Chapter 21
Well…that happened.
There was no way in hell Remy, or I could've prepared for the unexpected appearance of his family, but honestly—I'm glad it happened. It could've been awkward. Weird. Uncomfortable for everyone involved.
Instead, it went surprisingly well.
Despite what people assumed about my profession, I'm a great fucking person.
Kind. Patient. Loyal. Loving. And Remy knew that.
I had a feeling his family would too. At least, once they got to know me.
And if things between us kept heading in this direction, I was looking forward to giving them the chance.
Besides, after seeing that sweet baby boy and those dimples—oh my God.
I could already picture myself hand-in-hand with him.
Taking him to the park. Helping him with homework.
Cooking. All that domestic shit that I had always wanted internally but pushed to the back.
But now, being around Remy and meeting his family—the desires were pushing themselves closer to the surface.
Way closer than I expected and at a rate that scared me.
There was a lot to step into. The loss of a wife and mother.
A motherless little boy. A grieving father.
And me…a fiercely independent woman whose never been around kids longer than a few hours.
I would be expected to take on the role of an innocent's child's mother.
Could I do it? And if I did—would I eventually miss the freedom I had?
I would like to think that love would carry me, but I wasn't na?ve enough to believe that it would be enough. I would be stepping into trauma. Bone deep, and if I didn't handle this carefully, I would wind up hurting them both all over again.
I sat in the lounge area with my legs crossed as I waited for my client.
One of my regulars. A banker with an appetite for being praised.
He always wanted me to call out his name and tell him how big he was.
The dick size was average at best, but I would holler out whatever he wanted for the right price.
My alarm buzzed alerting me of the ten-minute mark before arrival. I quickly stood and made my way back to my suite to make sure I looked perfect. I reapplied my liner and gloss which I had licked off in my thinking. Smoothing down the short, leather dress I was wearing, I fluffed out my curls.
Head tilted, I looked at myself in the mirror for a moment. Things were about to change quickly and I could feel it. I just prayed that I would be prepared for whatever new course my life took me on.
With a final sigh, I walked out of the room, black stiletto heels clicking on the polished hardwood floors as I made my downstairs slowly. Hands gliding down the railing carefully, because these were new heels and I was just breaking them in.
As I hit the landing, I noticed Monroe. That wasn’t what made me pause. It was the expression on her face as she spoke. Whoever she was speaking to was hidden by the pillar. A weird feeling churned in my gut and I slowly walked closer.
My eyes widened when I saw that this bitch was talking to my client.
My footsteps drew their attention—they both turned to me.
Monroe's calculating eyes raked over me, a smirk on her face.
My client was blinking rapidly as he swallowed deeply, his finger gliding under his dress shirt and adjusting it in discomfort.
"Dylan—hi." I walked over, eyes flicking to them both in confusion. "I hope I haven't kept you waiting long. I just wanted to freshen up a bit." I focused my full attention to him with a smile.
Dylan cleared his throat, eyes moving away from mine. "No. I just walked in actually."
What the fuck did she say to him?
I stepped closer.
He stepped back.
My eyes shifted to Monroe. She gave me a slick smile.
"Actually, Gianna—I think I'm going to head out. Something came up. Take care." He threw up his hand in a good-bye, and without giving me a chance to respond, he hurried out.
Monroe laughed. "Damn, Gianna, he ran out of here like you had the plague." She looked me up and down. "Guess that new car smell is wearing off, huh?"
She pivoted to walk away. I grabbed her by her arm, snatching her back. Her eyes widened in surprise.
"What the fuck did you say to him?" I demanded between clenched teeth.
She snatched her arm away. "Don't you ever put your fucking hands on me," she snapped.
"I'ma put my fist down your throat in a minute, bitch, if you don't tell me what you said," I countered voice rising.
"Bitch—!"
Monroe looked like she was about to get buck. I slid off my heels preparing to drag this bitch out the door, when one the security guards—Zay—strode down hearing our raised voices. He immediately got in between us. "Y'all know better. We don’t do no fighting in here."
"It's gon' be a murder in this bitch in a minute if this ho keeps playing with my money!" I fired back.
"It absolutely the hell won't be." We all turned at the sound of Madam's voice as she walked towards us, her face set in displeasure. "I know I'm not seeing two of my best girls creating a ruckus in my house, am I?"
"You see how she acts, Madam? A typical hoodrat." Monroe huffed pointing towards me, feigning innocence.
"This hoodrat 'bout to give you a hood ass whooping!" I attempted to sidestep Zay, but he held me back easily.
