Chapter 3
Chloe
Suffocation strangles my throat and I breathe through my nose, doing my best not to give away my anxiety. Seconds tick by as Devereaux studies me, like he’s debating whether he should entertain the idea of hiring me or tossing me out the door on my ass.
I handled myself just fine with the twins. So, I stand taller, proud that I passed his unexpected test.
I passed, right?
He’s so intimidating, dressed in a black three-piece suit, which I’m sure is top-dollar. Probably Armani or something equally expensive. Whatever his designer choice, he’s a striking figure, exuding wealth from his tailored threads. But I have to admit, it may not be the clothing, as much as the man wearing it. I’m certain God himself couldn’t pull off a suit as good as Devereaux Huxley.
He wears nothing particularly flashy, yet he emanates power. From the set of his chiseled jaw to the perfect planes of his face, every part of this man screams mega-multi-bajillionaire.
The quiet of the room smothers me.
Taking a tentative step closer, hating the loudness of my heels against his tiled floor, I attempt to continue the role play. “What can I get you to drink?” It comes out squeaky—timid—and I close my eyes for just a second to gain some composure.
“Unbutton your shirt,” is his answer.
Although my heart is racing, I give him a playful grin. “My breasts aren’t on the drink menu.”
That response agitates him, and he tugs at his tie. “You’re too chaste. The customers expect more.”
“I’m not chaste.” To affirm my lie, I reach up to release three buttons on my shirt, exposing the swell of my cleavage. “There’s a lot to be said for mystery. It’s like setting an unwrapped present under the tree when everything is hanging out.”
“Very true,” he murmurs before his eyes drop to my breasts, traveling across the slopes. “Why do you want to work here?” Devereaux asks, his husky voice warming my ears as he stalks around me and takes a seat behind his desk.
Before my interview, I studied my fake backstory Katherine provided relentlessly. I know it inside and out. But right now, as I’m trying to survive the weight of Devereaux’s stare, everything I’ve memorized and rehearsed evaporates into thin air.
Katherine told me to pretend I have a boyfriend, so if anyone asks me to do things that go too far, I can use him as an excuse. I have his back story memorized too, but at this moment, I can’t even tell you his darn name.
Since this interview went off the rails and he’s forgoing proper introductions, I take the seat across from his desk and cross my legs, so I don’t jump out one of the tall windows fawning over the city lights.Thankfully, the words Adler had me rehearse fall from my lips with ease. “I’m beyond broke.” Kind of not a lie.
Rather than ask a follow up question, he clicks his tongue and picks up his phone. While he scrolls through it, I take a moment to scan his office, looking for clues about the suspect who lacks interview skills. It’s sleek and clutter-free, designed to make a person feel comfortable but also let them know he’s a sophisticated man with no time for distractions. There’s a pool table near the back, and a punching bag hanging next to an en suite bathroom. This place is bigger than my house. The dark woods and sumptuous burgundies give off a masculine vibe, but it’s the built-in bookshelves on my right that offer a hint to a softer side.
Blown-glass objects decorate the shelves instead of books. The numerous pieces are quite interesting. A giant orange fish with blown bubbles percolating through his body. A large spruce with a tiny yellow flower sprouting from its side. The largest piece is a graceful white swan. I study the delicate figurine until Devereaux clears his throat and sets his phone down.
“Why should I hire you?”
Before he can say anything more, I launch into my made-up life like I’m reciting a monologue at the county theater. “I was born and raised a few towns over. In Hanover. Have you ever been there? Well, anyway, my boyfriend and I moved to Saint Pierce recently. He suggested I serve drinks here. Figured you guys were looking for help.”
Devereaux’s eyes watch me with an emotion I can’t quite decipher. Disgust? Annoyance? Anger?
“Boyfriend?”
“Yes, Tanner Holmes. We’ve been dating for over six months.”
Devereaux leans back in his leather chair, bringing his hands together in a slow, sarcastic clap. His eyes burn into mine as he mocks me. “Well, congratulations. I’m so proud of you. You found yourself a little dick to play with.”
My chin jerks back at his intentional rudeness. Little? I feel my face warm in irritation but resist blowing this interview by defending my fake boyfriend, even though I wish I could snap at him and tell him Tanner’s a great guy. Instead, I chew the inside of my lip and challenge his encompassing stare with my own.
He leans forward, resting his arms on his desk, his palms lying flat. “I have one rule for my girls.”
