“If the pay here weren’t so damn good I’d fuckin’ be out of here right now,” scratchy voice says. Shit was he really that bad?
“Did you know Carly says he’s in the Spanish mob or something? You ever notice people that he fires are never around again, like I mean never around anywhere, ever?” Accent says.
“Mob, like you think he’s having them killed? Carmen, you’re nuts- he’s awful, horrible even, but murder…. No way!”
Accent snorts, “You’re so naive Kate, in my country people are killed for much less, life has no value in Columbia. You’re just a warm body here to do what the boss wants, and if you’re lucky you get to go home to your family at night.” Wow, Carmen is full of educational information. Note to self, never fucking go to Columbia, and where have I heard that comment about being a warm body before? Must be a speech Evan makes regularly, and not just to me.
“Well, that’s Columbia not Washington, and nobody’s going to kill me if I get a new menu item wrong. I just don’t believe that shit.”
“Suit yourself, but if I ever disappear, you pack your bags and run far away, I’m telling you,” accent says, very seriously. Scratchy doesn’t respond and I imagine her mouth hanging open in shock at the thought of her friend being murdered. They finish up, taking a long time washing their hands and drying them. Either they’re stretching out a break or the beast has the idea of cleanliness burned into every fiber of their being. God they wash a long time, my legs are actually starting to become numb. When they exit I let myself down and pee, while I try to make sense of this new information. Mob. Maybe it’s just denial but I’m with Kate. No way is Evan in any mob, is there any such thing as a Spanish-based mob? He does have an awfully extravagant home though. No. He said his aunt left him money, and I choose to believe and trust that explanation. I wonder where Aunt Sophia got her wealth; I’ll have to ask Evan.
Chapter 17
“Goya’s Nightmare” by Jocelyn Pook
I slip into Evans office, no more employee run-ins. I think they must all be in the kitchen now, or out front as it’s nearly time for lunch. Evan is on the phone, and I return to my spot on the couch, checking out the decor of his office. It’s big of course, that’s a given. No windows back here, the lighting is dim, other than the light on his desk. A fireplace, much, much smaller than the one at his house, burns gas in the corner. An entire wall of mahogany book shelves are built into the walls behind Evan’s desk, all the contents protected by glass panels covering each shelf. There is nothing on those shelves that appears to be for pleasure reading, they hold business books, manuals for Dominus, training information. This is his version of a filing cabinet, just incredibly organized and visually pleasing to the eye. Evan’s office is another space of clinical cleanliness I note, along with the smell of cinnamon and maybe clove. I think I smelled the same scent in his house, he has an interesting taste in scents. Finishing his call, he hangs up and announces he’s ready to give me a tour of Dominus.
“Let’s go have a look around. Isaac better have things in order.”
“Or what?” I ask, seriously wanting to know, but I think he takes it as teasing.
“Or I’ll fire him, everybody else in the place and burn it to the ground with them all in it.”
I look up at him, mouth gaping apparently, as I work to remove his leg from the pillows. He reaches out to me and puts his finger under my chin, closing my mouth. “Joking Mia, I’m joking.” He dips his head, looking up at me through his eyelashes to make sure I understand. I shake my head a little, shaking off my shock. If I hadn’t overheard Accent and Scratchy earlier, I probably would have laughed that comment off for what it was, a joke. Evan keeps his eyes trained on me as I help him up; he’s gotten the hang of the crutches quickly and doesn’t need much more from me other than to open the door. Pausing outside his office, he points toward the right and we walk together down a hall that opens into…. well…. heaven…. white, everywhere. We stand together on a balcony of sorts, looking down on the dining room. There are tables covered with white linen cloths, white carpet, and white chairs and walls; the only color is a small arrangement of lavender roses in the center of each table. I inhale a sharp gasp when I see the chandelier that spans the entire room, like sparkling rain drops falling from the ceiling. It’s the main light source for the room, dim, intimate, romantic and breathtaking. A few tables are already occupied, and another couple is being seated.
“Oh Evan…it’s… I’m speechless really.” His eyes sparkle with pride and satisfaction as he watches me take it all in. Smiling, and completely satisfied with my reaction, he indicates with a quick motion of his chin where the entrance is, and which direction the kitchen is in and I can literally not speak, I just nod.
