7. Colton #2
“Do you know what Marcus said to him, or if he was in trouble for it?” James asks.
Seeing as he was sidelined for his performance, I want to say yes.
But I think that was because of his lack of commitment to the rest of the team and his inability to show up for rehearsals on time, less about that particular fight.
“I didn’t hear the conversation, Marcus pulled him into his office for the lashings,” I tell him, bringing my arm back and forward quickly, making a whip sound to accompany the motion.
James’ eyes go comically wide, probably imagining Cirque as the type of seedy place that truly would dole out physical punishments. Despite me being in this position because of him, he wasn’t exactly keen on me taking the job when the time came.
“Hope he used the big cane,” I say lifting my hand to hide my grin behind my palm as James’ face pales.
“Jesus, calm down I’m kidding. He probably just yelled at him.
A solid lecture and honestly, he probably asked him what was going on, knowing Marcus.
One of the girls, actually the only one who talks to me, told me he’s been a starring role since he started, so whatever has been going on with him, its relatively new. At least for affecting his work life.”
“What do you think it is?” Now the amusement is completely gone from the conversation. I can see James regretting his involvement in me working for Cirque.
“Honestly, he looked like he was on something. Some kind of upper maybe? He was keyed up and ready to fight.”
“I mean, who is surprised by that?” he scoffs. “Mathers is as shady as they come. Those private rooms sound like a haven for blow and ecstasy, and God knows what else.”
I feel my body involuntarily stiffen at the words associated with Harper.
“I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right. When I first started, they made me do a drug test, and I had to sign paperwork acknowledging that if I was caught with anything like that on the premises, it was grounds for immediate dismissal.”
“Well, yeah, obviously. It’s not like she is going to advertise bring your own blow on the starting paperwork. The club’s entire reputation is based on discretion. I’m sure everyone there knows how to keep a secret.” He gives me a pointed look that screams duh.
“Too bad your ugly mug is scaring them all off, or you could probably get all the juicy details from one of the dancers,” he quips, trying to bring some levity back to the conversation. But now my hackles are raised, and I don’t want to let it go.
“I still think he could be a one off,” I say, trying my best to take the edge out of my tone.
I can’t even really blame him for the way he views the club, its patrons and its owners.
There is nothing about Cirque that screams innocence, a reputation for seduction, fantasy and impropriety, with Harper standing center stage.
I can’t help the tiny part of me that wonders if Marcus told her about the altercation that day.
Even worse, did she care? If it were as strict a rule as they made it seem when I started, she would have fired him if she knew, right?
And yet, he was there the next day for rehearsals in his new role as runner-up.
I can’t be the only one who noticed the sweat pouring off him, or the way he paced the stage like a caged beast.
“Yeah, he might be,” James tilts his head side to side in contemplation. “Or he’s just the only one dumb enough to make it obvious. I bet jewelry isn’t the only thing getting passed back and forth in that private room. Mathers is dirty, not stupid.”
I feel an overwhelming urge to hit him, his words causing the first tendrils of doubt to burrow their way into my rose-colored portrait of Harper.
The bigger problem is that despite my better judgement, and lack of any evidence to the contrary, I don’t believe his judgement of the club. Or of Harper. I don’t want to.
It’s not like I’ve gotten really close with any of the workers yet, other than Fallon, who would testify that his accusations and assumptions are baseless.
But the way that even Hannah spoke about Harper, it didn’t come from a place of fear or obligation.
She was offended that I would think something negatively about the way Harper treats her team.
You don’t get that by being feared; you get that from being respected.
I sit quietly, no longer following the path of James’ rant, as I contemplate what I know about Harper Mathers, and the much bigger side of that scale, what I don’t know.
James eventually sees that I’ve lost interest in the bashing of my boss and changes the topic to sports and my family. When he leaves, I pull open my laptop and spend the rest of the night scouring the internet to find anything I can on Harper Mathers.
I’ll use the excuse that it’s because I want to show James that his belief is wrong and prove my employer isn’t the villain he makes her out to be.
To prove a point that he has nothing to worry about me working there.
That I’m not putting myself in unnecessary danger by accepting a job much closer to the boss.
And what a pretty lie to tell myself. That this isn’t for me. That this isn’t simply because I want to know more about her. That being in her presence hasn’t awakened something in me that I can’t seem to shake.
I scroll through article after article about Cirque’s opening and the mysterious circumstances around its owners.
Page after page of useless information, trying my best to catalog any detail that might mean something.
I sift through the information I already know—that she’s a co-owner with a silent partner, and that her sister’s company works for the club in private security.
She’s my boss, but she’s also what I crave, what I can’t seem to get out of my head. I know what she is, and what I want her to be.
Mine.