“What’s that?”I ask hesitantly.
“No boyfriends.”
I know I should agree and just say, Yes, sir . The Captain, hell, the whole damn precinct, is counting on me to land this job so I can gather the needed intel on Huxley to bring him down, but his arrogance gets under my skin.
“You can’t tell me who I can date,”I snap, wanting to stand up for my fake boyfriend and our fictitious relationship.
He laughs, the rich sound melting my bones like butter. “Can’t I?”he counters.
I open my mouth to speak but close it just as quickly so I can regain control. This haughty man pulls out a rebellious side of me, and I switch gears. I think back to the news coverage of Suzie Parks’ boyfriend crying into the camera when they discovered her body.
He’s fucking with me.
The question is why is this man toying with me, thinking he can play this wicked game of controlling who I date? There’s a gleam in his eye, waiting for my response. My gut tells me he’s used to people cowering, and if I want to stand out from the crowd, I need to give him the opposite reaction.
“No, Mr. Huxley, you cannot. Tanner’s a good man. He loves me. You can’t tell me every woman who works here doesn’t have a boyfriend.” I jut my chin out. “I will not break up with him.”
It’s almost undetectable, but a muscle twitches in his jaw. Devereaux stares at me for a long moment, and the silence claws at my skin. Murderer aside, he’s so irritating.
“When I said no boyfriends, I meant no boyfriends in my club. I don’t need any relationship drama here.”He leans back in his seat. “I’ve already had it happen. One of the girls working here had a boyfriend who barged into my club and made a huge scene.”
“Oh.” Well, hell. It’s a rather good rule, jealous boyfriends and all.
“They’re no longer together, nevertheless, the rule remains.” He steeples his hands on the desk. “Now that we have that settled. I’ll let you know how this works.”
“Yes, please do.”
His imposing presence envelops the room as he stands and walks around his desk. I’m sure it’s a power move since his tall body forces me to look up at him. It’s impossible not to explore his impressive physique. Broad shoulders taper down to a trim waist. His thighs are thick, and I swallow as I stare at the larger-than-life bulge behind the zipper of his pants.
My eyes snap up to meet his intense stare.
“When you’re in my club, there’ll be no boyfriends. Not even your precious Tanner.”
Prick.But he’s hiring me and I reign in the giddiness flowing through my system.
“There’s a hierarchy, a stepladder,” he says, changing the subject back to my job expectations versus my personal life. “You’ll start by serving cocktails on the main floor. Once you’ve gotten the hang of things and I feel you can handle it, you can dance in the private rooms. If you want to move up, that is. If you master entertaining clients in the private rooms and want to keep climbing the corporate ladder, you can become a VIP girl. They’re called Greedy Girls.”
As he says the words, I wonder if he provides tutelage in “mastering” entertaining the clients. He’s most likely slept with some girls who work here. I mean, this man must get whatever woman he wants. They must beg to be mauled by him.
There’s probably a long line of them outside his office door.
I swallow, trying to form my next question. “Do the Greedy Girls, uh, go all the way?”
His eyes quickly reconnect to mine. “Is that what you’re looking to do?”
I shrug my shoulders, trying to look aloof instead of the jittery mess I’m hiding inside. It’s essential I become integral in this club so I can get to know all the members. The farther up this ladder I go, the more information I’ll gain access to. “If it pays well enough,”I answer, hoping it sounds sincere and praying it doesn’t come down to that.
An expression I can’t fully define flickers across his face. Like he’s angry at my choice. Or disgusted. Or who knows, I might have just become his next victim, and the idea excites him.
“And Tanner wouldn’t be jealous?”
I stare into Devereaux’s eyes as he waits for my answer. “I really need the money.”
He turns away from me and pushes a button on the landline phone on his desk. “Adele,” he barks out. Moments later, she appears. “Show our newest employee the ropes,” he says to her. “She’ll need a stage name.”
Adele nods. “Any name in particular, sir?”
Breathing is not an option when he steps close enough for the appealing scent of his woodsy cologne to intoxicate my nose with the smell of pine and danger. I feel tiny in the leather chair as he towers over me like I’m a weed in his garden, and he could pluck me out with no warning.
He studies me, his eyes trailing across my features, lingering on my lips before he runs a hand over his stubbled jaw. “Swan.”
In a flash, Adele ushers me out of his office, and I finally fill my lungs with oxygen as I follow her down the steps to the main floor.She leads me to the bar, where a group of very colorful girls stand.
