Whispers of Winter: A Limited Edition Collection of Winter Romances

by Nicole Morgan

  “Oh, poor Corey. Okay, what needs to be done?”

  “Nothing. Like I said, Corey had everything set up. I had Beth come in from the kitchen and get the tables set and make sure the buffet was ready. I just need you to be prepared for them to come in. They are in the front hall now.” He glanced at his watch. “In fact, we need to go welcome them and show them to the conference room. They are meeting in there for an hour, and then they will come in here for dinner. After that, they have a private show with three dancers. Pepper, Raven, and Devyn are performing for them, and then they will either leave or stay. I’m not sure what they will do.”

  “And what should I be doing?”

  “You should be with them every step of the way. If they need anything, take care of it, or you let one of us know.” He pulled an ear piece out of his pocket and stepped around me. “You will be able to hear everything that goes on inside the club with this, and everything you say will be heard, so be careful what you say.”

  “Everything I say?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  Well, I wasn’t sure I liked that. “Can’t I turn the mic on and off?”

  “Nope, sorry. This protects both you and the clients. You’d be surprised at the kinds of things that men say to the hostesses at these events.”

  I gave him an are-you-kidding-me-look, and he laughed.

  “Okay, so maybe you wouldn’t be surprised, but do you think you can handle it?”

  I swallowed. I was pretty sure I could handle it, but wondered what Wallie was going to think about it. “Yeah, I can handle it.”

  Ty clipped on the microphone and then slipped a wire down my back and adjusted it under the edge of my blouse. “Didn’t you take restaurant or hotel management in college?”

  “I was taking it. I had to drop out.”

  “How close were you to graduating?” he asked.

  “I had nine credits left to go.”

  He turned me and adjusted the equipment. “Consider this on-the-job training. Okay, let’s do a sound check on Reba. Wayne, are you listening?”

  “Yeah, I’m listening,” Wayne replied.

  I jumped as his voice whispered through the speaker into my ear.

  Ty laughed. “It will pick up anyway you speak, but if you want us to really hear you, lean slightly toward it and speak slowly and directly.”

  “Hi, Wayne, can you hear me?” I felt like an idiot.

  “Loud and clear, Reba, dear.”

  Ty gave me a thumbs up and winked. “Okay, let’s get this show on the road.”

  As we walked down the hall to welcome the group, I suddenly remembered that I wanted to talk to Ty. Maybe this right here was the answer to my prayer. “Hey, Ty, if you get a chance later tonight, can we talk? I want to ask you about something.”

  “Sure, Reba. I can always make time for you.”

  “Thanks, Ty.”

  A few moments later, Ty was introducing me to a room full of men, and my night had begun. For the next two hours, I was flying by the seat of my pants, and the first time I had to get on the radio and ask for help, I felt stupid, but when I got an immediate response, I felt better. It was also pretty cool that I heard what was going on around the club. I knew when the dancers started arriving, and I heard when Ty announced that the mouse was in the house. I assumed he meant that Monroe had arrived because the chatter that had come easily before between everyone calmed slightly.

  It wasn’t long before Wayne announced that Wallie was coming to the back door, and Bruce said he’d let him in. I wondered what Wallie was going to say when he discovered I was working as a hostess tonight and that I was on the radio system. A little thrill rushed though my limbs as I thought about seeing him again and what we would do later tonight.

  Wallie was barely in the back door when I heard him over the headset. “Why is Reba’s car here? She isn’t supposed to work until later tonight.”

  The radio remained silent for a few heartbeats, and Wayne, who happened to be in the room with me, glanced my way and grinned. “Stalking her again, Wallie? See, we knew you liked her.”

  “I know her schedule, just like I know Britt’s schedule. It has nothing to do with liking someone,” he growled.

  I had to work hard to keep my face from showing how happy I was that he followed my schedule.

  “She’s dancing for the private party tonight,” Wayne replied.

