Going Deep (Imperfect Love 2)

“I’m looking for Giselle.”

The woman’s brows furrow slightly, then she must remember her manners because she smiles and introduces herself. “I’m Lydia, Giselle’s boss.”

“Nice to meet you. I’m Killian, her boyfriend.” The title rolls off my tongue easily. We haven’t discussed labels, but giving myself that title feels right.

Lydia looks confused but quickly composes herself. “It’s nice to meet you as well,” she says, but it’s obvious Giselle hasn’t mentioned me. “Unfortunately Giselle isn’t here. Our office closes at six.”

“Is it possible she stayed late to work?” I eye the hallway which leads to her office.

“Occasionally she does, but tonight she actually left a few minutes early, so no, it’s not possible.”

A sinking feeling hits me hard. I thank her and head back to the elevator. When I get back in my car, I text Giselle: Where are you?

A few minutes later, she texts back: I told you I’m working.

There’s no way she lied to me, right? She wouldn’t tell me she quit working for A Touch of Class and it not be true. Not wanting to play games, I go for the truth.

Me: I’m at your office and you’re not here.

The bubbles indicating she’s typing appear…then disappear. This happens several times before they disappear for good. A minute later my phone rings.

“You’re at Fresh Designs?” she asks, sounding out of breath.

“Yes, and you’re not.”

“You came to check up on me?” Accusation drips in her words.

“I came to bring you dinner.”

She sighs. “I’m not there.”

“I know.”

Another sigh.

“Giselle, talk to me, baby.” Whatever it is we’ll figure it out.

“Promise me you’ll listen before you react.” Jesus, fuck.

“Giselle…”

“A friend of mine who works at A Touch of Class mentioned a popular nightclub recently opened, so for the hell of it I applied.” I notice she doesn’t name the club. “I didn’t think I would get hired, but I did.”

“And that’s why you haven’t been able to hang out…” The pieces are slowly coming together.

“Yes, because I’ve been working evenings.”

“When did you get hired?”

“Umm…like two weeks ago.” I do the math in my head. The day after we met with her mom and went to her dad’s place she mentioned she had an appointment. Several times since then she’s canceled our plans. She must’ve been working and didn’t tell me. Why wouldn’t she tell me?

“Giselle, what club are you working at?” I close my eyes and wait for the blow. The one I know is coming.

“Assets,” she whispers.

Fuck! The goddamned strip club. A high class one no less, but still a strip club.

“I’m not stripping,” she rushes out.

“Then what are you doing there?” I try to keep my voice composed, but fuck, this woman is going to be the death of me.

“I’m waitressing and working the bar. I worked the bar throughout college…” We’re both silent for a beat, and then Giselle adds, “Please don’t be mad.”

“I’m coming to get you.”

“Kill, please. I searched all over New York for a job! You don’t understand how hard it is to find a job that will pay me enough to cover my sister’s school and my school loans. Sure, the house being sold helps, but I still need to find a place to live and rent isn’t cheap. I have a masters in interior freaking design. I might as well not even have a college degree. The tips I make here are more than I make working at Fresh Designs.”

I put my car in drive and peel out. “I get it, babe. I do. But you’re not working there. I’ll be there in ten minutes. You can come out willingly or I’ll carry your ass out.”

Giselle gasps. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“There’s no way my boss—”

“Benjamin Fields?” I laugh humorlessly. “Trust me, he won’t do a damn thing about it.”

“You know him?” she shrieks. “Of course you do! You’re a goddamned NFL player. You know everybody!”

“Eight minutes, Giselle,” I warn.

“Kill, please! I’m on break. I took it just to call you.”

“And now you’re clocking out. Seven minutes.”

I click end on the call and throw my phone into the center console. Damn woman is testing my patience. I’m pissed as hell she’d get a job at a fucking strip club without telling me, but at the same time, it’s what I love about her. She’s hellbent on being independent, and she’s determined to take care of her mom and sister. While I’m furious, I’m also pretty sure I just fell even more in love with her.

I pull up to the valet and park my car. “I’ll only be a minute,” I yell to the guy. When I get up to the front, the bouncer who scans in the VIP members immediately recognizes me. Assets is a newer club but already well-known. Several of my teammates have VIP memberships here.

“Killian, how are you?”

“Good. You?”

“Can’t complain.”

“I didn’t know you were a VIP member.” He types away on his iPad. Before I can correct him and explain why I’m here, out walks Giselle from the side door. Her hair is in a high, tight ponytail. Her makeup way overdone. She’s wearing sweats and a hoodie, which means she changed out of whatever the uniform is. I expect her to be mad, furious even, but she’s not. She’s frowning and her eyes appear to be glassed over like she’s about to cry.