“We can’t go down to the dining room this way, I can’t maneuver the stairs.” There’s a solid white curved staircase that leads from this landing right into the center of the dining area.
“Is there an elevator?” I’ve finally found my voice.
“Yes, this way.” We turn around and go back the way we came. An elevator takes us down to the kitchen where the staff are all immediately timid, anxious and apprehensive. A hush falls over the room, and I feel the tension immediately. Cooks avert their eyes, back to their masterpieces, the waitresses scurry around readying dishes, going in and out of the kitchen.
One brave and beautiful Latina woman approaches, clutching her hands in front of her. She’s dressed in a cream-colored outfit that is very well tailored, it’s a very expensive looking pantsuit that fits perfectly in all the right places, and her silky black hair is gathered into a loose chignon. “Mr. Lawson, I’m so relieved to see you back. How are you feeling, can I get you anything? Would you like to look over the reservations for this afternoon and tonight? Things should be in perfect order.” She rushes the information, rattled but apparently used to anticipating his needs.
“Maria I’m fine, just a broken leg and yes, I’d like to see what’s going on today.”
She actually takes a step back from Evan as if she had just been slapped, and begins to stutter, “Ah…ok…ok then let’s go out front.” What is her problem? His tone wasn’t threatening, he responded appropriately…didn’t he? Maybe that’s it…from what I heard in the restroom he’s usually an intolerable ass…. is the Evan I’ve come to know so different than the one they are used to? He’s irritating and rude at times, but I’ve never been intimidated or frightened of him. The MRI…. we really need to get that done and see what’s going on. I wonder if he’s had some sort of personality change since the accident, from the reactions I just witnessed, reasonable and agreeable are not normal traits of Mr. Evan Lawson.
I continue to observe the gorgeous pair talking about endless celebrity reservations and wines that are on backorder until Evan turns to me. “Ready?” He’s looking tired, I know he’ll never admit it, but we need to get to the hospital and back home before he makes up an excuse not to go.
“Um, Mr. Lawson, there are some repair receipts that need your signature in the club, would you like me to get them for you?” Maria asks. I get the sense she’s next in line after Isaac in the ranks of Dominus employees.
“No, we can get them, it’ll give me a chance to show Mia around,” he replies. I feel Maria’s tension easing ever so slightly, maybe she thinks of me as a buffer? Well if so, good. Seems like she could use a break.
“All right, if you’re sure, I’ll keep you updated on every detail.”
“Yes Maria, do that.” Still no thank you, Geesh. We pass through double doors off the main foyer of Dominus and into the club. A mammoth fish tank, like none I’ve ever seen monopolizes the wall behind the bar. I imagine sitting at the bar would feel like being submerged in the ocean; salt-water fish swim in schools, with none of the constrictions of a small tank. There are five small, raised areas scattered among maybe twenty or thirty small table and chair sets. A huge stage monopolizes the side of the club opposite the bar. Several thick aerial silks hang from
the ceiling, a theatre-sized screen is mounted behind the rear of the stage, and a giant bowl full of water large enough for a person to swim in fill the space. What on earth happens here, Cirque du Solei?
Music plays softly throughout the room, strange music. Forest sounds, rhythmic drums and a haunting woman’s voice sings in a foreign language. I look at Evan with raised eyebrows, the unspoken question on my face.
“Jocelyn Pook, Goya’s Nightmare.”
“Oh…I’ve never heard music like this before,” I say softly, listening to the unfamiliar chanting.
“No, I’m sure not,” he agrees.
“What kind of club is this?” I’m curious about what the platforms are used for although I have some idea.
“Entertainment, sort of an adult version of Cirque de Solei,” he answers casually, making his way past the entrance closing the doors and further to a tall desk. Ha, I knew it! Well the Cirque de Solei part, I don’t know about the adult part, strippers perhaps? He signs some forms that have been conveniently left on a stone desk where he will not have to search for them. Looking up, our eyes meet and he reaches out to me, I step to him, it’s almost completely dark where he stands, and the only light is a glowing blue hue from the fish tank. Balancing on his crutches, he places his hands on either side of my face and quietly instructs me to close my eyes again. Narrowing my eyes for a moment in hesitation but then closing them as he has asked, I hear him inhale deeply through his nose, breathing me in and exhaling with a contented sigh.
