“Please, Mr. White. I need this job. I didn’t know who you were. I’m very sorry for my mistake,” Mike said, almost pleading. He fucking despised that. Why did they all beg like dogs? From women it was acceptable, beautiful even, but from normal men? No.
“The problem is, Mike, you were thinking with your dick. The women are attractive; a lot of them are, but you let them distract you from your focus, which should have been my bar and my money. Due to that issue I have no choice but to let you go,” he said with a smile while still looking at Conner who was refilling again.
“I was doing my job serving the ladies.” Alex turned to face Mike with a sigh.
“No, you were trying to serve your sex life, badly, I might add. What you do in your own time is not my business, but on my time, it very much is. There is no more to talk about. Tom, please sort the rest of this out. I am going to drink. I’ll be in the White if you need me. Also, give the ladies a bottle of the sixty-four on the house. After all, they’re the reason I’ve been so entertained for the last ten minutes.” He threw his dazzling smile at the women. They all instantly melted and gave doe eyes straight back at him with varying giggles. He wasn’t in the slightest bit interested and quickly scanned for that red hair again. Where the hell was she? Then he saw her.
He was just moving to the divider when the stupid barman did the unthinkable and launched toward him with a fist raised. It all felt like slow motion and as his arm raised to block the swing, he placed the other hand around the idiot’s head and shoved him to the floor. The dick crumpled, cracking his head off the shelving below the bar.
Lowering himself down to a crouch, he lifted the guy’s head by his hair.
“Are you still breathing, Mike?” The spluttering of blood indicated that he was.
“Fuck you, arsehole!” the shit seethed from the floor. He had to admit the guy had balls - stupid, but ballsy nonetheless.
“Do you want some more?” he asked quietly. “I’d be happy to oblige. Or would you rather I asked the guys to take you out the back? Talking of arseholes, I think Jerry’s on tonight and we both know how he enjoys his fun with little ones like you.” Mike instantly stopped struggling and stilled. “I think maybe we’ll leave it at that then, shall we?” he continued, letting go of the guy’s head and pulling himself upright again.
Nodding at the two bouncers who had arrived to see the commotion, one of whom was indeed Jerry, he turned his head to Conner with a smirk of amusement then instantly frowned again as the word “shithead” drifted up from beneath his feet. He sighed again - begging and now being a complete moron - the guy had some serious issues to deal with.
“Jerry, go have some fun,” he said, wiping his hand on a napkin and lifting his scotch. Jerry smiled and walked around the bar to haul Mike from the floor.
“No! Mr. White, please. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...” the idiot shouted as he was pulled around the corner by the very large man.
“No, you shouldn’t. Fucking stupid,” he said quietly as he exhaled and made his way through the divider toward Conner.
“Christ, man, you really are a fucking arsehole,” Conner stated with a smile as they walked away from the bar and he waved off the blonde who pouted like a child at her dismissal.
“Yeah, I know.”
“The kid was only doing what you would have done.”
“Well then, he’ll have learnt a good lesson today. Never let anything distract you from the task at hand, especially a woman,” he replied with a smirk. “And I would never fail as badly as that. The runt had no chance with any of them.”
“But Jerry? Really?” Conner asked.
“He’ll be gentle with him, I’m sure,” he replied, not really thinking about the situation. He was still too busy searching the room for the elusive redhead out there who had disappeared again..
“No, he won’t. That monster doesn’t know the meaning of the word gentle.” Possibly true, to be fair, but still of no fucking interest whatsoever.
They chuckled as they made their way across the floor to the private bays at the back of the dance floor. His friend still scanned the room for more, probably inadequate, prey, and continued with his downing scotch. He swiped his card against the door to the White Suite and raised a brow at Conner as they entered, who was clearly on some sort of mission to destroy some brain cells this evening.
“What?”
“Are you planning on slowing down at some point?”
“Why the fuck would I do that?”