  A small growl came over the earpiece. “Tell me you’re fucking joking.”

  “He’s joking,” I inserted.

  “Reba?”

  Someone on the line chuckled, but before anyone could respond, I replied, “Evening, Wallie, so nice of you to worry about my schedule since you can’t even be bothered to speak with me in person.” I tried to be flippant to throw everyone off.

  “What the fuck?” he said.

  “She’s covering for Corey who went home sick,” Ty commented, “and if you didn’t already realize, she’s on coms.”

  “Yeah, you could have warned me.”

  Wayne joined in on the laughter. “And miss out on you making a complete ass of yourself, no way.”

  “You guys are morons,” he muttered.

  I hid a smile behind my hand as I entered the lounge. Wallie was on the other side, and our eyes clashed for a moment. I was surprised that the heat in our gazes didn’t melt the walls around us. I turned away and showed the men to their seats. Ty told Bruce to get the ladies in back moving.

  Through my earpiece, I could hear that Devyn was yelling, but I couldn’t make out exactly what she was saying. I winced as I thought about all the times I’d been back there and drama had been unfolding. Man, not only the ones in the rooms knew what was going on, but every single person in the building wearing one of these had a front row seat.

  I was going to be very careful what I said from now on when I was around any of the guards or hostesses.

  Chapter Eight

  Wallie

  I slept like a baby, and the only thing that would have made waking up better would have been if my pillow had been the soft flesh of Reba’s thighs. I sighed happily as I stretched and remembered the night before.

  Damn, I still couldn’t believe that Reba had been here—with me. It was a fucking dream come true. I rolled out of bed and used the facilities before breakfast. After finishing off two large omelets and four pieces of toast, I changed into workout gear. I didn’t have to work for hours, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t go in and use the gym at the club.

  In fact, as I glanced at my cellphone, I realized that there would be quite a few clients there already. Two of them always seemed to come in around this time and ask for my help once in a while. I’d noticed them both watching me and mimicking my routines. I considered it a compliment that they wanted to attain the strength and looks that I had worked so hard to achieve.

  Ty’s Viper was in the lot when I arrived, but that was nothing new. One of his cars was always there, even more so than Monroe’s these days. I wondered if Ty ever slept. At this time of day, there were no bodyguards working, not unless we had dancers about to perform a show.

  During daylight hours, it was business as usual with the gym trainers, masseuses, or hostesses in the meeting rooms, kitchen staff present if needed, and Murl might be here if the bar was being used, but otherwise, the lounge area was closed off and quiet.

  I let myself in the back door using the biometric lock and my thumbprint. Monroe was neurotic about his security. In fact, at night, he preferred that everyone be checked in through security cameras which didn’t make sense. I would think he would want the thumb scanner to record our ins and outs, but he didn’t. I didn’t get it, but it wasn’t my job to understand.

  I went back to the gym and found seven other men working out, including Ty. He was on the dip stand with a weight belt around his waist and a twenty-five-pound plate dangling off the belt. His black t-shirt was plastered to his back, and his neck shone with sweat as I approached.

  “You’re here ear
ly,” I remarked as I reached him.

  He grunted as he winced on his last two pushups and then put his feet under him. “Yeah, couldn’t sleep.”

  “Nightmare?”

  “Same shit—”

  “Talk to anyone?”

  “Nope.”

  “Planning on it?”

  “Nope.”

  “Need a partner?”

  “Nope.”

  “I’m here.”

  “I know.”

  “Good talk.”

  “Yep.”

  I chuckled to myself as I walked away. Ty was in one of his moods, and it was better just to let it go. We’d all been there at one time or another. Ty and I had met when we were serving in the marines overseas, and we both had our own demons. His were a little worse than mine, although mine were pretty fucking twisted. He’d spoken to me about his once, although he’d been so shit-faced at the time that half his words had been slurred, and he hadn’t made much sense. The next day when he was sober, I was too freaked out to ask him if what he’d said was true or not, and he’d never brought it up again.

