After I return to my table, I finish my drink and realize the guys hardly noticed my absence. They’re too busy gawking at the girls on stage, but I can’t take my eyes off Elle as she walks around. The way she smiles at guys who don’t deserve a second of her attention has my blood boiling. I’m not sure where this instinct to protect her comes from, but it’s all I can think about. I want to wrap a jacket around her and demand that she quits. Then I want to take her back to my room and—
I shake my head before the inappropriate thoughts take over.
I’m her goddamn boss.
Fuck. I need to get out of here.
But I don’t want to leave until she gets out safely. So it’s decided then, I’m staying till closing.
For the rest of the night, she avoids me, and I can’t blame her. All of our conversations are job-related, but I overhear a lot of what she, Beverly, and Trina talk about. She just doesn’t know I listen to them.
It’s one in the morning by the time her shift ends. I watch as she cashes out her tips and tells the bartender goodbye. The last thing I want to do is to come off as a stalker, but the moment she goes out of view, I follow her outside. Instead of saying anything, I just watch as one of the bouncers walks her to her truck. Elle thanks him, and I finally release a breath once she’s safely inside.
After she buckles in, Elle looks up, and we make eye contact. I keep mine locked on her, and when she starts to drive off, she quickly waves. I sigh, realizing I fucked up big time.
I shouldn’t have touched her. Should’ve kept my hands to myself and kept my mouth shut.
But if I’m being honest, having her close enough to kiss sparked something in me that I thought was dead.
The part of me that Vivian broke.
It doesn’t mean I can do anything about it, and I won’t. Elle’s too young, and I’m too jaded. She needs a mentor, not a messy relationship with someone who has more emotional baggage than even I can comprehend.
By the time Friday morning rolls around, I’m anxious as hell but refuse to let it show. When I got back to my hotel the other night, I passed out, then drove home in the morning. I feel like a goddamn idiot for the way I acted, but I don’t regret it. Nothing needs to change between us, and I’ll make sure she’s aware of that.
“Good mornin’,'' Beverly greets, handing me a coffee. “Looked like you needed an extra cup today.” She smirks with a wink.
“Thanks,” I grumble. “Is Elizabeth here yet?”
“Yes, she just punched in.”
“Send her in, please.”
“Sure thing.” She exchanges a look with Trina, but I ignore it.
I take a long sip of the hot liquid and stare at my computer until the door opens.
“Come sit,” I order.
Elle glares at me because of my tone but shuts the door and takes a seat.
“I’m not gonna beat around the bush. Seeing you at that strip club took me by surprise. I apologize for following you into the hallway, especially since I’d been drinking. With that being said, you need to quit your job.”
She crosses her arms, then shrugs. “Fine, I quit. I’ll be back for my last check.”
“Your other job,” I clarify, knowing damn well she knew what I meant.
“I’m positive you can’t dictate what I do outside of these walls. What I do on my own time is none of your business,” she retorts. I should’ve expected her to be defensive and not listen.
“If it’s about the money, I’ll give you a raise.”
“No.”
I grind my teeth at how damn stubborn she’s being. “Double,” I counter.
Elle’s brows shoot up.
“You don’t belong there. It’s not a good look for the clinic.”
“Is that the only reason you don’t want me there?” she challenges. I can tell she wants to be defiant, but there’s no way she can deny my offer.
Instead of going down the road of why I don’t like other men looking at her, I bring up another point she won’t argue. “Unless you’d like your grandma to find out where you spend your spare time, I suggest you accept my terms. Mrs. Bishop is the reason you’re here right now, and she’d be awfully disappointed—”
“You wouldn’t,” she says, and I almost hear a tremble in her voice.
“Do you want to call my bluff?” I retort, meeting her narrowed eyes.
“Fine,” Elle finally blurts out, then stands. She places her palms on my desk and leans over slightly. She’s so pissed, she’s seething. “I’ll give them my notice, but it won’t be because you demanded it. Next semester is going to be extremely busy, and I’ll need that day off to study.”