“Can you feel it, the way the music flows through you, without sight your other senses are heightened.” I reach to touch his face and he turns his cheek into my hand. The music’s timbre is dark and eerie at times, but the rhythm is contagious, and strangely intimate. The magnetic connection between us is pulling stronger than ever as I step closer. Keeping my eyes closed, I touch his face slowly, tracing his cheekbone, the corner of his mouth and the edge of his eye, brushing the pad of my thumb over his long, thick lashes. I feel his pulse quicken when I skim over his neck and rest my hands on his chiseled chest. He accepts my exploring touch naturally, I move into him and he envelopes me in his arms and holds me around the waist, almost completely standing on one foot, his crutches propped against his body under his arms while the music pulsates around us. Without warning, Evan lifts me onto the tall stone desk behind me- he actually lifts me, balancing on one foot and propped on his crutches.
“Evan!” I gasp and protest simultaneously, but he is shaking his head back and forth, moving between my legs. His smirk has returned and it’s over for me. I’m completely helpless, I can’t move or speak, or even breathe as he smooths his hands down my neck and over my breasts pebbling under my thin sweater. I instinctively arch into his touch and he lowers his mouth over mine, kissing me deeply and penetrating my mouth with a desire that mimics the music that surrounds us. My hands suddenly remember how to move and trembling, I slide my fingers into his hair and take hold, the music picks up tempo and our mouths respond equally. Evan unbuttons the front of my sweater slowly, never breaking contact with my mouth. A tiny voice in the back of my mind reminds me that we’re in a public place, that while we’re alone, someone could walk in at any moment. Shut up! I tell my inner voice. He pushes the sweater off of my shoulders, his hands traveling down my arms, around to my bare back where he skillfully unhooks my bra, the bra he had Cecelia choose for me. He removes my hands from his hair to slip the sweater the rest of the way off. Peeking, I see he still has his eyes closed, as he pulls away from me just long enough to move his warm mouth to my breast. A hitch of breath escapes me as he ravishes one and then the other with his tongue, traveling down my belly and nipping and kissing a trail down to my navel. His hands leave me suddenly and I hear scraping on the floor, my eyes snap open. I see Evan has somehow moved a chair I hadn’t seen before close to the desk, and he sits with his face directly level with my belly, oh God. Reaching up, he gently brushes his hand over my eyes, and closing them again I feel my other senses sharpen immediately. The music has changed to something very similar; it’s the same artist I think, just a different rhythm softer, slower. Without thinking, I resume threading my fingers through his soft, dark hair while he returns to licking and kissing around my belly button, causing me to suck in my tummy. I whimper as he traces the skin at the top of my jeans with just his fingertips. Beginning to unfasten my jeans, he stops abruptly and I again open my eyes.
“Are you ok…is this ok?” he asks, with concern in his eyes. They’re nearly black now, with only a rim of bright green.
“Yes…. please..” I beg, and he begins to work my jeans off.
“Lift,” he instructs, and I place my palms flat on the desk, lifting my body as he peels them off, panties included, and drops them on the floor, my shoes drop with a light clatter. “The door is locked, no one will come in,” he reassures me as I sit naked before him on the cold desk, completely at his mercy, open and vulnerable. Miraculously, not to mention oddly, I have no inhibition, none. I watch as he caresses me with his hands, from my ass, down my thighs to my knees, and spreading my legs wide. Kissing the sensitive skin between my legs lazily from each knee to my core, he stops and repeats the torture until I’m dizzy, breathless and wet, desperate for release.
“You’re so wet for me Mia,” he says, right before dipping two fingers into my folds and groaning. I gasp, and he pulls me to the edge of the desk roughly with his other hand forcing me to lay back and support my upper body with my elbows, bowing his head between my legs and licking from behind all the way up to my clit with one sweep. Gasping again, I instinctively clamp my legs together. He repeats the process of spreading my legs with my knees, opening me wide and giving a little sharp jerk that clearly says don’t move. I grip his hair tightly as he alternates circling my clit and licking my outer folds with his expertly skilled tongue. I thrust my hips forward, offering myself up to him, an orgasm building quickly with every electrifying movement of his tongue. He grips my ass on both sides, tilting me up fractionally and I lose control and come violently.
