Chapter 16
Chapter Sixteen
I can’t believe Maryanne gave you her pit. She shouldn’t have done that, you know.” Amber’s giant hoop earrings wave like a finger with her words.
My body hurts and I’m confused as hell about Lewis, our kiss, and what it all means. The last thing I need is Amber nagging me.
I slam my tray on the counter, startling the bartender. “Well, she did. Get over it.”
Amber looks at me askance like she’s seeing a stranger. The insanity that turned off my filters at the cascades hasn’t abated. It’s contaminating my every conversation.
Drake walks up the steps to the lounge, his gaze flickering between Amber and me. Amber ducks away and I’m left standing there, trapped in the icy depths of his gray eyes.
I hate that my instinct is to lock up around men who have hurt me. It’s what I did when the A-hole showed up, and it’s what I’m doing all over again with Drake.
Anger burns my chest, stealing my breath. I grab my tray, arms stiff, and return to my customers, tracking Drake as I do.
He doesn’t approach me. He chats up a group at the front of the lounge, then saunters to the floor, exchanging a few words with one of the pit bosses.
The tension in my limbs eases somewhat, though not entirely.
He may have come to talk to customers, but the confidence he exudes speaks volumes.
The way Amber scurried off, the way I went still like a deer caught in the headlights of an oncoming car—Drake is in control here.
He walks past the lounge, almost out of sight, when I catch him hooking his arm around a waitress on her way to the floor. He tugs her into the elevator alcove and they disappear from view.
I count to twenty, then fifty. The girl doesn’t return.
My feet move before my head wraps around the notion that I’m going after Drake and the pretty, young waitress I’ve never seen before.
I round the corner and Drake has the woman plastered to a wall.
He’s gripping her arm and leaning down, talking into her ear.
She smiles a tight smile and tries to inch around him. He steps to the side, blocking her.
“Mr. Peterson.” My voice comes out strong, determined.
I feel the opposite. I’m wondering what the hell I’m doing. The temper I’ve kept bottled is coming out everywhere, and in full force.
Drake lifts his head. He doesn’t look back. He releases the girl and she slips past him, glancing apprehensively my way as she passes.
“Did you miss me, Genevieve?” Drake turns slowly.
“Not particularly. Do you like touching women who don’t want you?”
His face reddens, lips compressing. “Funny, I see you’ve returned for more.” He doesn’t move, and I make sure to stay away from his hidey nook. There’s a black orb nearby, but it’s blocked by a palm.
“I’m going to tell management.” Am I trying to get him to attack me? Obviously, I haven’t thought this rescue thing through.
I take a step back, but my stupid words trigger Drake into action. He stalks me and I take another step and another. My shoulder bumps the palm in front of the surveillance camera. Drake grabs the side of my neck painfully, dragging me into the shadowed corner I avoided.
“Let go of me.” I’m scared, but not mentally frozen for once. I can’t say I’m making intelligent decisions though. Friggin’ mouth! Why didn’t I leave with the girl?
I don’t know what sparked my sudden bravery. Maybe a buildup of humiliating encounters since I arrived in this town, my frustrating feelings for Lewis, all of which may have pushed me from passive to not-taking-it-anymore.
Drake’s fingers dig into my flesh, a reminder of how much physically stronger he is. A whimper escapes my mouth at the pain, not the threat.
“I saw you one night after work.” His eyes travel my body. “At the club.” He gives me a shove and I trip a few steps until I’m as isolated as the other girl was. “I meant to find you, but—I got distracted.”
He’s talking about the night he tried to force himself on Cali? He was looking for me?
My heart races. I glance over his shoulder, but the elevators are empty. Where the hell is everyone? My bravery has its limits. I’d like to remain alive, and the waves of hostility rolling off Drake are not good.
“I enjoy watching you move around the casino, talking to your short little friend, Nessa. She’s not my type.
The tall ones put up a better fight. Not you, though, you frighten easily.
But now…” He breathes in, his nostrils flaring, before his gaze steadies.
“I like the new spunk.” He strokes my arm with the hand that isn’t holding me in place, grazing the side of my breast. I barely feel his touch through the wired bustier, but the insinuation has my throat burning with revulsion.
I straighten. When I’m not cowering, I’m as tall as Drake in heels, though he’s much wider, stronger—I’m not going to think about that. “Let go of me before…”
His eyes widen and he licks his lips. “Before?” He places his hand on my hip, and that’s it.
I lean in, smelling his expensive cologne and sour breath. “Before I knee your balls into your throat.”
Drake smiles, but he releases me and steps back. I’m breathing heavily, panting really. He walks away and points two fingers at his eyes, then the black surveillance orb. “I’ll be watching. Looking forward to our next time alone.”
I threatened to tell management and he’s as concerned as a bear swatting a fly. Why does he believe he can get away with this?
