by Levine, Nina
She nodded again but her eyes betrayed her; she didn’t believe what I’d said for one second.
“Let me guess, this shit goes on often and you keep going back for more. You’re worth more than that scumbag piece of shit. If you start believing that one day and need help to get back on your feet, you come see me. Until then, I fucking hope you survive the next round because, let me tell you, it’s just gonna keep coming till you decide to put a stop to it.”
I stood back up and left her there. There was nothing else to say; no-one could do for this chick what she needed to do for herself. My breath would be wasted if I kept talking; kinda like with my mother.
“All sorted,” I said to Velvet as I walked past her on my way back to Harlow.
Harlow and her friend were at the bar chatting with Amy. I let my gaze drop to Harlow’s ass as she leant over the counter to tell Amy something. Tonight she was wearing a black dress that barely covered anything and clung to her curves in all the right fucking places. And fuck, she had some serious curves going on. I didn’t do really skinny chicks; I didn’t see the point if they’ve got nothing to grip on to. My eyes trailed down her legs; long legs that would feel good around me. And those heels she was wearing? Fuck, I’d like to take everything else off and just leave those in place; my back would love them digging into it while I pumped into her.
She looked up at me as I approached. “So, you’re the boss here? I think you should give me a job. Amy tells me you need staff and I’m unemployed. As you know.”
I didn’t miss the emphasis on that last sentence, and was sure to throw Amy a dirty look. Harlow would be as suited to this job as a nun would be to a prostitute.
“You’ve had one too many drinks, sweetheart, and have no clue what you’re saying at the moment. You don’t want to work here.”
She planted her hands on her hip, and gave me what I imagined was her best ‘you’ve got to be kidding’ look. “You don’t know anything about me. How do you know where I want to work?”
“I know enough to know that you wouldn’t cope with men leering at you and pawing you while you served them drinks.”
“You might be surprised. I’ve met some assholes in my time and I’ve put them in their place.”
“I’m sure you have, but the answer’s still no. I don’t need to be worrying about you all the time.”
“No-one asked you to worry about me.”
“Christ, do you ever take no for an answer?” I asked; irritation battling with a slight sense of respect.
“No. So give me the damn job already.”
Amy drew her breath in and Nash stepped forward and touched Harlow on the arm. “Sweet thing, I think he’s made himself clear.”
“Yeah, I’ve made myself really fucking clear,” I growled.
Harlow shook him off, and stepped closer to me, her green eyes hard. “I don’t get you. I need a job, you need staff, it’s a no brainer. All I’m asking for is an interview...”
“Are you fucking finished?” I roared, fury dripping from my words.
She stiffened, and moved her hand to her throat. Those greens of hers widened for a second before she narrowed them and replied, “Yes.”
She made a move to step away from me but I reached out and grabbed her hard by the wrist to stop her. “I don’t owe you a fucking explanation but you’re going to get one anyway. I do need staff but I would prefer experienced staff. And staff who are suited to working in a strip club. When I say I don’t have a job for you, it’s because I don’t believe you’d enjoy it and I don’t think it would be a good fit for you.” I let her go, and said to Amy, “Can you make sure these two get in a cab?”
Amy nodded. “Sure.”
Giving Harlow one last look, I said, “You don’t belong in a place like this. Go home, sleep those drinks off and find a nice job, far away from here.”
I left them all standing there and stalked to the office. My mind was overwhelmed. Between my father, Indigo, Blade, Black Deeds and other Storm business, I was buckling under the pressure. Harlow prancing in here with her fucking curves, attitude and inclination to challenge me at all stops was something I was unable to deal with tonight.
And fuck it, I still wanted a taste of her.
Chapter 8
Harlow
Was that a jackhammer? The noise coming from outside my house was so freaking loud that I thought my skull might explode. I slowly opened my eyes and pain tore through my head as the light was allowed in. Scrunching them shut again, I prayed for the pain to end. It didn’t; it only intensified.
Bloody hell, I was never, ever drinking again.
The noise from outside sounded again, along with a, “Harlow!”
