Chapter 8 Marty #2
I texted back pressing the button for the second floor.
I’d seen the necklace Mary was asking about before.
The woman hardly ever took it off. I could have sworn I’d heard her and Teresa talking about how it was time for her to take it to get the clasp fixed last week.
Looks like she hadn’t. Not that I blamed her.
We hardly had any time off. A lot of us juggled side hustles or a second or even third job.
The elevator doors opened, and I left the cleaning cart to the side and hurried to get to the club.
Me: Any chance you remember where on the second floor you were?
I hit Send and started at the kitchen of the members-only restaurant.
It was busy with the kitchen staff prepping things for the dishes the chef would be offering later that night.
The air smelled delicious, and my stomach growled as I walked around while glancing at the ground.
A couple of the people I knew waved, and I smiled at them as I hurried, when I got another text from my boss.
Mary: By the back booths of the club maybe? Kim hadn’t cleaned under the tables, and I had to show her how she needed to clean.
Show her. Kim was lazy and needed to be fired.
I could bet money that Mary had done it for her and probably exerted her so much her blood sugar went bonkers.
I stepped inside. The place was still well lit and, curiously enough, empty.
Usually, there was at least one person in there.
Whether it was a dancer who had arrived early for her shift or bartender getting things set up for the night or security guard walking around.
The place was pretty all well lit, all the décor in blacks and reds.
I could only imagine what it was like when the doors opened for the elite members who visited Elysium.
I’d never been when it was open. I rushed to the back area of the club, closer to the VIP area.
There were about four high-backed booths I had to check.
Thankfully, I found it at the second one I checked.
Right on the ground was Mary’s necklace.
I bent and picked it up, smiling at the pretty, intricately-made cross before slipping it into the front pocket of my uniform.
“What do you have there, spitfire?” Griffin’s deep voice cut through the silence. I jumped.
“Why do you like to jump-scare me?” I growled. Griffin sauntered over, and I looked around. Suddenly, I wasn’t so glad the club was all empty. Not that I thought Griffin would do something I didn’t specifically ask for.
And even then, probably not.
“What did you just put in your pocket, spitfire?” Why did I like that nickname so much? I really had to get my head checked! Nicknames were dangerous. Especially from men who looked like Griffin. Nope. Just nicknames from Griff. Or better yet, from Daddy.
“It’s Marty, in case you forgot my name already after two days,” I muttered.
“It’s been three,” he corrected. My lips twitched as something inside of me celebrated with glee that he remembered.
“I see someone’s been counting.” I smirked. “Miss me?” I grinned, making it obvious as I checked him out.
There was no way to hide the way my body reacted to him.
My nipples pebbled beneath my plain black cotton bra.
Thankfully, the uniform was made of thick, almost itchy material, and I doubted he could see the evidence of my arousal.
He neared, and when he was within reach, my breath hitched.
I wanted him to reach out and grab me. Pull me into his strong body and talk to me.
Shit, he could read the damn encyclopedia, for all I cared.
But he didn’t.
He simply leaned his large frame against the booth as his gaze locked with mine.
“What did you slip into your pocket, Martina?” Martina. That had me standing a little straighter.
“That’s none of your business.” I had no idea why I felt the need to goad him, but it was like I couldn’t stop. Like being around Griffin brought out this bratty side that needed to be put in her place by her daddy.
Daddy. There was that damn word again.
“Show me,” he ordered, and that’s when I noticed it. The serious edge to his voice. The firm grip he had on the table’s edge behind him.
“Wait, are you serious right now?”
“Dead-ass serious,” he muttered. “I had a member say something was stolen.”
“Excuse me?” My hands fell to my sides as I tried to process what he was trying to insinuate.
“Did you take something you shouldn’t have, little girl?” I swallowed. Hard. Did you take something you shouldn’t have, little girl? The roughness in his voice made my skin break out into goose bumps while his words ping-ponged in my head.
Griffin pushed his body off the table and slowly started to walk and didn’t stop until he stopped right in front of me.
I wasn’t caged by his body exactly, but it felt like my feet were nailed to the ground as his scent assaulted all my senses.
Filled my lungs to the brim and made my head swim with unadulterated lust. If that wasn’t enough to make my panties combust, his body heat radiated off him in waves. Hot and calming.
“What’s in your pocket, spitfire?”
“Nothing.” My voice sounded breathy in my own ears. Why didn’t I just tell him it’s Mary’s necklace?
“Nothing, huh? I saw you pick something up and slip into your pocket.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Hmm…weird. A member, a very exclusive private member, lost something in here. That’s the call I had to take.”
“And? You think I took it?” His hand rose between us, and without hesitation, the tips of his fingers tucked a stray hair behind my ear. All without actually touching my skin. Heat washed through me as my thighs started to tremble.
“Do you know what happens to bad girls who take things that don’t belong to them?” Oh shit. My chest rose and fell. Heavier. Quicker. “Are you a good girl or a naughty one, Marty?”
“Griffin—“
“Uh-uh, spitfire. That’s not what you called me three nights ago, baby girl.” My breaths shallowed, and the room started to spin. Daddy. Was he asking me to call him Daddy?!
I couldn’t read him.
I wasn’t sure if he was messing with me or actually about to threaten my job.
Shit.