It was a good point, and the man could drink most people under the table. He barked out a snort of amusement and nodded to the door as his friend damn near glared at him in frustration. It appeared he really did need a drink or two so he extended a hand and watched Conner head straight for the seating at the bar. Breathing in the smell of the room as the door closed behind them, Alex smiled at the sight of blue hair mingling with the design of the space. The burgundy leather and grey smoked glass still reeked of the timeless elegance he’d been after when he built the place and Conner just clashed. He always fucking did to be honest, but that was just part of his character - different, unusual.
“These booths are such a cool idea man. I still love this one-way glass shit,” Conner said as they poured two tumblers full of the amber liquid. “Good to see you again, man. You never fail to make an evening interesting. I can’t believe you fired the guy for fun and then sent him to a fate worse than death.”
“I didn’t fire him for fun. He was abusing my trust and then he thought about hitting me,” he replied, gazing out of the window hoping to spot the red dress again.
“Don’t pull your crap with me. I see right through it. You picked a fight with him when you could have let him off.”
“He won’t be so stupid again though, will he?” Conner simply stared and shook his head. Why was a mystery. The man knew him well enough.
Knocking back his drink and refilling his glass, Alex returned the stare and waited for a comeback. The shaking head situation carried on until a smirk appeared.
“So what are we eating tonight? I’m still starving.”
“The entertainment will arrive in about an hour. Christ, you’re insatiable,” Alex groaned as he removed his jacket. It was always the same with the man. He was surprised his cock was actually still attached.
“That comment coming from you seems a little ridiculous if you don’t mind me saying so,” Conner chortled in response. Alex raised a brow, but couldn’t deny it. The man was probably right.
The next hour passed swiftly. They had a lot to catch up on, and there was always a bit of business to discuss. However, the first bottle of scotch had disappeared far too quickly and they were half way through the second by the time ten o’clock approached. He felt his stomach beginning to ache at the hysterics his friend was causing about some ridiculous situation he’d gotten himself into while surfing in Bermuda when there was a knock at the door. He looked at his watch and laughed again at Conner’s eyes lighting up at the prospect.
He buzzed the door open and four women walked into the room, taking off their long coats as they moved. The flesh that followed was varied in colour and appeal.
“Miss Trembell said we should come by at ten,” said a cute brunette as she did that false head flick that seemed to be a requirement of the job.
“She did,” he replied as he followed the blonde’s legs wandering around. They looked… flexible. He tilted his head and then remembered another pair. What was it about that damned red dress and the woman in it?
“What would you like from us this evening, sir?” She directed her question at him and smiled seductively. He looked into her eyes. They were vacant, weak. He wanted nothing from them. That fucking red dress was what he wanted, right now. Christ, this was pathetic. He waved a hand toward the front of the booth and turned toward his other entertainment.
“Just do what you do, ladies, in front of the glass.”
“Fuck me, man, where do you find them?” Conner said, gawping an
d cracking his knuckles as he zoned straight in on the blonde. Blondes were always his go-to fuck of choice. Any other colour was apparently too complicated. Alex still hadn’t got a clue what that meant other than there might have been a brunette in the man’s past that he wasn’t aware of.
“Do we need more scotch?”
“Well, looks like I’m going to need something. Those girls could actually be scaring me,” Conner exclaimed as the girls moved to the glass panels and started their performance.. They were quite good - dull, but good nonetheless.
The champagne and scotch arrived quickly and the women continued to grind into anything that was available, but he just couldn’t keep the image of the redhead out of his mind, no matter how much the girls waved their reasonably impressive tits in his face. Elizabeth… That name rolled around his mouth quite nicely. Where was she now? And was she with another man yet?
The thought fucking disturbed him immensely, to the point where he almost got up to leave at one point. He hadn’t seen her pass the window at all. He’d been scanning the entire time they’d been in here, hoping for a glimpse. Maybe she’d left. That thought damn well annoyed him too.
