by Ava Harrison
“Stop,” Carter commands, and I look up to his stern gaze. “Don’t even let Drew’s actions impact you. If he’s paying you extra attention, it’s because something is special about you.”
It’s like he took the words right from my head. He knew exactly what I was thinking and the insecurities I carry. A kindred spirit is what I feel in Carter.
“Regardless of the attention, Bailey, don’t fall into his trap. He’s a good guy, but he’s not good for you.”
I bristle at his insistence that Drew and I are not a match. I know as much, but hearing someone else say it hurts. Especially coming from my friend.
“I said he isn’t good for you,” he repeats. “I see that look. You’re misconstruing my words. This isn’t about you, Bailey. It’s about Drew’s lifestyle. He owns a club. He runs with the elite. He dates models out in public. Everyone else is hidden from view like a sidepiece. And even those worthy models are tossed to the side eventually because Drew Lawson doesn’t do relationships.”
Every reason he just named is exactly why he’s right. I need to stay away from Drew.
He’s nothing but trouble for me.
“Well, good thing he’s just my boss, and nothing is going on.”
He bites his bottom lip. “That’s good to hear, Bae. I hope it stays that way.”
“It will.”
“Good.”
“Moving on,” I prompt, needing to discuss anything other than our sexy as hell boss.
Most of what he said I already knew from my sister, but hearing it from someone who knows him better than Harper just solidifies what she told me.
“Tell me more about this motorcycle,” I say, waggling my eyebrows.
Carter spends the next thirty minutes talking to me about all things motorcycle. From clubs in the area to the best highways to ride, I now feel like an expert.
My hands come above my head as I stretch, and a yawn escapes my mouth.
“All right, Sleeping Beauty. It’s time to get you to bed. You’re about to turn into a pumpkin.”
“Wrong fairy tale,” I mumble through another yawn, but I nod my head eagerly. The thought of my comfy duvet and feather pillows make it nearly impossible to keep my eyes open.
Carter and I head back to Silver, where I call for an Uber.
“Sure you don’t want me to wait with you?” he calls.
“No. It says it’ll be here in less than five minutes. I’m good.”
He pulls me into a hug. “Keep your phone on you. I don’t like you being out here all alone.”
“I’m fine, Dad,” I mock. “This place is lit up like Fort Knox. I’ll be fine.”
He takes off, leaving me standing outside the front entrance. I’m mostly safe, given the area, but I don’t love being out here by myself. Two minutes later, a Town Car pulls up and stops directly in front of me. I look around, wondering what the hell this is about. I called for an economy car. This is beyond luxury.
“What are you doing out here by yourself?” Drew asks from behind me, causing me to jump.
“You scared the shit out of me,” I say, clutching my chest.
His eyebrows are pulled into the center of his forehead, and he doesn’t look happy.
“I’m waiting for my ride.”
“This late? It’s dangerous for you to be out here by yourself.”
“Carter just left. My Uber’s coming.”
He scowls, stalking toward the waiting Town Car. Now it makes sense. A moment later, he’s making his way back toward me, and it’s my turn to frown.
“What are you doing?” I ask as he sidles up beside me.
“Waiting for your car to get here.”
I look up at his stern face. “I’m fine, Drew. You can go. Your car is waiting.”
“And Stan will continue to wait until you’ve been safely placed into your car.”
I huff indignantly. “I do not need a babysitter.”
“Clearly you do if you think it’s a smart idea to be waiting in the dark at this time of the morning,” he barks. Then under his breath, he mumbles, “Carter’s ass is going to regret this.”
“This isn’t Carter’s fault,” I snap, turning toward him while crossing my arms over my chest. “I make my own damn decisions.”
“Poor decision-making then.”
“God! You’re infuriating,” I practically yell, stomping away from Drew to stand on the other side of the club.
“Bailey,” he says, his tone warning. “Get your ass back here.”
“You’re not my father,” I toss over my shoulder, sounding like an angsty teen. I cringe at how immature I’m being at this moment, but I’m unable to stop. I’m exhausted, and his alpha attitude is annoying.
“You’re coming with me, or else I’m throwing you into the back of my car and taking you home myself. You know what? That’s exactly what I’ll do.”
He moves forward, and I’m pretty sure he is going to make good on his promise, but then he stops. “I’m only not grabbing you because I know you’ll make a scene, and it’s four thirty in the morning. I don’t want to deal with the police.”
“Good call,” I seethe.
He blows out a frustrated breath. “Bailey, this is my club. You’re my employee. I’m responsible for what happens to you on my property. You shouldn’t be out here by yourself.”
“I’m not your responsibility. I left here well over an hour ago. Carter and I grabbed breakfast, and I called for a car. It’s not here yet, but it will be soon.”
I look down at my phone to give him an approximate time and groan. “It’s been canceled. What the hell?”
He runs a hand back through his hair roughly.
“I’m going to try another one,” I say, pulling up the Lyft app.
“No,” he says, sounding resigned. “I’ll give you a ride.”
My head shakes back and forth. “Not necessary. I’ll be fine here.”
