by Measha Stone
"What did your mom do?" he asked quietly. Paul knew enough about her childhood, and he'd obviously mentioned it to Alex; there was no need to defend or explain her mother.
"She gave me an icepack."
"The scar on the back of your calf, I thought it was a birthmark at first."
She sighed. "No, it's not. I was much older with that one. It was worse, but I healed." She rubbed his arm and pulled her wrist from him. "I’ll heal this time too." She smiled softly at him. "I really need to get back to work."
She stood from the chair and took his face in her hands. "Don't worry about things you can't change." Her lips brushed across his, and she started to walk around him and from the room when he stopped her with his hand on her arm.
Before she could get away, he spun her around and slammed his mouth on hers in a hungry, possessive kiss. Like if he didn't have her that moment, he would combust.
As she began to melt into his hands, he pulled away and smirked down at her, satisfaction in his eyes. "You should get back to work. Enough dawdling." He gave her ass a playful swat.
She grumbled, but made her way to the door. She had work to do.
Just as she reached for the door, it flew open, nearly hitting her in the face. Bradley made a quick apology and turned his attention to Alex.
"We have a serious issue." Bradley waved papers at Alex as he entered the room. Her lips tugged at the corner as she closed the door. A lightness filled her, as though she’d been pumped full of helium.
Once the door was shut, she turned to head back to the bar. Trying to maneuver through the crowd of people just arriving, she managed to step on a man's foot.
"Oh. I'm so sorry," she apologized, spinning around to face her victim.
Stephen Manchester stared back at her with a wide-eyed, Cheshire cat grin.
"No problem, baby. No problem at all."
Chapter 15
"What's the problem?" Alex took the papers from Bradley and offered him a seat.
"The ledger." Bradley waved his hand at the papers, ignoring the seat and walking to where Alex kept his whiskey. "It's all kinds of fucked up."
Alex sat in his seat, grazing over the columns. "I can't really tell. I'd have to do a full audit. But what is it that has you worried?" He tossed it on the desk.
Bradley put his glass on Alex's desk and pointed to the second page. "These expenses. Recognize the names?"
Alex sat staring at the numbers and vendors listed. "Isn't that Travis's place up north? The little cabin in the woods or something? Why is it on our expense report?" Alex picked up the paper and peered over more of it. "And Salon 333? What the hell? Have you asked him about this?"
"No. How can I? The only time he's here is when he brings his party up for a play night. There are just as many discrepancies for John too. They never show up for the meetings and now they’re billing our company for all their playtime!" Bradley's eyes darkened as threw himself into the chair and downed the glass of whiskey. "We need to buy them out."
"I'd love to. But all my money is tied up here. The other two floors aren't making as much as we are, so the profits we are turning here are funding the other two—which I've been meaning to talk to you about. We need better management on those floors. Better reporting of sale daily totals and such. I know our priority has been Top Floor, but we do own the other floors as well. "
"Right. Let's try to get Travis and John to sit down about all four floors and not just Top Floor. I'm sure that will work. Those two need to go. Or at least they need to repay the company this money." Bradley leaned over and stabbed the papers with a pointed finger.
"Did you talk with the accountant yet? I thought we hired that firm to watch this kind of crap." Alex got up and walked over to get his own drink.
"I did. They said it wasn't their place to question the doings of the owners. I pulled the last three P&Ls with details and found more of the same. They've been bringing us general reports that only show office expenses, but not an itemized list. That's our stupidity. But that stops now." Bradley's voice hadn't risen in volume once since he’d burst into Alex's office. In fact, just the opposite. It had lowered, softened, remained completely level. Alex knew Bradley enough to know that was a very bad sign. He had reached his limit.
"Let's schedule a meeting with them. They can go over these expenses and we’ll give them a chance to offer to pay back the company. If they won't, we'll just take it out of their next distributions check," Alex said. He'd invested a lot of money into the club, and although he was getting a healthy return, he wouldn't tolerate theft.