Mason nods as I pass the East Bar to Maryanne’s pit, a concerned look on his face. I ignore him and touch Maryanne’s shoulder to get her attention.
She spins around, her overprocessed dark hair not moving with the motion. “What’s up?”
I swallow, but no words come out.
“Yes?” she says, annoyed.
“Will you watch my station?” I finally manage. “I—I have to file a sexual harassment claim.”
Maryanne didn’t bat an eye when I told her where I was going. She nodded once and said, “You got it.”
Mr. Breadon, the director of human resources, also didn’t bat an eye, which worries me. He handed me a sheet to fill out, then filed it away and told me to take the evening off. He said he’d contact me after he looked into the matter.
There was something so casual about Mr. Breadon’s attitude. I have this awful sense he only said he’d investigate to put my mind at ease. And if management really doesn’t care what Drake does, then Lewis was right: It’s not safe to work at Blue.
I park my car and walk up the drive to the chalet—and spot an enormous tent the length of our patio peeking above the fence around our backyard.
What the hell? I walk inside and set my purse on the couch, then cross the room to the open backyard door. “Cali?”
“Over here.” Her head emerges from the tent.
“What’s going on?” I lean against the doorframe, studying her.
“Oh, well, you see—Jaeger’s gonna stay with us for a bit.”
“He’s living with us…along with your brother?”
She raises her shoulders sheepishly. “Yes?”
I’ve never lived with a guy before, not even one of my mom’s boyfriends. Mom was smart enough to make their visits temporary. Now I’m living with two?
I scratch my forehead. “Is he sleeping in that?”
Cali pats the side of the tent. The industrial material doesn’t quiver. “Yeah, isn’t it awesome? I’ll be in here with him, so you’ll have the room to yourself.”
Cali and I have shared the single bedroom all summer. The chalet has an extra bed in the loft above the kitchen, but the ladder is a death trap. We stuck Tyler up there.
Jaeger pops his head out of his new bedroom and greets me before moving on to manly pursuits, like setting up a battery-operated lantern and hammering in a two-foot tent post with the heel of his giant boot.
“Okay, well, enjoy. I’m going inside.”
Cali gives me an openmouthed smile. “Oh, we will.”
Did not need to hear that. I owe Jaeger for setting up their love nest outside.
I slump on the couch and stare at my phone.
Tyler’s out and Cali’s occupied. She didn’t wonder at my early return, which goes to show how distractedly happy she is in her new relationship.
I’m not sure why Jaeger is living on our patio.
I imagine it has something to do with his ex-girlfriend.
At least he and Cali are holding strong.
Whatever’s up with his ex, it hasn’t pulled them apart.
I’ll wait until we’re alone to tell Cali about Drake and my visit with management.
I pull up Nessa’s contact and type a text.
Gen: What are you up to? Didn’t see you at work and they sent me home early. Want to get together?
I’m heating up a frozen burrito—or three—when my phone buzzes.
Nessa: Come to the party!!! Timber Boathouse. DJ, free alcohol!! It’s a friend of a friend’s twenty-fifth.
That’s a lot of exclamation points. I’m thinking Nessa already tapped into several of those free drinks. Not sure I’m up for a party, but it’s better than sitting at home by myself. Cali’s too busy with Jaeger to hang out.
Gen: Okay, but where the hell is the Timber Boathouse??
She sends me convoluted directions I’m hoping will make sense once I get there. My phone buzzes with another text.
Nessa: Dress up. It’s cocktail formal.
Dress up I can do. My wannabe French mother instilled a sense of formality in me from an early age.
I keep cocktail dresses on hand—mainly because my mom shows up wherever I am and drags me to the fanciest restaurants in town.
It’s a survival tactic. Bring a dress, or be severely underdressed and embarrassed.
“You’re wearing that?” Cali says with an approving smile as I step out to say goodbye. “Hot, girl, very hot. You get ’em.”
I glance down at my dress. It is a bit daring. Drake is a complete psycho, but I didn’t let him intimidate me. Standing up to him felt good tonight, and I guess the confidence shows.
A whistle comes from behind. Tyler shuts the front door and scans my outfit. “Nice. Why so dressed—” His eyes catch on the tent visible through the living room window. “What the fuck is that?”
“That is Cali and Jaeger’s love nest.”
“What? Why?”
“I’d rather not know what they’re going to be doing with it. I’m taking off.”
His jaw clenches, a shiver jolting his body. “Think I’ll leave too.”
“Pretty sure the party I’m going to welcomes outsiders. Nessa will be there.” I raise my eyebrows.
“Nessa?” Tyler glances at my black cocktail dress and frowns. “Do I have to dress up? I didn’t bring a suit.”
“Did you bring anything besides jeans and ratty T-shirts?”
He peers out the window and cringes. “I’ll find something. Give me five.”