“Are you going to make me throw you over my shoulder? Just get in the damn car, Bailey. It’s late, and I need some sleep.”
As much as I want to rebel against the idea, he’s right. I’m just as exhausted, and being stranded out here isn’t a good idea.
I walk toward the car, indicating I’ll cooperate.
“You’re welcome,” he says to my back.
Thank you would imply that I think this is a good idea. It’s not.
11
Drew
We ride in silence after Bailey gave her address to Stan. The car is large enough, and we have plenty of space between us, but the pull I have to her is stifling.
I’ve never had the urge to yank a girl on top of me like I do her right now. Especially with the cold shoulder she’s giving me.
And that right there might be the answer.
I see the way her cheeks color and her body shivers when I almost touched her. Yet she barely gives me the time of day.
It’s maddening.
The car pulls up to a run-down building in a shady part of town. In all fairness, it’s probably not that bad. I’ve just been afforded the ability to live in the best neighborhoods and in the best buildings, so Bailey’s apartment building looks like the slums in comparison.
“Thank you, Stan,” she calls out before pushing open the door and exiting without a single word in my direction.
I groan. “Stan, give me a minute.” He chuckles. I’m sure he’s finding this entire situation hilarious.
He’s been with me for years, and he knows damn well that I don’t chase women, but here I am, throwing open my own door and running after her.
“Bailey,” I call out, and she stops, twisting the top half of her body around to look at me. “What are you doing, Drew?”
“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m walking you to your door,” I grate out. “Do you make it a habit of putting yourself in danger?”
I watch her jaw work before she clenches her teeth, popping one of her fists on her hip defiantly.
“Do you make it a habit of c
hasing after women who don’t want your help?”
“Bailey,” I warn, and she doesn’t back down.
“Go away, Drew.”
“Can you just accept my help? Is it so bad that I didn’t want to allow you to walk home in the dark? At that time of night, it’s unlikely you would’ve gotten another driver.”
“It’s New York City. I can always get a driver.”
“Your last one canceled,” I say, throwing my hands up in the air.
Frustrated, she takes a deep breath and walks toward me, shaking her head. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I just . . . what’s going on here?” she asks, changing tactics and throwing me off guard.
“What do you mean?” I ask, genuinely not knowing what she’s talking about.
“Why are you treating me differently from everyone else? You shadowed me tonight when, according to everyone else, that’s not normal behavior for you. You offer me one of the VIP slots when there are waitresses with more seniority. And here you are, giving me a ride home. Why?” she demands.
Should I tell her the truth? Fuck no.
I can’t even dissect what the hell is going on here.
Carter’s words filter through my mind, and I wonder again what this girl has been through, other than the obvious.
That thought has me taking a step back. I may be an asshole, but this girl doesn’t deserve it. So I concoct the best lie I can in seconds and spill.
“You’re right, it’s not a common practice for me to shadow employees, but I’m trying to be more in touch with what goes on in my clubs. You’re also right that I should’ve probably given the position to one of the other girls, but I wasn’t lying when I said you have drawn the attention of our regulars. You’ve gotten more praise than any of the others, and I don’t believe that seniority equates to being the best person for a job. I also know you need the money more than any of them.”
She winces. “And how would you know that?” I’ve clearly struck a nerve.
“Cal told me a little bit.”
She rolls her eyes. “Of course, he did.”
I raise my hands palm up and shrug. “How else do you think you got the job? I’m not gonna lie, Bailey. I’m not a huge fan of your soon-to-be brother-in-law. He’s a bit of a dick.”
“That’s one thing we can agree on,” she says, and I smirk. “And the ride?” she asks, obviously wanting me to explain myself fully.
“What can I say? I have a bit of a hero complex.”
She narrows her eyes, not accepting that as my answer.
“Okay, okay,” I relent. “I also don’t need a crime happening in front of my club to attract law enforcement. I try to run a clean ship, but that doesn’t mean everything’s perfect over there. I’m not about to go make problems that cause the police to sniff around, and let’s face it, your sister would be all over Silver if something happened to you there.”
“Fair enough,” she says, accepting that. “I just . . . I’ve heard rumors about you too, Drew. I don’t want to assume anything, but I also want to make it clear that I’m not one of those girls anymore.”
My head jerks back as I try to dissect everything she’s just said.
I’m not one of those girls anymore.
What the hell does that even mean? Do I even want to know?
No. I don’t. So I go on to the next what the fuck statement.
“What exactly have you heard about me?” I asked the question, knowing full well. Fucking Carter.
I’m gonna wring his neck tomorrow.
“That you like girls.”
I huff. “I like girls?” I sneer. “What warm-blooded man doesn’t?” I let out a sigh. “Listen. Whatever you’ve heard about me probably has some truth to it, Bailey, but not everything you hear is true.”
“I understand that, which is why I’m bringing it up to you. I want to hear it from the horse’s mouth, as they say,” Bailey sighs. “I just want to make it clear that you’re my boss, and I’m your employee. I’m not looking to garner any favors from you, and I’m not willing to give favors in exchange for privileges.”