At this point, some of the other girls and clients who were waiting had heard the noise and were congregating in the hallways. I didn’t care. I was so sick and tired of this jealous bitch. She could make all the snide remarks she wanted, but when it came to fucking up my bag we had a problem.
"Zay, take her to my office now," Madam stated sharply.
Zay basically picked me up and carried me to Madam's office. He plopped me down on the chair in front of her desk. "Stay," he pointed.
I slapped his finger out of my face. "I'm not a fucking dog," I snapped.
Muttering under his breath and shaking his head, he walked out closing the door behind him.
I sat there, chest rising and falling, heat still crawling under my skin as I tried to calm down. My fingers tapped against my thigh, restless.
A few minutes later, the door opened again and Madam strode in. She didn’t say anything at first, just took a seat behind her desk and looked at me. That same sharp, assessing gaze that made grown men straighten up and women second guess themselves.
I held it. I wasn’t about to fold.
Finally, she leaned back slowly in her chair, folding her hands neatly on top of her desk.
“Tell me what happened?” she said calmly.
I let out a breath through my nose. “She interfered with my client.”
Madam’s brow lifted slightly. “Interfered how?”
“She was talking to him before I got downstairs,” I replied, my tone tight. “Next thing I know, he’s backing away from me like I got a disease and running out the door.”
Madam’s eyes narrowed. “And you’re sure that’s what happened?”
“Yes,” I said firmly. “I’m not guessing. I saw it.”
She tapped her finger lightly against the desk, thinking. There was a soft knock at the door. Monroe stepped in. I rolled my eyes, my temper spiking again.
“Madam,” she said sweetly, closing the door behind her. “I just wanted to clear up whatever confusion there might be.”
I sucked my teeth, leaning back in my chair. “There's no confusion. You know what you did.”
Monroe ignored me completely. “I was simply making conversation,” she continued smoothly. “He approached me first. I didn’t realize he was Gianna’s client. Then she saw us and she got all bent out of shape. I said nothing derogatory.”
She was a bald-headed ass liar. She didn’t even blink when she said it. I cut my eyes at her, my jaw tightening. “You’re full of shit.”
“Gianna,” Madam said sharply.
I leaned back again, forcing myself to be still.
Monroe gave me a small, satisfied glance before turning back to Madam. “I would never intentionally disrupt business,” she said. “You know that.”
Madam’s eyes moved between us—weighing. “Whether intentional or not,” she said slowly, “a client left my establishment unsatisfied. That's a problem.”
Monroe’s smile didn’t falter, but I saw the slight shift in her shoulders. “I understand,” she said.
Madam’s gaze moved to me. “And you,” she continued. “Losing your composure in front of clients is also a problem.”
I exhaled sharply but didn’t argue.
“I don’t tolerate chaos in my house,” Madam went on. “It disrupts the experience. And the experience is what we sell.”
“Yes, Madam,” we both said.
She leaned forward slightly, her tone lowering. “If there is tension between my girls, it will be handled professionally. Not like…this.” Her eyes flicked to me briefly, then to Monroe. “Do you both understand?”
“I do,” Monroe said.
“…Yeah,” I muttered.
Madam sat back again, satisfied. “Good.” There was a pause. “And Monroe?”
“Yes, Madam?”
Madam’s voice was still calm, but there a sharpness in her tone “You're one of my top earners. I expect you to move accordingly. You don’t need to concern yourself with what the new girls are doing.”
Monroe’s smile tightened. “Of course,” she said.
Madam nodded once, then looked at me. “And Gianna…your reputation is your currency here. Protect it.”
I exhaled slowly and nodded. "I understand, Madam."
“Wonderful" she nodded once. "Gianna, I will reach out to your client and smooth over anything,” Madam said. She turned her eyes back to Monroe. "Monroe, if he tells me anything adverse…you and I will need to have a serious conversation about policy."
A quick look of worry crossed Monroe's features, but she quickly smoothed it over. She turned first, heading for the door. But right before she stepped out, she glanced back at me and smiled—calculated. The door closed behind her.
I sat there for a second, that same uneasy feeling settling in my gut again.
Madam watched me. “Next time, come to me. That's what I'm here for.” she said after a moment.
"I will." I nodded slowly, standing.
As I walked toward the door, her voice stopped me. “Gianna.” I turned back.
She studied me for a moment. “Be mindful,” she said. “Attention—good or bad—spreads quickly in environments like this.”
I held her gaze. “I hear you.”
“I'll follow up," she added.
I nodded once and stepped out. As I made my way back down the hallway, heels clicking against the floor, one thought sat loud in my head—that bitch was plotting on my downfall. This wasn’t over. Not even close.