Ending his advertising career to focus full time on the club had been rolling around his mind more and more recently. With the new information, it solidified his decision. He needed to focus on the club and really invest his time into it. It could be so much more with his full devotion. And not just Top Floor, the entire club as a whole. The dance floors made a little money, but weren't doing as well. The line to enter each night grew, but the door fee couldn't carry them. They needed more revenue inside as well.
"I'll get Sandra to set up a meeting," Bradley said, referring to his newly hired secretary. "Now, about the auction. I want to set it up for three weeks from tonight. Is that enough time to build interest?" Bradley's shoulders relaxed, and his brown eyes softened. The auction was his pet project he'd been trying to get going for months.
"Interest? A slave auction doesn't need much marketing around here." Alex laughed. "I just need the information on the charity and the details of the auction itself. Rules, regulations, all that. We have to be careful about liability. We don't need someone getting bought and then found half dead in an alley somewhere."
"Of course. I'll get the safety stuff all worked out. We’re raising money to fight domestic abuse. It wouldn't do to have any of the girls injured." Bradley cocked an eyebrow. "Uh…will you be partaking?" he asked.
Alex shook his head. "No."
"Did you tell her about the job opening?" Bradley asked with a wide grin.
"No, but she was looking at the posting when she came in today."
"If she applies?"
"If she applies, I expect you to give her the same consideration you give anyone else. No more or less." Alex gave him a pointed look.
"I'm not sure the staff will see it that way." Bradley stood from his chair, glass in hand. "But we'll cross that bridge when we get to it. I'm going to be honest, man, it's good to see you with a submissive again. Cutting crazy-pants loose was a good decision. You can't pretend to be what you're not."
Bradley was right. Breaking it off with his last girlfriend had been an excellent decision. He wouldn’t have been able to survive in the vanilla world she needed. It had been his first true attempt at a vanilla relationship, and he had mourned every moment of every day as they ticked away.
“No, you can’t,” Alex agreed.
“Things are going okay then? With Alyssa, I mean,” Bradley asked, pouring another drink from the wet bar.
Alex blew out a breath. “Well enough. I mean it when I said I don’t want her having any special treatment. It’s important.” He paused. “To both of us.”
Bradley tossed back the last of his whiskey and placed the glass down. “You got it. I’ll keep things all business while you…well, take care of business.” He gave a teasing wink before slipping out of the office.
Chapter 16
Alyssa stared into the light brown eyes of her ex-boyfriend and former Dominant.
"Stephen! What are you doing here?" Surprised to see him, she glanced around, checking if he had come up with friends.
"You aren't the only one who can leave Missouri, you know." He patted her cheek. She hated that particular gesture. It was what he did when he wanted her to feel small. She jerked her head away from his touch and forced a smile, knowing it probably didn't shine in her eyes.
Stephen had always known when she faked a grin. This time was no different.
"C'mon. I'll buy you a drink." He winked an
d tried to pull her from the crowd of people toward the bar.
She yanked her arm from his grip and shook her head. "I can't. I'm working. How about I get you a drink?" She needed to start work. She'd been there for almost an hour, and she'd been absent for most of it. The evening was in full swing and the number of people in the lounge area dwindled as couples made their way into the playrooms and larger scene areas. The crisp snap of single tails filled the room.
Brandon kept the music in the lounge low once the play began to get heavy. The erotic sounds of whips, paddles, and cries of pleasure mixed with the right amount of pain was all the music they needed.
Alyssa made her way to the bar; Stephen close on her heals. She picked up her tray and gestured toward Brandon.
"What'll it be?" she asked Stephen, watching the table behind him, searching for a waitress.
"You know," he said. Alyssa chose to ignore the glint in his eye and possessive stance he had taken—both hands on his belt, jaw firm. She called over to Brandon for a gin and tonic.