  Maybe someday I would ask, or maybe someday he would talk on his own. He knew I was here if he ever needed me, just like I knew he was there if I needed someone.

  I shoved all the ugly war demons out of my head and focused on my workout. A few minutes later, the only thing on my mind was the pain of the muscles, how many reps I had left, and what weight plates I needed for my next set. Two hours later, I was whipped and guzzling a bottle of water as I headed down the hall toward the rear entrance.

  I’d spent the last thirty minutes helping the other two clients with their workouts, so I was already cooled down, and I was starving. I couldn’t wait to get home, shower, and eat again. I was pretty sure that it was going to be a carb meal with lots of pasta.

  “Hey,” Ty called as I reached the back door, “so did you apologize to Reba for your Neanderthal behavior?”

  I schooled my facial features to remain neutral instead of breaking into a huge smile at the sound of her name. “Yeah, I did.”

  “Did she forgive you?”

  I shrugged. “Who knows with women.”

  “Reba’s not like most women. I think she gives pretty clear signals. She either forgave you or she didn’t. I have little doubt you didn’t know which one it was.”

  I glared at him. “Why don’t you fucking ask her yourself?” I turned and put my thumb on the door lock to open it. It clicked open a moment later.

  “Just be careful, Wallie,” Ty called as I burst out the door.

  “Mind your own damn business, Ty.”

  “I am. You are my business,” he yelled.

  My reply was the middle finger over my shoulder as I reached my truck. I didn’t know how he knew, but he did. Fuck!

  I was driving down the road before I released the anger roaring through me, and I hit the steering wheel. Damn it! Ty was my friend, but he was also my supervisor—and the boss’s right-hand man. I couldn’t ask him to keep this a secret. A rule was a rule, and they were in place for a reason.

  No one dated the dancers because the dancers were coveted. They were beautiful women, and Monroe didn’t want to deal with jealous partners, boyfriends, or spouses in the building while they were working. He wanted the dancers to focus on what they were doing: putting on a show for the male clients, making them feel as if they were the most important men in the room. If their boyfriends or spouses were around, it would be harder to do—no matter how good of an actress they were.

  We all understood it and thought it was a good idea. Shit, how many times had I felt the green-eyed monster of jealousy seething fire into my gut as Reba danced on stage and men eyed her every move—and we weren’t even together. Damn, I couldn’t imagine how bad it would be now. Hopefully, I could convince her to stop dancing soon, and we could come out as a couple and really build a relationship together.

  As I straightened my bedroom later, I stood at the edge of my large walk-in closet and looked at all the vacant space. At one time, I’d wondered what I would do with all those shelves and rods, but now I could envision Reba’s clothes filling the space. Shit, I’d had her one night and I practically had her moving in with me already. I laughed as I made my way downstairs. I was actually looking forward to going to work tonight just so I could get a peek at her. I knew we wouldn’t get a chance to talk, but it was going to be fun to sneak a few looks at her—especially since now I knew exactly what every single inch of her looked, felt, and tasted like.

  I could not wait until after work tonight. I had no doubt she would be back here and in my arms after work. It wasn’t very fair of me to tell her that my real name wasn’t Wallie and then to send her on her way, but I figured it was the best method of making sure she returned. I just hoped that time flew at work.

  I was very surprised to see her Jeep in the lot when I arrived, and even more shocked to hear her on the coms. Well, this was going to be an interesting night. As the night wore on, I began to speculate about her moving over to that side of the business for good. I wondered if that would pay her enough to replace dancing. Then not only would we be able to come out and start dating, but we could work together, too.

  I liked that idea. I actually liked that idea a whole lot—so much so that I was in my own little dreamland not paying much attention to what was going on later that night. Reba had gone off coms hours ago when she finished with the party and had returned to her cocktail waitressing position. I heard Ty mention he’d be offline for a little while but didn’t pay attention to anything else.

