“Ah . . . You want my money,” he commented with feigned disappointment. “I thought we had something real going here?”
“In your dreams.”
He smiled and took his time going through his wallet so he could check me out a little longer. Voices brought my attention over my shoulder, and my heart quickened at the sight of Alfred pointing in my direction with an overgrown man in a dark suit by his side.
Mr. Brown slipped a fifty to me. I snatched it up.
“I’d say thanks, but you really inconvenienced me today.”
“Whatever, babe.”
A mountain of a man was headed my way with irritation in his eyes. I probably had ruined his lunch. So I did what any sane woman would do.
I ran.
Pushing a black curtain out of the way, I scrambled to find a way out of this place. Multiple doors lined the hall on either side, but no red exit sign beckoned me to safety.
“I swear to God, when I catch you . . .” the bouncer muttered from not far behind me.
It felt like I was a preteen again running from the police with a pilfered can of baby formula in my hoodie. The only options had been stealing or listening to hungry cries while my foster parents of the month were out on a binge.
Where was the freaking exit? This Wonderland was no longer sparkly, but a nightmare of red doors and black curtains.
The sounds of the bouncer’s steps were closing in, and the idea of being caught in his oversized paws grabbed ahold of my chest.
I opened the nearest door and shut it with a quiet click. I kept my hand on the knob, listening to my heavy breaths and the bouncer’s footsteps pass in the hall.
“I said I wasn’t interested in entertainment tonight.” The cold and distant voice prickled my back.
Exhaling, I spun around to see I stood in a private room furnished with a silver pole, a bar, red velvet chairs, and a couch where a suit jacket had been discarded.
A man sat at the booth in the corner. His forearms rested on the table while he studied the paperwork strewn in front of him. A white dress shirt molded his torso like a second skin, the fabric pulled taut at his biceps. The lighting was dim, but by the way the shadows caressed his face, it was clear he was undeniably handsome.
The designer suit, the watch on his wrist, the fade haircut that probably cost more than my monthly rent—all of it screamed money. Though the more obvious tells of power were the set of his shoulders and the heavy presence surrounding him like a shield. It was hot and uncomfortable to the touch as if I was standing close to the thick heat of a fire.
“Honestly,” I sighed with tightly leashed exasperation, “do I look like a stripper?”
The man didn’t even glance at me. “I couldn’t care less what you look like.” He sounded distracted and annoyed. “Leave.”
I had no doubt when he said that single word women fled. His command burned in my stomach with the itch to submit. I hated it.
I’d grown a thick skin in my twenty-two years having to fend for myself a majority of that time. The best thing my mother ever did for me was put her boyfriend of the month—who she always swore was “the one”—before everything else, including me.
Her neglect taught me to protect myself from men at a very young age. It also showed me most of the male species sucked. And the fact this one threatened to crumble my confidence like the Berlin Wall with just a few words . . . well, that really annoyed me.
I took a step into the room, my eyes taking everything in, and nonchalantly asked, “Did your maid forget to put a chocolate on your pillow last night? Is that why you’re acting like such a prick?”
His gaze finally came to me. Deep, dark, and hostile. Clearly, he’d never been called such a name in his life. I relished the opportunity to be the first.
He slid a stare down my body, criticizing my attire with a single touch of his eyes. He didn’t have to say a word to announce he found me lacking in every way. Thankfully, I had a more-than-healthy amount of self-esteem.
“I can’t figure out if you’re a desperate attempt on the club’s part to interest me, or if you’re a lost orphan off the street who never got spanked as a child.”
The quick wit was so surprising, a laugh escaped me. “Let me guess, you want to spank me?”
“No. Go away.”
“Yeah, about that . . .” I ran my hand across the back of a soft, velvet chair. “We’re kind of stuck together for the time being.”