Chapter 6 #2
I almost choke on my whiskey as she collapses into laughter, quickly grabbing me a glass of water as I cough. “Jeez, sorry it wasn’t in my plans to kill you this evening,” she says, handing me a napkin.
“Violet, you better be joking,” I croak.
“Yeah, sorry to disappoint.” She winks. “Just PG stuff only in here.” She pops the notebook back and wanders off to serve another customer.
I glance over to where Monarch’s execs are seated, Elliot gesticulating with that smug grin of his, probably spinning his usual brand of smarm.
I know I should go over and start laying the groundwork, but my eyes keep straying back to Violet.
She moves behind the bar with an effortless rhythm, weaving between stations like she was born to do this, the hem of her skirt swishing against her thighs in a way that has me gripping my glass a little tighter.
She smiles at a customer, and I catch the flicker of dimples that—God help me—make it impossible to look away.
I tell myself I’m only observing, assessing, like I do with everything else, but the truth gnaws at the edges of my mind.
I’m watching her too much. And I don’t want to stop.
I barely register the approaching footsteps until a voice cuts through my thoughts.
“Chase,” says Richard Morgan, one of Monarch’s senior execs, clapping a hand on my shoulder like we’re old friends.
“Didn’t expect to see you here tonight.” His eyes flick toward Elliot, still holding court across the room.
“Hargreaves never takes a damn day off, does he?”
I offer a dry smile, swirling the whiskey in my glass. “The devil works hard, but Elliot Hargreaves works harder.”
Richard chuckles, nodding in agreement. “Listen, we’ve got an executive retreat next month—Monarch’s hosting it at a private estate upstate.
A mix of strategy sessions and some outdoor activities.
We’d love to have you there. Bring a few of your team along.
I hear your software folks are doing some interesting things with fraud detection. ”
I give a slow nod, weighing the opportunity. “Yes, they are.”
Richard grins. “Good. I’ll have my assistant send over the details. It’s a full weekend—networking, team challenges, the whole song and dance.”
I nod again, keeping my expression neutral. “Sounds like a plan.”
As Richard walks away, I take a slow sip of whiskey, a flicker of satisfaction settling in. I might have messed up hanging back here instead of making my way over to Monarch earlier, too caught up in Violet’s orbit—but in the end, I still got what I wanted. And that’s going to piss Elliot off.
I hang at the bar for a while, scowling at any man who tries to engage Violet.
I can tell it’s driving her crazy, but I’m past caring.
She zips from customer to customer, serving them with an infuriating smile.
I have to physically drag my gaze away as she moves around the bar, the micro mini accentuating her perfect round ass.
As it quietens down, I wave my empty glass at her, and she sashays over with a forced smile. I’m quite enjoying this little game of Violet having to do what she’s told.
“I’ll have the same again, Violet and let me buy you a drink.”
She seems momentarily taken aback, but she recovers quickly. “We can’t accept drinks from clients. It’s company policy.”
“Why the hell not? I pay an exorbitant membership fee. If I want to buy you a drink, I will.”
“Thank you for your kind offer, but I’m politely declining.” She smiles sweetly, but there’s the familiar twinkle in her eye that burns brighter when she’s defying me.
“Well, come and talk to me then. Show me how you earn these tips you keep banging on about.”
She shoots me a guarded look, like she can’t decide whether I’m playing. But she humors me. “Okay, usually, I’d ask them if they had a busy day.”
“How original,” I say dryly.
“What would you like me to do, sir?” The word sir rolls off her tongue like silk as she bats her lashes, leaning on the bar with her chin resting in her hand.
Instantly, I’m hard. I’ve been on the edge all evening, my eyes eating up her every movement.
But now there’s no mistaking the thick arousal fighting my zipper.
I take a long sip of my whiskey to steady my pulse rate, but all I can think about is grabbing her ponytail and ramming my tongue between those hot red lips.
“Violet,” I warn, my voice low. “Are you intentionally being a cock tease?” Her eyes widen, like she wasn’t expecting me to go there, but I see how her green eyes darken.