"It'll be right up. I have to grab this table. I'll be right back." She patted his arm and maneuvered around to the small group behind him.
What was he doing in Chicago? He hated traveling. Maybe he came to check up on her, but he could have just called. She hadn't heard from him since she arrived in the city. Just before leaving home, she’d ran into him at the post office and had let him know she was moving up north. It couldn't be avoided since she had been holding a change of address card at the time.
"Hey!" Stephen called to her as she whizzed by him the third time to fill an order. She held up one finger to indicate she'd be right back and took off again.
Finally, after making her way around the room, she met him back at the bar. A full glass sat in front of him, and she wondered how many he'd downed.
"Sorry." She smiled. "Busy night."
He gave her a lazy grin. "It's really good to see you, Ally Cat." He ran his fingertips down her arm, stopping at the bandage on her wrist. "Too much playtime?" He winked, and she shook her head.
"No. Grease fire." She kept her eyes on her tables, watching to see if anyone needed anything. Thankfully, there wasn't a private party booked for the night, so she didn't have to split her time between the lounge and party room.
"Any playtime? I bet not. You work too hard. How about we go back into the play space? I'll get my bag from the car and we can have us a really good time." His words drawled out as he managed to stand from the stool. Wonderful. He was drunk.
Knowing the game all too well, she shook her head. "I can't. I'm working."
"You are always working. That's your problem, Ally Cat. You work too much—and for too little." He cupped her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. "All that work-work-work, and you're still just a waitress." His words bit at her, but she did her best to remain stoic. She'd heard these things before from him, especially after he'd had a few. One of the reasons she'd broken up with him was his inability to hold his liquor, or to even admit it. Telling him that at the time would have been a wasted effort, though. Their incompatibility as Dom and sub was more than enough reason for them to call it quits.
Alyssa pulled her chin out of his grasp and took a step back. "I have to get back to work, Stephen. If you need something, Brandon will be happy to take your order."
"What, you found someone better?” He gave a short laugh. "Look, Ally Cat, I know you haven’t gotten serious with anyone since we broke up. You've played—oh, I saw those a few times back home…you should just admit you need me and come back." He reached for a lock of her hair, and she sidestepped to get away from his grasp. In doing so, she stepped on another foot, and turned to apologize.
Alex's glare met her, and she swallowed hard. His irritation wasn't at her, she was sure of that, but she still didn't like to see it in his otherwise soft eyes.
"You okay?" he asked softly.
“Yes. Fine.”
He turned his attention to Stephen, who stared at him with a half-opened mouth. "Brandon, would you mind calling downstairs and having a cab held for Mr. Manchester?" While Alex spoke, he moved himself to stand between Alyssa and Stephen.
"Who's this?" Stephen asked, trying to look at her over Alex's shoulder.
"Her boyfriend. Don't worry about your tab, it's on the house tonight." Alex put an arm out, pointing toward the exit—an attempt to usher him out quietly.
Stephen wasn't accommodating. "I'm not ready to go just yet, but thanks." He reached for his glass on the bar, but Brandon managed to pluck it up before his fingers made contact. Stephen dropped his hand to his side and let out a long breath.
"Stephen, maybe you should go." Alyssa motioned toward the exit from behind Alex.
"You know, you never could follow directions," Stephen retorted, then turned his glare to Alex. "I'll see myself out, thank you." He brushed past Alex and stumbled to the elevators.
"Are you all right?" Alex asked once the elevator had taken Stephen away. The concern in his eyes confused her. Surely, he didn't think she couldn't handle Stephen.
"Of course, I am. It was just Stephen. I would have handled it." She put her hands on her hips and stared up at him.
"I know," He stated. "But you didn't need to." His words hung between them. She didn't have to take care of it herself, because he would come to her rescue. He would be her backup. He wouldn't allow people like Stephen to screw with her head or her life.
Uncharted territory for her.