“Oh God… Evan!” I yell, as my body clenches and pulses violently with the first orgasm given to me by a man, ten years of unrealized lust and passion released. I relax my hold on his hair as I come down from ecstasy and Evan props his arms on my thighs and looks up at me through his beautiful long eyelashes.
“I’ve wanted to do that from the moment I heard your voice, when I was in the dark.” “What if I had been an ugly 300 lb. ogre with a sexy voice?” I ask playfully, I can’t believe I’m teasing him while I’m spread naked on a check in desk in his club while he’s fully dressed!
“I knew you weren’t, no one with that voice could be anything but angelic…you were my angel pulling me out of the darkness. I was ready to go you know, there was nothing holding me here. I’d done all I had set out to do in my life, honored my aunt, and I was ready to die.” Stunned by this admission, I stare at his beautiful face. How could such a vital, successful, loving man be finished living, be ready to give up?
“Oh Evan.” I pull him close, his head against my belly, and wrap my arms and legs around him as I lay my cheek on top of his head. “Why? How could you consider giving up? You’re young and strong, you have more than most people could ever imagine!” Dragging my fingers through his hair, I can feel him frown against my skin.
“My life is one dark, fucked up disaster after another. You know nothing about me Mia, hell I don’t even know everything about me, but if you did you’d run. When I’m with you I feel…. Naked- my soul, my spirit exposed. Everything I’ve ever secretly yearned for, everything I’ve ever dreamed of but that I had no hope of having because of my past, you see it, you see me.” Wow is an understatement; this man has serious feelings for me. I knew we had a physical magnetism, but didn’t dare to allow myself to consider real feelings. I wanted that, deep down I always had. All of my adult life I’ve wanted a relationship with a man, to have a partner to walk through life with, to be a best friend to an
d devote my life to. Just like Evan I have secret wishes, ones I gave up on long ago. I never thought my fear could dissipate enough to allow any man into my heart…until now. We’re very much alike in one way, damaged. “Stay with me,” he pleads.
“I will,” I whisper, and he begins to untangle himself from me, dressing me and not allowing me to help, he buttons, clasps and zips me into my clothes and tenderly slips on each of my shoes. Next on our agenda, the hospital.
Chapter 18
“Give Me What I Want” by Avril Lavigne
Evan is quiet; maybe he’s tired, maybe he’s thinking about what just happened at Dominus and all the things he said to me, maybe he regrets it all. This makes me worry, a skill I have perfected. This relationship, or whatever it is, has started to go in a direction that I have to admit I wanted it to from the beginning. But I’m having trouble believing a man like Evan could really care about me. Can this all be real? I have no idea who Evan was before the accident, and what little I do know now is complicated. What if his current personality is temporary, something related to his brain injury? What if he changes back into the beast as his employees referred to him at the restaurant? This way of thinking isn’t helping me, but this whole thing is so tangled. I’m supposed to be this man’s nurse, but so many lines have been crossed? Somehow I have to find a way to separate the attraction from the professional aspect of the situation. Yea right…caring for someone intimately suggests a personal relationship, what happened between us at Dominus and in the shower this morning suggests a very personal relationship. Him not wanting me to leave his side, professing his feelings, all of those things make me feel that this is serious but what if it all changes? I’ve seen little signs of the old Evan, the one I don’t think I ever want to know, like when he dismisses me abruptly, the way his employees seem terrified of him, there are red flags waving all over the place yet I keep trying to hide my eyes. I’m relieved and scared at the same time while we wait for his MRI. If it’s all clear, I’ll be reassured that what is happening between us won’t go up in a puff of smoke one day, leaving me brokenhearted and alone. I’ve been alone for as long as I can remember, and I was content. But since Evan landed like a meteor in my life, I feel a completeness that I wasn’t aware I needed so badly. If he were taken from me, my old life wouldn’t be enough. I’ve never been thorough a break up because I’ve never had a relationship, but somehow I know losing Evan would be devastating, I can feel it in the very essence of me that some part of me a big part of me, needs him, craves him, would not survive without him…and this is not good. I need to stop thinking about it, so I throw myself into my “job” so to speak. Helping Evan change into a hospital gown in a small room outside MRI, I continue to assess his mood, catching his eye occasionally. I actually feel like maybe he’s thinking the same thing…does he know he used to be a total dick, that people are afraid of him; is he worried too?
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