“Are you still thinking about Beth, man?” Conner asked, sharp as a fucking razor.
“Who?”
“Miss Elizabeth Scott, pastry maker extraordinaire, hands all doughy and wet. You know, red hair and mile long legs. I wonder what she could do with those fingers. I bet they’re quite dexterous.” Alex barely contained a fucking growl that came out of nowhere.
“No.”
“You’re a shit liar. Well, to me anyway,” the dick said, laughing out loud. “You’ve been scanning that fucking window all night. I’m surprised you haven’t left yet.”
“I am not and I have not,” he replied, pushing the short-haired one away who was reaching for his cock and directing her back to the glass. She was becoming irritating in her desperate advances. She’d be better off in a fucking whorehouse.
“Yes, you are. You know I love you, man, but you’ve got to be ready for it,” Conner proclaimed rather quietly as he gazed at the brunette. “I won’t let you through to her unless you’re ready. She’s just too, well, nice for the likes of you.”
He stared at him, trying to work out what the hell the man was talking about.
“What are you talking about, you drunken fool?” he asked, watching Conner refill their glasses and collapse on the sofa with a sigh.
“Reality, Alex.” Conner sighed again as he looked down at the woman positioned between his legs and sneered slightly. “Love, commitment and all the things that you don’t have a fucking clue about or any sort of want for.”
Alex slumped down beside him and watched the other girls parade about again. Unfortunately, they were becoming boring and more perplexingly, Conner was right. Feelings of any sort were normally the last thing on his mind, but Christ, those long legs had been nice and that mouth was captivating him beyond belief for some unknown reason. And those eyes that seemed to burn into him were so fucking mesmerising that he could still almost feel them on him now, ripping into something that he hadn’t even remembered was still alive.
He picked up his drink, while gazing at his nearly passed out friend, and pondered if perhaps she might be worth some effort on his part for once. She clearly meant something to Conner and that could be a problem he’d need to think carefully about. Pissing Conner off was not to be recommended at any point.
“Ask me again tomorrow when we’re not fucked up,” Conner slurred without opening his eyes as the woman unzipped his trousers. Alex chuckled as he finished his drink and tapped the girl on the shoulder.
“Enough. You can get up and go.” She pouted. What the fuck was that pouting shit? She should have snarled if she was that into Conner, fought for him. Instead, she scrambled to her feet and took the money he was holding out to her with a smile. Whore.
“I think it’s time to get you home, my friend.” He waved the rest of the girls over, gave them some money and called for Andrews. “Come on. Up you go,” he said, almost to himself really as he grabbed onto Conner and hauled him upright. It wasn’t easy. The man weighed a bloody tonne and, regardless of his own size, he was struggling a little to say the least.
“You’d destroy a woman like her, you know? You’re a fucking cock like that,” his friend said as he half carried him to the private entrance next to the booths. Hopefully, Andrews would be there to take some of the weight off him. He frowned then sneered at himself. Conner was right; there really wasn’t anything else to say on the matter because he absolutely didn’t deserve a woman like that. Why the hell would he? He’d corrupt, degrade and humiliate her then throw her to the wolves so he could watch them devour her. One green-eyed wolf in particular sprang to mind and he smiled at the visual as he watched Andrews heading towards them.
Andrews dragged Conner into the car and basically threw him onto the floor in the back as Alex fell in beside him and leant his head back. Unfortunately, the moment he closed his eyes, all he could see was a pair of hypnotising brown eyes staring back at him and pink lips being licked. Fuck. He shook his head to try and dislodge the image but it wouldn’t leave so he let it swirl around with a smile. Then that strange guilt-like feeling emerged again and knocked him for six in the gut like a damned freight train. He opened his eyes and let the emotion channel through him, felt it build into something unknown and uncomfortable. Disgust or self-loathing poured across him in waves as it took hold and then slowly began to warp into something warmer inside him - something close to contentment or maybe even that elusive fucking peace he’d been searching for.
