The Lion and the Lamb

“Why don’t you just answer the question?” He sounded steady, but she could hear a slight hint of amusement laced through his tone.

“Are you always this pushy and demanding?” Pulling her shoulders back, she really didn’t like someone wanting to see more than what there was. She stood and tightened her hold on her purse. “Thank you for your time, but I think this was a bad idea.” She turned, but before she could take another step, his steely voice stopped her.

“Sit down, Ms. Weatherton.” He didn’t say it rudely, just demandingly, like he got what he wanted no matter what. Tatum found herself wanting to argue, but there was no need to be disrespectful, no matter how unnerved Leo made her feel. She sat back down, and a satisfied smirk crossed his face. She fought the need to scowl at him and instead gritted her teeth.

For several long moments, neither spoke, and the only noise in the room was of the clanking of bottles as the woman behind the bar put them on the shelf.

“Tatum, let me ask you something.” He leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs. She couldn’t help but watch the muscles under his flesh bunch as he got into position. “It’s clear working at an establishment like this isn’t something you care much for, so why agree to come for the interview?” Had she been that transparent that this stranger had picked up on her discomfort in the short time she had been in his presence?

“Listen, I’ll be completely honest.” She took a deep breath and met his stare head on. “I know Kiki set this up, and as much as I appreciate the opportunity, I just don’t know if I’m cut out for this kind of work.”

“And what kind of work is that, Ms. Weatherton?” He didn’t reveal anything in his expression.

“Kiki said this position was for a waitress, but I’m not stupid enough to think that job wouldn’t entail ‘entertaining’ the clientele.” Lifting her chin slightly, she continued to hold his stare. For several long moments, he didn’t say anything, just continued to watch her. He steepled his fingers in front of his face and watched her.

“Let’s say I offer you a job as the hostess.” He dropped his hands, and something flickered behind his eyes. He leaned forward, so close she could smell the sweet yet spicy aroma of whatever cologne he wore. “I can guarantee no male would lay his hands on you.” The husky roughness of his voice sent tingles in all the right places. A growl laced within his words. He sounded animalistic and hardened and had her thinking all kinds of filthy things.

Despite her mind telling her to get a handle on her shit, her body became even more aroused. Women like her, full-figured in all the places that weren’t exactly attractive, didn’t catch the eye of potential buyers in this industry. Men like Leo Castill wanted women who were tall and lithe, with big, fake tits, implanted asses, and bleached hair. She was the complete opposite of that. Dropping her gaze to her lap, she inhaled slowly through her nose. Is that why he offered her a hostess job? Is that why he said no one would touch her?

Her eyes and hair were dark. The locks were wavy and the majority of the time could be called frizzy. Her breasts were her most attractive feature, in her opinion, but that didn’t erase the fact that she had thicker thighs and an ass that rivaled J-Lo’s. Kiki and every woman who worked at these types of places were beautiful, something Tatum didn’t see herself as. She most certainly would not let a man like Leo make her feel bad for how she looked.

So what if she wasn’t a size two? Tatum was finally proud of the way she looked—well, she started to feel that way again. It helped having incredible people like Beau and Kiki around. Maybe if her childhood hadn’t been so fucked up, she would have a little bit more self-confidence. As it stood, she slowly tried to get her feet on the ground when it came to her self-image.

“You never answered me about what your plans for life are.” He looked at her, all intimidating and unrelenting. It was clear he wouldn’t give up on this. It wasn’t any of his damn business, but she felt herself telling him anyway.

“I started going to school for accounting.” She rolled her eyes when he smirked. “Yeah, not the most entertaining profession, but I like numbers, so I thought I might as well go with what I’m good at.”

“I’m sure you’re good at more things than that, Tatum.” Her mouth parted at his softly murmured words. His voice was like sandpaper, all gravelly and rough, but the end result sounded smooth and flawless.