“Jesus, Bailey. Do you hear yourself? I’m not running a massage parlor for Chrissake. You’ve done a good job, and I needed the help. Shadowing you verifies I didn’t fuck up by making that decision. I brought you home because I don’t want problems at the club. That’s it. That’s all. End of,” I say, growing more irritated with every second. “Now go inside and get some sleep because tomorrow is a new day, and it’s a busy one.”
She shuffles back and forth on her feet, looking unsure. Good. She should. If she were any one of my other employees, she’d be let go after essentially accusing me of quid pro quo.
Turning toward her apartment, she takes two steps before turning back around. “Thank you. And . . . I’m sorry if I upset you. I didn’t mean to imply you are inappropriate. I just . . .” She stops talking, shaking her head. “I appreciate everything you’ve done.” With those words, she leaves me there to watch her disappear through the door.
I run my hands down my face, suddenly exhausted. Much of what I said to Bailey was the truth, but so much of it was bullshit too. I have been giving her too much attention, and I have been thinking about her too much. For all the wrong reasons. Tonight, I need to get some sleep, and tomorrow, I need to figure out a way to work alongside Bailey without wanting more. She needs this job, and based on the work ethic I witnessed tonight, Silver needs her.
I can’t fuck this up.
All fucking night, I thought about Bailey, despite my intentions to expel her from my mind. I didn’t sleep, and now I sit at my desk wholly drained and frustrated as hell. The woman has me twisted in knots, and my head’s a mess.
I’ve watched her all night from my one-sided tower, coming and going from room to room and expertly handling a couple of high-tops as well. Every guy in the place lusts after her, causing my blood to boil, and I want to strangle them all. That’s the same reaction I want from my patrons. The better connected to their server, the more time they’ll spend, which leads to more money for the girls and Silver. Yet with Bailey, I don’t want a single one of their eyes roaming her body like they do.
It’s infuriating. And completely foreign. I’ve never given a fuck about guys looking at my girls—including those on my arm. The thought of them envying me for what I had only ever made me stand taller.
I want to hide Bailey away from it all. Shelter her. Protect her.
You don’t owe her this. She’s just a girl.
A beautiful fucking disaster of a girl.
A girl I need to help. A girl who reminds me of someone I couldn’t save.
12
Bailey
I avoid Drew like the plague. After last night’s ride home, I’m feeling stupid. I’d all but assumed he was coming onto me. Maybe he was, but who calls out their boss like that? Thankfully, I’ve been busy all night, and Drew’s been MIA.
Another plus? Reese and his crew of douche canoes haven’t shown their faces tonight. As much as I like their tips, a night without their incessant grabbing and nasty come-ons is welcome. I rifle through my money bag and see that it was yet another great night. I check the time and sigh in relief when I see I only have an hour until last call.
“Bailey, another high-top just sat down. Two girls and a guy. I put them in your section,” Monica says, smiling. Although something’s off about that smile. She looks more deranged than pleasant.
“Thanks?” I say, not really sure what’s up with her.
As I walk toward the section where the high-tops are positioned, my eye catches on Carter, who’s waving his hands frantically in the air, eyes wide and head shaking violently. What the hell?
I lift my hand, holding up a finger to signal that I’d come see him as soon as I grabbed my new table’s order. As much as I love talking to Carter, he’s overly dramatic at times. The customers who sit in the bar seats all night consistently create stories for our entertainment. Carter always gets excited when he has
a new one.
I chuckle at the thought as I make my way over to the table.
“Hi guys, what’ll it be?” I look at my customers and my entire body goes taut.
“Bailey?” My sister’s shrill voice runs down my spine, and my entire body runs cold.
“What the hell are you doing here?”
Now she is yelling, and every head within earshot turns their attention toward us, causing me to shrink in place.
“L-Let me explain,” I say, holding up my hand, trying to get her to calm down and stop making a scene.
“Explain what? That you’re a recovering addict working at a goddamn club? There is no explaining that,” she says, motioning toward the skirt around my hips, that holds my money purse. “Oh . . . and there’s the part where you bold-faced lied to me. After everything I’ve done for you?” she shrills.
I feel a hand at my back, and Carter leans down to whisper in my ear, “Want me to have Rob remove her?”
“You,” she spits vehemently at Carter. “You did this, didn’t you?”
I move toward Harper. “This has nothing to do with him. I met him once I started working here. Leave him out of this.”
She throws her head back and rolls her eyes. “Of course, you’ve made friends with the bartender. Let me guess, he’s your new drinking partner? Do you guys pop pills together too?”
Carter stiffens beside me at her accusation before he lifts a hand and signals to the bouncer, Rob. There’s no rectifying this scene now. She’s pissed Carter off. I want to argue with him because it’s clear she’s wasted, but there’s no use. She’s attacked him, and she’s drawing too much attention.
Harper is a lightweight. Where I’m the former drunk, she rarely drinks. Maybe my past has something to do with it, but the main reason is her job. She works extremely long hours, and it doesn’t leave her a lot of time for a social life. Add in the fact that Cal monopolizes the rest of her time, and drinking has never been a priority. It was another reason I never in a million years considered this run-in to be a possibility.