and finding my hard nipple through the material of the corset. He flicked it and pinched it, watching me the whole time. I couldn’t help but respond to his touch, my back arching, a small gasp coming from my mouth.
“I’d have you in my penthouse. In my bed. And I’d take a woman like Lyla to events with me.”
My heart sank. To him, I was good enough to fuck but never good enough to be on his arm in public.
It felt like a repeat of Evan. He wanted me as long as no one knew he was with me.
Just in this case it wasn’t cheerleaders and prom queens who were better than me.
It was society women who were down on their luck but bred to be who he wanted to be seen with.
I pulled away. “I don’t think so.”
He looked bereft without being able to touch me. “Why not?”
“I’ll earn the money myself. And I’ll have a contract to protect me.
” I looked pointedly at the clock. It was approaching two AM, which was closing time on weeknights.
For Sugar anyway. He could go down to Cayenne which stayed open until four.
“Can I get you another drink? It’s past last call, but I don’t think any of the Salazars would mind. ”
“What do you do in here after the patrons leave?”
I shrugged. “Just get our tips, change clothes, and head home. Ever since the murders we’ve all walked out together to the parking lot. And we make sure nobody is walking, biking, or taking a ride share home.”
A stripper from Sugar, Candace Key, had been murdered a while back.
It had brought attention to a string of seemingly unconnected murders from the past several years.
Then Daisy had been stalked and a look-a-like had been killed and dumped in the streets.
Even though nothing else had happened for months, everyone was understandably still on edge.
“But there haven’t been any more murders in a while now.”
“Thank goodness,” I said, and then turned to leave.
“Jelly,” he called before I’d gotten far. I turned around. “Why wouldn’t you do it? Why would you rather take the risk of being with someone you don’t know?”
I knew I was revealing more of my pain to him, but I was tired. He’d worn me down. “Because I’m tired of being around people who like me in private but act like they don’t know me in public. I deserve better.”
He flinched as if I’d hit him. I don’t know why… he’s the one who didn’t want to be seen with me. I turned and walked off. This time he let me.