“If my schedule wasn’t packed today, I would love to,” she tells me. “I’m just surprised. Dante has never asked me if I wanted to have coffee or anything like that,” she says with a little laugh.
“Is he a good boss?” I ask curiously.
She nods. “He is. Actually, he’s the best boss I’ve ever had. My youngest son has some health issues, and it was almost impossible for me to keep a job before. Lots of time off needed for doctor visits and tests and the occasional terrifying hospital stay,” she explains, and I nod. “But Mr. Knight is really great about it. I’m mostly able to set my
own hours, as long as I get the things he needs done, done. No hassle about the times when I can’t come in to the office. No stress over whether I’m going to lose my job because I need to be there for my kid. I’m very lucky to work for him.”
“Is it like that throughout his company?” I ask, thinking of his father, who didn’t seem much like Dante at all.
Susan shakes her head. “Definitely not. I’m lucky. My contract is with Dante, not with the company.”
After Susan leaves, I have time to think that over. He’s much kinder than I expected at first. Even to me. I recognize that paying one million dollars for a handful of events is going above and beyond, even if he is filthy rich.
I spend the day doing my usual: checking through upcoming casting calls in L.A. I’m pretty sure that’s where I’m going to move my Pops and me after this is all over. A fresh start in the heart of the entertainment industry. Maybe one day I’ll make it out to New York, but L.A. sounds pretty damn good. So I spend time every day looking through ads and a few industry websites for casting calls, and then I spend a little more time looking for apartments for rent. With what Dante’s paying me, I can pay off Pops’ debt, buy him a little place, and still have enough left over to live on while I find a job and go on more casting calls.
One thing I know for sure: I’ll never strip again. I mean, I didn’t even really do it at the Calla Club; I hadn’t had a chance before Dante bid on me. But I’d come close, and I can’t see ever being in a situation where I’ll need to again. Some women find it empowering and fun, and that’s awesome for them, but I’m still a romantic at heart, maybe.
I only want one man looking at me naked.
Damn it.
I hate him. At least, part of me hates him. I hate that I want him to touch me again. I hate that I can’t get the feel of his body crushing mine out of my mind, or that I crave the sensation of him filling me, thrusting into me so hard I feel like I’m going to be split in two. I didn’t expect to be this out of my mind, this horny, this needy for him again, even after he acted like such a jerk.
I look at the dress Susan brought for me. It’s gorgeous, a long, violet Valentino gown that looks like it belongs on the red carpet, not hanging in my closet. Of course, Susan brought shoes, a tiny clutch, and matching underthings as well.
This makes me remember those red panties the first night and the way Dante tore them from my body. He was almost frightening in his determination to have me, and it had only made me want him more.
I close my eyes. But we’re not doing that again. He’s a jerk and we’re both adults. We know it’s a bad idea. My brain gets that, even if my body refuses to listen.
At seven, I’m ready to go. I give myself the once-over in the full-length mirror in my room, and I have to say, I look damn good. The Valentino gown hugs my curves perfectly. It’s a sleeveless, strapless design, and my breasts look freaking amazing, the tops of them peeking out over violet satin. The skirt is swishy and floaty, and it moves like a cloud around my legs. My makeup is minimal, and I’ve left my hair down.
I’ll just admit it. Part of me wants Dante to suffer tonight. He hurt me more than I wanted to show, but I’ve seen the way he looks at me when he thinks I’m not looking. That hungry, almost feral look…he wants me. If he hadn’t acted like a jerk, we could have been screwing like mad this past week, and my body would be a lot calmer.
So payback is a bitch and, I guess, so am I when the situation merits it.
I grab the little black clutch Susan brought for me and take a deep breath before stepping out of my room.
Dante’s standing in the living room dressed in a black suit that was clearly custom-made for him. It fits him perfectly. He turns from the windows and his dark gaze flicks over me. It’s impossible to miss the appreciative look in his eyes, but I stay as cool and aloof as I have been every time I’ve seen him this past week. It’s a role, I’m an actress. I can be anything. Even indifferent to Dante Knight.
“You look nice,” he says.
“You too, Mr. Knight.”
“Can you stop that?” he mutters.
“Stop what?”
“Stop with the Mr. Knight bullshit.”
“I’m your employee. All of your other employees call you Mr. Knight.”
He seems like he wants to say something to that, but he bites back whatever it is.
“For tonight, for this event, I would appreciate it if you’d go back to calling me Dante,” he says, and there’s a low growl to his voice that tells me he’s not feeling as calm as he’d like.
Good. That makes two of us.
“Of course. Is there anything I should know about the couple? Things the wife is interested in, places they’ve traveled?”