What's Your Price

“You know it won’t be.”

“Good.” She put her hand to his hip. “Are you done?”

“You’re an interesting woman.”

She smiled at him, and it took his breath away. “I imagine so is ninety percent of the female population, if you took the time to get to know them.”

“And the other ten percent?”

“No one is perfect.” She lifted up. “Not even me.”

Chapter Three

The following evening, back at work and damn happy about it, Laura took the drinks order from a table in her section. The nightclub she worked at had several tables where food and drinks could be ordered, a bar, and of course a dance floor. The music was loud, but she could always hear what people wanted.

After carrying the order to the bar, she handed it to Mike, and then grabbed the tray of her other order. Everything went smoothly.

She had thought Evan, the boss, or who she assumed was the boss, ran a really tight ship. Now she knew this club was owned by Gabe himself. She didn’t know why she hadn’t been aware.

Getting the call that morning from the diner, as well as the bar, she felt lighter. She loved to work. The landlord had also paid her a visit and advised he’d gotten it wrong. Rent hadn’t been increased but decreased. She didn’t believe that shit. Gabe was all over it.

Still, while she’d tried not to think about him, no matter where she went, she knew he was there in some way.

She hadn’t been wrong either. A brand-new shiny, expensive-looking car had started to follow her. When she went down alleys to go collect something, a guy stood not too far away. People steered clear of him. She didn’t get a good look, but it didn’t take a genius to know Gabe had decided to have her followed.

Keeping a smile on her face, she served up the table, getting their order just right. After she walked back to the bar, she saw she had no orders waiting, so she stayed, leaning against the bar as Mike opened bottles of beer, flirted, and served wine. He’d asked her out once, but she shot him down. There was no room to screw with who you worked for.

Gabe was the first guy she’d slept with since she was eighteen years old. She pushed some hair off her face and didn’t even try to think of that tiny little detail. Any single element of her foster life, she didn’t allow herself to think about, to dwell. It was all in the past, and she finally had her future ahead of her.

“Hello, pretty lady,” Gabe said, coming to stand directly behind her.

She’d recognize his voice anywhere, and with how he stood, pressed directly behind her, she couldn’t help but close her eyes for the merest second to bask in his presence. The tips of his fingers traced across her arms, and goosebumps erupted all over her flesh. For the tiniest hint of a second, she allowed herself the luxury to close her eyes and enjoy the attention, his touch. It set her on fire in all the best ways.

Then, reality sank in.

She spun around. “I’m working.”

“And I’m enjoying one of my many nightclubs.”

She put a hand to his chest, and he smirked. “Dance with me.”

“I’ve got a table to wait on.”

“Order up,” Mike said, choosing the most inconvenient time to interfere.

“I’m waiting,” Gabe said.

She grabbed the serving tray, ignoring the shake of her hands, and made her way across to the table. With a smile firmly in place, she served them up. Returning to the bar, she only had time to put the tray on the counter before Gabe grabbed her arm and led her onto the dance floor.

This was one place she never partied. In fact, she never went out. She saved her money, using only a small amount to buy some treats for herself, mostly lingerie.

“You’re not the boss of me,” she said.

The music was fast, but Gabe pulled her into his arms. His hands landing on her ass, he held her close. His lips brushed across her ear. “That’s where you’re wrong, baby, but I can wait.”

She gripped his shirt. “This is my workplace.”

“This is my bar. Dance with me.”

The music suddenly turned to a slow number, and couples all began to hold one another.

“What are you’re doing?” she asked.

“You’re not impressed?”

“It’s going to take a lot more than slow music to impress me.”

“You know, Laura, you’re turning out to be quite a challenge. You don’t accept gifts. You don’t like losing your work and that is the only time I get a reaction out of you. I can support you.”

She laughed, stroking the hairs at the back of his neck. “I wonder how many women have fallen for that. Sure, you’ll support me. For a year, maybe two. If I’m lucky, maybe even ten, until my much younger replacement takes over.”