Oh, my god. I start right now.
I glance at Adele. “Is what I’m wearing ok?”
She glances at my attire and nods. “It’ll do. You’ll only be taking a tour and getting a feel for the place.” She pauses for a moment. “Unless you want to stay and learn more?”
“Sign me up,” I trill, eager to start on this case.
“This is Ebony, Luna, and Foxxy,” she introduces.
Their pretty faces remain blank. In their defense, they probably meet many new employees who don’t cut it and are out the door before the night is through, so they learn not to get attached.
Or are they wondering why I’d take a job at a place where girls are ending up dead?
“Hi, I’m Swan.”
Foxxy, a curvy girl with red curls and bright blue eyes, sneers at me. “Cute. Where’d you pick that name? Kindergarten?”
Ah, it’s like Mean Girls, sex-club edition.
“Mr. Huxley gave it to me.”
Ebony and Luna exchange a glance and snicker under their breath.
“Pull your claws in, ladies,” Adele says. “We need girls to work or else you’ll be working every night with no days off.”
The bartender from earlier walks over, and I finally receive a welcoming greeting. “I’m Raven. If you need anything, let me know.” Her name suits her. She has short dark hair, and her eye makeup has perfectly styled eyeliner like I tried to accomplish earlier. I’m sure this girl didn’t need a YouTube tutorial.
“Thank you,” I say, returning her smile.
Adele assigns me to shadow Luna for a few hours and trots away, disappearing into the burgeoning crowd. The other girls become nicer and tolerate me, but as I learn the job from Luna, I don’t have a single opportunity to do any real investigating. I keep glancing at the red velvet rope that stops people from going up the grand staircase, waiting for Devereaux to come down and mingle.But he doesn’t.
In the next hour, on the main floor, I meet a few of the regulars, but nobody I recognize.
“This floor is for the members to get a drink or socialize before heading into the rooms,” Luna explains.She seems nice. Pretty too, with long light-brown hair and lime-green eyes a shade lighter than mine. She reminds me of Jennifer Lawrence, and I almost want to ask her where her bow is.
“Do you go into the rooms?”
She shakes her head, leaning closer like she’s about to share some major secret with me. “I make more money out here, besides I think my boyfriend might have issues with it.”
Now’s my chance to really gather some intel. “What happens in the rooms?”
“Anything you want, darling. Each room has a hostess. You get people in the room drinks and such, but if they ask you to join in, you can.” She winks. “For the right price, of course.”
“Did the girls who—” Before I can ask about the murders, Luna’s face grows stoic.
“We shouldn’t talk about them,” she says in a rush.
“Oh, sorry. I didn’t mean…” My words fall away because I’m not sure what I mean.
Luna’s eyes bounce around the club, looking for anyone who might have overheard. “It’s a real shame what happened to them, but I guess they kind of deserved it, ya know?”
Whoa, what?
“Deserved it, how?” From the corner of my eye, I spot Adele scowling at us.
Luna notices it too.
“I guess no one deserves to be murdered.” She leans closer. “But they weren’t playing by club rules.”
Adele moves across the club, beelining our way. I want to ask her what she means, but there’s no use in even opening my mouth because Adele steps between us.
“How’s she doing?” she asks Luna about me.
“She’s picking things up really well. I bet by this time tomorrow she can take her own section.”
Adele assesses me. “I’ll give you a list of the cocktails to take home and study.”
“Thank you.” I’d almost forgotten this is an actual job on top of my primary reason for being here.
“I was just about to go over the club rules with her,”Luna says.
Adele nods. “I’ll let you two get back to it. Swan, find me before you leave.”
“Sure thing.” As soon as she’s out of earshot, I ask Luna, “What are the rules?”
Abruptly, the energy shifts in the room, and I instinctively glance up the grand staircase. Devereaux stands at the top, his hands wrapped around the railing in front of him, looking down on us with a palpable intensity.He’s dominating. His eyes crash into mine and chills skate over my exposed skin as he just stands there, watching.
Assessing.
Judging.
Luna leans in closer, after noticing Devereaux above us. “Really, there’s only one rule.” Her eyes glance up at Devereaux. “Don’t fuck over the boss.”
His eyes never waver from mine and I let the words she’s spoken soak into my bones.
Being this drawn to him is wrong, but I can’t extinguish the heat that sizzles in my body with every glance.
But I need to keep this in check.
He’s sinful.
Gorgeous.
Deadly.