The way they take a leisurely stroll down my body before lifting back to mine.
Her lips part, the faintest intake of breath betraying her.
The entire damn building could burn down, but nothing could drag my gaze away as her eyes hold mine.
She swallows thickly, pulling back first, shaking off our moment.
Flustered, she grabs her treasured notebook, flicking to an empty page.
“I’ll tell you what,” she trills nervously, “I’ll start a page for you.
How’s that?” She sneaks another glance my way, but her gaze falters under the weight of mine—unyielding, offering her no escape, no place to hide.
There’s a slight tremble in her hand as she brings the pen to paper.
Oh, yes, she feels it. This thing between us.
The way it wraps around her, suffocating and electric.
It terrifies her as much as it thrills me.
“So what do you like doing in your spare time?” she asks, tapping her pen on the page, her polite smile back in place.
“I like to fuck, Violet.”
This time, it’s her turn to choke, her jaw hanging open like she’s lost the power of speech.
She shakes her head, a perplexed smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Erm, that’s a little bit too much information, Chase, but never mind.” She clears her throat, soldiering on. “What about hobbies?”
I smirk, raising an eyebrow, enjoying the flush creeping up her cheeks.
Taking pity on her, I give her something to work with.
“I like to fight. It’s how I keep fit. Mainly MMA.
” She scribbles it down, bringing the pen back to her mouth as she chews the end.
And now I’m jealous of a pen. Are there no limits to my lameness?
Enjoying finally having her undivided attention, I’m pissed when Lacey appears from behind to inform Violet her shift is over. The relief on Violet’s face is palpable as she slots the notebook away and gets ready to go.
“Sorry to leave you,” she says, already half-jogging away. “But that’s the end of my shift. I’m sure Lacey will be more than happy to serve you.”
Swallowing my disappointment that she’s leaving, I rise from the stool, following her to the end of the bar. “How are you getting home?”
“I take the Subway.”
“It’s late. I’ll take you.” The words trip from my mouth without thought. But there’s no way I’m letting her go on her own this late.
“No,” she says, her tone firm, scanning the surroundings like she’s worried someone may overhear. “I can’t be seen going home with a client. I’ll lose my job.” Before I argue, she yanks open the staff room door and disappears.
I call my driver, instructing him to wait outside the staff exit and make a quick detour to the manager, Sonny’s, office. He and I need to chat.
Sliding into the back seat of the limo, I wait for Violet to appear. It doesn’t take long before she steps outside. She’s changed into ripped jeans and a black jacket, her long hair flowing down her back. I wind down the tinted window, beckoning her over.
“Get in the car, Violet,” I demand, making it clear it’s not up for discussion.
She rolls her eyes at my bossy tone, striding down the sidewalk as my driver, Albert, crawls along next to her.
“Ugh, stop following me like some weirdo.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder, pulling her handbag tight on her shoulder.
“Albert,” I say, dragging my fingers through my hair. “Help me out here. Can you ask Violet to get in the car?” Albert meets my gaze in the rearview mirror, his eyes shining with amusement. “Of course, sir.” Albert has the air of a friendly grandpa. He looks too lovable to turn down.
Albert slides down his window, calling over to her with his impeccable manners.
“Miss. Violet.” She pauses, the change of voice throwing her for a loop.
“Miss Violet,” he repeats. “It’s very late, and I won’t be able to rest tonight until I’m certain you’re safely home.
” Slowly, she swivels to face Albert, distrust still clouding her eyes.
He shoots her his best Papa Smurf smile, and she crumbles instantly.
“Okay, I’m coming for you,” she says, pointing at Albert.
“See,” I say to Albert, under my breath, “You’ve still got the moves, you old dog.” I flash Violet my best triumphant smile as she slides into the seat next to me, still grumbling about how many tips I lost her.
“Where too, miss?” Albert says, his finger poised on the GPS.
“It’s 45-20 Queens Boulevard, Sunnyside,” she says, poking her head through the gap between the front seats.