"Okay," she finally said. He continued to stare down at her, but the slight upturn of his lips led her to believe he was finding the situation no longer critical. "Were you looking for me?" she asked when he remained silent.
"No. Actually, I was looking for Kerri. Travis is going to be stopping in with a few of his friends again. They’ll limit themselves to the large party room, and I told him there wouldn’t be any staff to see to their needs. We need to set up a small bar for them in there. If they want to order something from the kitchen, Travis is going to have to handle it himself."
Alyssa had only dealt with Travis a few times, but she couldn't imagine him being okay with such a setup. He was part owner of the club. If he told her get him a drink, she wasn't sure she'd be able to tell him no.
Alex must have sensed her unease. "If he gives any of you any trouble, come get me or Bradley."
Kerri appeared at Alyssa's side. He repeated the situation to her, and once she had given her agreement, made his way back to his office.
Alyssa couldn't help but feel a little shrugged off when he didn't even touch her arm as he walked off. She caught Brandon's smirk when she looked up.
"What?" she demanded.
"Boyfriend?" He leaned across the bar. "Why didn't you tell me you were dating Alex?" he asked, humor in his gaze.
"Seriously?" Kerri looked over at her with an open-mouthed smile. "Really?"
"Uhhh…that's why I didn't say anything," Alyssa grumbled, stepping forward to grab her tray from the bar top.
"No. No." Brandon hurriedly waved his hand at her. "It's a good thing. That man needs something more stable—someone more stable."
Kerri joined in as well. "I think it's awesome, hon."
"I don't want everyone thinking I got this job—"
"Oh, please!" Brandon scoffed. "Half the waitresses here have been playthings for Bradley. The other half are in line for the opportunity. And he's the one who handles staffing and all that garbage."
"Oh." Alyssa relaxed. "Isn't that against policy or something?"
"Meh." Kerri shrugged. "It's all done off hours, so no one cares. Besides, Bradley is all business in and out of the playroom. Once he steps into his office, it's all club work. Whatever happens in the playroom stays there."
"We better get that party room set up. Travis can be a real dick when he doesn't get support staff for his little parties," Kerri warned as she pulled Alyssa her toward the large party room.
"So, tell me about that hunk of a man Alex threw out of the
club." Kerri threw the doors open to the party room.
Alyssa hesitated. “Just an ex.” Not exactly professional to drag drama to work.
Kerri paused. “I’ve had those. The ones who don’t realize it ended even though you were damn clear it had? Yeah, had my fair share.”
“I’m not really sure what he’s in town for,” Alyssa said. It had been a clean breakup, no drawn-out fight or lingering bad feelings.
“Maybe it’s nothing then.” Kerri grabbed a tablecloth from the supply closet in the room.
Alyssa wheeled the drink cart from the closet and brought it over to the bar. “Yeah, probably not.” If the bowling ball weighing down her chest would let up some, she might have actually believed herself. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
If only saying the words out loud made them true.
Chapter 17
Alex looked at the time. Nearly the end of her shift.
He hoped she wasn't too beat to have some fun when they got home. He had a few ideas of what he wanted to do with her body, and she would need her strength. First, he wanted to talk with her about Stephen. Alyssa had made her ex out to be harmless, but the asshole he'd encountered that evening had not given that impression.
He had wanted to ask Bradley if he knew him at all, but he'd called it a night and was off somewhere in the playroom. Alex wasn't about to ruin Bradley's evening on account of the little weasel, nor did he want him ruining his own evening, but he needed to be sure Alyssa hadn't been affected by the ass's presence in the club. He'd ban him for good if he was going to cause her any discomfort.
He'd heard Stephen's remark about Alyssa's job and gave himself credit for not shoving her aside and punching him in the face. The comment pissed him off, but what worried him was how easily she took the insult, like it wasn't the first time and she was just going through motions. She didn't defend herself or even look all that angry. She simply took it from him like there wasn’t another choice. Had she been surrounded by a crowd of complete fucking idiots her whole life?