Chapter 11 Alison
ALISON
What the fuck? I just stood there, staring like an idiot, as my brain struggled to process him, here.
“She’s with you?” The barrel of Amvrosy’s gun wavered. “She wasn’t with you when you arrived.”
And suddenly I realized why Amvrosy was here during the day, why he had a bodyguard watching the door upstairs, and why the bartender had been twitchy.
The Aristovs must own this place: they must have hung onto it when they left New York.
Amvrosy ran it for them, and today the big boss had shown up, probably at short notice. No wonder everyone was on edge.
Gennadiy’s eyes ran over me. “I met her this morning. She works in the coffee shop down the street. I told her she was pretty and that she should audition here.”
I tried to keep my face neutral. Inside, my mind was whirling. Is he...saving me?!
Amvrosy frowned doubtfully...then, to my relief, he lowered his gun. “She’s pretty enough,” he said, as if I wasn’t standing right there, “But she doesn’t have much in the way of tits.”
Gennadiy stormed forward, forcing Amvrosy back against the wall and making him gulp in fear. “Some men like small breasts!” Gennadiy snapped.
An unexpected bomb of warmth went off in my chest. Then Gennadiy looked at me, and I drew in my breath: the anger in his eyes, coupled with the sheer imposing size of him, was terrifying. Suddenly, stealing his money didn’t seem so smart.
Amvrosy extricated himself from between Gennadiy and the wall and turned to me. “You shouldn’t have gone in there,” he told me, pointing at the office. “Why were you taking a picture?”
I looked at my toes. “I was looking for the bathroom. I went in there by mistake, and then I saw the club’s phone number on a bill, and I realized I didn’t have it, so I thought I’d just take a quick photo.
” I tried to sound scared, which didn’t take much acting: Amvrosy still had the gun.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t know I was doing anything wrong. ”
Amvrosy stared at me for a moment, then grunted and finally holstered his gun. “Fine,” he told me. “You want to audition, you can audition.” He grabbed my wrist and pulled me towards him, his voice roughening with lust. “You can give me a lap dance.”
What?! Oh crap. He pulled me towards one of the VIP booths, and I stumbled after him, off balance in my ridiculous heels.
A big, tattooed hand smacked into the wall right in front of Amvrosy’s face. Amvrosy froze, looked at the arm that blocked his way, then followed it up to Gennadiy’s face.
“I own the place,” Gennadiy reminded him. “I found her. She can dance for me.”