  A little while later, someone called for Ty, and Wayne said he was offline. Bruce said he needed Ty for something at the front desk. Wayne told him that he was behind closed doors with a rainstorm; in our world, a rainstorm was an emotional female.

  “What storm?” I asked, feeling nosy.

  “Your favorite,” Wayne answered, “Reba.”

  My blood froze in my veins. “Where are you?”

  “Bar,” Wayne replied.

  I hustled toward him without saying a word. I didn’t want anything else I said to be over the coms.

  When I reached him, I leaned toward him and covered my mic, while he covered his. “What happened?”

  “Reba was upset, crying. She went in to talk to Ty, and then the two of them went into Monroe’s office. They’ve been in there for a while,” he whispered into my ear.

  “Fuck!” I snarled. “Do you know what it’s about?”

  “No. Why? Did you do something?” he studied me, and guilt must have been written all over my face. “No shit! You slept with her?”

  “Shut up!” I wiped my hands down my face. “Well, fuck,” I growled, “if they didn’t know before, they know now.”

  He winced. “Sorry, man.”

  Just then Ty came over the mic. “Wall, come back to Monroe’s office, please.”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied, and Wayne cringed as I strode away.

  I steeled myself to face them and an emotional Reba, but when I reached the office, Reba was gone and so was Monroe. Ty sat behind Monroe’s desk and looked tired as hell.

  “Where’s Monroe?” I asked him.

  “He had a meeting to go to.”

  “Okay, how much trouble am I in?”

  “You’re not fired,” he stated, and I released a relieved breath, “but you’re not going to be happy either.”

  “Don’t tell me Reba was fired because this was my fault.”

  He held his hand up. “There is no fault or blame. She admitted it happened. She said it was a one-time thing and it won’t happen again.”

  I jerked back, a little surprised that she would say that. I’d have thought she would have wanted more, like I did.

  “She had to say that, Wallie,” Ty continued.

  “Why?”

  He rubbed his eyes with two fingers. “Because she just went full-time as a dancer.”

  “What!” I shouted as my blood pressure spiked. At the same
time, my legs went out from under me and I collapsed into the chair behind me. “Why would she do that?”

  “Because she was between a rock and a hard place, man. It’s not my place to say, and I would give her some space for a little while because she’s pretty upset, but she had to do it. Trust me, she did not want to.”

  “I don’t get it. If she didn’t want to do it, then why did she?”

  “I just told you, she had to.”

  “I can’t accept that,” I blurted.

  “You don’t have a fucking choice,” Ty growled back. “It’s her job, not yours. Your job is to protect her, not fuck her, not fall in love with her, but to protect her and the other women who dance. Can you do your fucking job—or do we need to fire you?”

  “I can do my job.” The words came out between clenched teeth.

  “Fine, go do your damn job. She went home. I suggest you leave her alone for the night.”

  “Ty—” I started.

  “Wallie,” he held his hand up again, “tonight has fucking sucked. Please do not push me. I’m exhausted, and I’ve just had to deal with Reba crying and talked Quinn off the ledge and now you—so just walk out of this office and do your damn job tonight. Okay?”

  I nodded, unable to say anything, and let myself out of Monroe’s office. As I closed the door behind me, I wondered if I had just closed the door on my dreams, too.

  Chapter Nine

  Reba

  I was enjoying the job of being a hostess and by the time I was done, I was pretty sure I was going to beg Ty to see if he could get me over to that side part-time. Right now, I worked forty hours a week as a cocktail waitress, and I’d be willing to do another thirty a week as a hostess if there was a way they could fit me in.

  I knew there was no way it would pay as much as dancing, but it had to come close. The hostess job didn’t finish up until right before my shift in the lounge, and I went from one position to the other with little change, only pausing to take the earpiece out of my ear. It was amazing how quickly I missed it, and how quiet the world sounded once I was without it.