I lean back in the seat, the tension in my shoulders easing. “Well, at least I can console myself. You don’t go home in that uniform.” I say, relieved I don’t have to suffer through how my body reacts to it.
“Please. I’m not that dumb. Like I’d willingly walk around in public looking like I’m headed to a tennis match at the Playboy Mansion.” She scoffs, shaking her head. “Besides, you do realize I survived twenty-five years without you, right? I can take care of myself.”
I fold my arms. “Then why do you even need this job? You have a perfectly good day job.”
“It’s not enough to sustain my lifestyle.” She shrugs, biting her nails.
“What do you have a raging cocaine addiction I should be worried about?”
“I have some debts I need to pay off,” she says, glancing out the window, clearly uncomfortable with the direction of the conversation. I keep quiet, opting to choose my battles. It’s enough she got in the car tonight.
Albert slows to a stop outside an aged apartment block, its brick exterior showing its age but well-kept enough.
“Here we are, miss,” Albert says, jumping out to open the door. Violet grips the handle, ready to hop out, but I reach out for her arm, stopping her. “Wait, Violet.”
She turns, an eyebrow quirked as if to say what now.
“I’ll walk you up. It’s dark.” I frown as I observe the entrance cloaked in darkness. Just a narrow corridor swallowed in shadows.
At least she doesn’t argue as I follow her to the stairwell and up to the third floor.
“So, do you live by yourself?” I keep my tone casual, though my mind is already running through the implications.
If she has a partner, it’s for the best. Relationships with staff members are a hard no for me—too messy and prone to lawsuits.
I’ve never once entertained the idea, but Violet has a way of testing all my limits, rewriting rules I thought were ironclad.
“I live with my sister, Gracie,” she says, fiddling with her key in the lock.
“But she’s going to college in the fall, so not for much longer.
” Her lips curve into a small, fond smile, dimples deepening.
It’s impossible not to notice how her face softens when she talks about her sister.
I have to glance away before my thoughts wander somewhere they shouldn’t.
“Well, this is me. Thank you, Chase. I think I’ll be okay from here.
” For the first time tonight, there’s a softness and vulnerability in her eyes that makes me take a step closer.
Without thinking, I finger a stray lock of hair, my fingertips brushing her cheek as I sweep it away, her skin so silky I’m itching for a taste.
A strange tension hums between us, and for a moment, I can’t seem to let go.
What the hell am I doing? Maybe it’s the whiskey dulling my sense of boundaries. But I need to leave. Now. Before I cross a line, I can’t uncross.
Violet stumbles, and I jump back in surprise when the door is flung wide open.
“Jeez, Gracie, you scared me,” Violet exclaims, her cheeks flushing as a teenage girl appears in the doorway, blinking at me with wide, curious eyes.
“Why are you still up? It’s late,” Violet scolds, ushering her away.
“D’uh. It’s Friday night. No high school tomorrow,” Gracie shoots back, rolling her eyes.
High school? Why the hell is she living with Violet and not the parents?
She looks back at me, a shit-eating grin filling her face as Violet practically bundles her into the other room. “Who’s the hot dude? Did you finally find a match on Tinder?”
“Gracie!” Violet hisses, grabbing her sister by the arm and steering her firmly away. “Keep your voice down.”
When she reappears, her face is a deep shade of red. “Sorry about her,” she says, her words tumbling over each other. “She doesn’t have an off switch.”
I smirk, but before I can reply, Violet steps into the doorway, her hand already on the side of the door. “Well, goodnight,” she says, her voice rushed as she looks anywhere but at me.
I open my mouth to say something—anything—but she’s already nudging the door closed. It almost slams in my face before she catches herself, peeking out one last time with a cute smile. “Thanks again, Chase.”
For a moment, I stand there, staring at the closed door, the warmth of her skin still lingering on my fingertips. But then reality slices through the haze.
This isn’t me. Cold. Calculating. Ruthless control—traits that got me to where I am. But tonight, she’s made me weak. Too many times to count. I almost fumbled an opportunity with Monarch because of her.
This needs to stop.
Starting now.