The car moved off and he gazed down at a now definitely passed out Conner who was filling up the entire floor space beneath him. He swung his feet up onto the seat and reached for the Cognac.
“Love sucks,” came mumbling from the floor by his feet, presumably originally from Conner’s mouth.
Did it? And why the fuck was Conner even saying that it did?
“Care to expand?” Nothing. Silence.
He tipped his head back again and sighed as those visions instantly took hold again. It appeared the woman stirred a feeling of some sort - an emotion of consequence that he thought had long since departed, one he definitely had no fucking clue about and one he could probably do without.
But Christ, they were incredible legs.
Chapter 4
Elizabeth
I can feel the pounding in my head before I even move, so I gingerly lean over and slam my hand against the alarm clock I rather cleverly set before I even left the apartment last night. Today is going to be hell and I only have myself to blame. Yes, I may have been cajoled into going out, but the drunken stupor that ensued from the night’s entertainment was entirely my fault. I should have stopped and come home early, but the inevitable happened and I got so drunk so fast that I forgot to be sensible and just went with the flow of the evening. We all danced our arses off in the back of the bar area for several hours as the dance floor was so densely populated, and we supplied ourselves only with tequila shots as hydration. Stupid and more bloody stupid, Beth.
I can’t deny it, though; we all had a fabulous night. I laughed until I cried on several occasions and had some pretty nice attention from several men, which helped loosen me up.
However, now it’s time to work and I have a little under an hour and a half to get up, shower, dress and get to Torrington Hall. Belle, I hate you. I squint one eye open and look at the clock. 7.30 am. God, it was 3.30am before I fell into bed. How on earth am I going to make it through the day? Gently, I edge my way to the side of the bed and swing my legs to the floor, hoping for salvation of some sort. I force myself upright and head for the bathroom. Salvation isn’t forthcoming in any way.
Grabbing my coat and bag, I head for the kitchen, thankfully feeling somewhat refreshed from my shower, and having applied makeup to make myself look more human, I realise that I don’t actually feel too bad anymore. That will undoubt
edly catch up with me later when I’m needed most.
“Belle,” I shout as I push the door open to her bedroom.
“Yep, wrong room, you dork,” Belle responds from the kitchen.
“Oh, you’re up!” I exclaim, completely mystified as to why she isn’t still snoozing her way until eleven. She doesn’t have to get there till one.
“Of course I am. We’ve got to be at Torrington in 45 minutes,” she says as she pinches her forehead and hangs her head.
“Oh, I didn’t know you were coming first thing?”
“Do you think I’d let you go on your own feeling like death when I pushed you to go out?” she replies as she raises her head again and looks into the mirror to apply her lipstick.
“You are by far the best sister ever.” I giggle as I pat her shoulder and walk across the lounge for my boots.
“I know, honey, but honestly, I’m so hung-over I’ll probably be no use whatsoever,” she says as she gets up and shrugs on her coat.
“Just being there will be enough. Thank you.” I smile.
“You’re welcome, honey. I can’t say Teresa will be quite so pleasant or care free about it though,” she huffs as she picks up the keys and switches off the lights in the kitchen.
“She’s coming, too? How did you manage that?”
“I gave her the phone number of John Dixon’s girlfriend. It made her more pliable. So she arranged some cover in the shop. God knows how she did that, though. I think she phoned Julia Stevens at two in the morning.”
“Wow, I bet that went down like a shit-storm, huh? I suppose we better get going then,” I reply in shock as I pick up my bag and open the door.
“Yep, but, honey, we must get coffee on the way. My head is in far too much pain because of the stupid amount of alcohol you made me drink, and without coffee, you know I will be completely useless.” She chuckles.
“Oh, yes, because it was definitely me pouring that stuff down your neck all night. Next time, though, I think we’ll go with the no tequila shots technique, or at least not so many of the bloody things in a row,” I reply with a snicker and a nudge as we head for the elevator.
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