I knock on the door, almost squeaking at the booming voice that tells me to come in. Calm down, Kitty.
Pushing down the handle of the door, I slowly push it open and step inside. Sitting behind the desk is Jonny May, dressed in a dark gray suit, no doubt tailored to his exact measurements.
“I’m here for the interview,” I say, my voice coming out stronger than I thought it would.
“Take a seat.” He extends his hand to the sofa that sits against the wall and I walk over, sitting on the edge. “So, tell me, Kitty. What makes you want to work here?”
“Well, I need a job.” I shrug and cross my legs, smirking slightly at how his eyes flick down. “And I heard this place pays good. I want to get out of Wayward and this is the only way I can do it.”
He steeples his fingers under his chin and stares at me right in the eyes, narrowing them slightly and not moving them from mine. I desperately want to look away but I know it’s a test.
His gray eyes swirl the longer he stares. I’ve never seen eyes that color before and for a second, I’m shocked and enthralled at the same time.
He leans back suddenly, lifting his leg and putting his ankle on his opposite knee.
“You worked a bar before?”
“Yeah.” One shift counts, right?
“You turn up on time, first time you’re late, you’re out. Only wear the uniform provided. We don’t want lots of…” His eyes trail up my legs slowly, causing goose bumps to spread over my body. “Skin showing, that’s saved for the dancers.”
“Got it.”
“There’s a no touching rule, someone touches you then you let security know, they’ll sort any problems out.”
“Okay.” I swallow. “Do guys try to touch the bar staff?”
“Sometimes,” he says, dropping his leg and leaning forward. “When they’ve had too much to drink.”
“Right.”
“But that’s what security is here for, Kitty.” He raises a brow at me and I scan his face. A little stubble on his cheeks, his gray eyes framed in ridiculously long lashes. His almost black hair cut short on the sides and longer on the top. He’s perfection and I can see why women fall for his looks and charm.
“You start a week’s probation tomorrow.” He pushes up out of his chair. “Be here at eight, don’t be late.”
“Okay,” I whisper, standing up and walking to the door.
I turn around as I’m closing it and smile. “Thanks for giving me a chance, Mr. May.”
“You’re welcome.” He smiles, a genuine smile and for a second I forget that I’m undercover.
I shake my head, bringing myself back to the here and now before I make my way out of the club and to my truck, making sure that I look around as I go. It’s dark out now and I’m hyperaware of what could lurk in the shadows.
Jumping up into my truck, I switch the engine on and turn the heater up.
I head straight back to the apartment block, deciding that I’ll order pizza when I get there.
I’m halfway home when the lights of an unmarked police car flash from behind me. Looking in my mirror I notice I’m the only car on the road so I pull over and watch through the mirror as the car comes to a stop behind me. Why the hell am I being pulled over?
I lean over to pull my license and registration out of the compartment that sits in front of the passenger seat and sit back up, turning my face to the window.
My eyes hit a strong jaw, lined with stubble that your fingers itch to run over. They trail up to full lips and a straight nose, then up to cheekbones that are so sharp you could cut yourself on them.
Then my eyes clash with his chocolate brown ones.
I should have known it’d be him.
I know it’s stupid for me to be pulling her over, but it’s the only way I could get her on her own without raising any suspicion. I should stay far away, let her do her job and not get involved, but I just can’t. Not when I know who she’s getting involved with.