I sat up in bed, the pain ricocheting from side to side at my sudden movement. That sounded like Scott. I threw the sheet off me and slowly got out of bed. My hand flew to my head to try and hold it; if I could keep it still it wouldn’t hurt as much. That was my theory anyway. Hangovers weren’t something I often dealt with; I’m sure that made it feel worse.
On second thoughts, maybe I should drink more often.
“Harlow! You in there?” Yep, definitely Scott.
I made my way to the front door because I was sure he would keep banging and yelling until I did. When I finally opened the door, the sun smacked me in the face and I winced as I tried to cover my eyes with my hand.
“Fuck,” Scott muttered, and I parted two fingers so I could peer at him through the slit. His eyes were focused on my legs and then they lazily moved up to my face, lingering on my breasts as they went. A jolt of electricity shot through me. Scott Cole’s eyes undressing me made me wet. His hands ripping my clothes off would surely make me scream.
“Do you always answer your door wearing nothing?” he demanded roughly, stepping into my house and moving me out of the way so that he could shut the door behind us.
I looked down at what I was wearing. Bloody hell, he was right. I was only wearing my thong and a tiny tank. Swallowing my mortification, I carried on as if this was a normal occurrence even though it was as far from my usual behavior as you could get.
“Do you always wake people up by banging on their door and yelling at them? Especially when you know that they would have a hangover and need complete silence to get through the day?”
He smirked, so I smacked him in the arm, and then sashayed my way down the hall; making sure to give him an eyeful of my bare ass. I figured I may as well work with the situation at hand even if it wasn’t what I would have chosen. The noise he made as he sucked in a breath was almost enough to make up for my embarrassment.
When I reached the end of the hall, I pointed left towards the kitchen. “You go in there and I’ll be with you in a minute.” Turning right, I hurried to my bedroom so I could put some clothes on. My head was hammering, I felt queasy, and I was still annoyed at the way he spoke to me last night, but I couldn’t deny the excitement bubbling through me that Scott was in my house.
A couple of minutes later, dressed more appropriately in shorts, a t-shirt and a bra, I found him with his head in the fridge. He heard me and stuck his head out, looking at me, body still bent over. “You got any cold water in here?”
I shook my head. “No, I don’t drink cold water.”
“Juice?”
“No.”
He shut the fridge, grabbed a glass out of the dish rack, filled it with water from the tap and brought it to me. Then he walked back to the kitchen bench where he’d put his keys. I sat at the table, wondering what he was doing, but as my brain was very slow this morning, the answer wasn’t coming to me fast. Picking up his keys, he said, “I’ll be back with juice.”
I guzzled some water; the coolness of it against my dry throat felt so good. Without really raising my lips from the glass, I nodded and said, “Thanks, that’d be good.” I was struggling, and forming words into sentences was too freaking hard; our conversation was going to be limited today but so far he didn’t seem to care.
While he was gone, I contemplated trying to make myself look better. I even went so far as to drag myself into the bathroom and brush my hair and teeth. However, that was the extent of my effort. I had no doubt I’d regret this when I was feeling better.
Ten minutes later he strode through my front door with bags of groceries and a determined look on his face.
“I thought you were just getting juice.”
“Babe, you need more than juice,” he stated as he handed me a banana, “Eat this, and then I’ve got some Gatorade for you to drink.”
“I don’t think I could stomach a banana, Scott.”
“Eat it, it’ll help get rid of your headache.”
Oh, so bossy.
I watched him as I peeled the banana. He moved around my kitchen like it was his own, putting drinks in the fridge and adding more bananas to the fruit bowl. Not only had he bought me Gatorade and bananas, he’d also stocked me up on juice and coconut water.
“How the heck does a man like you know these things?” It could have just been my fried brain, but Scott didn’t strike me as someone who would know what foods and drinks helped with sickness. There he was, dressed in jeans, big black boots, a tight black t-shirt, and his biker jacket. He had tattoos all over his arms and chunky silver rings on his fingers; he had that scary hot look about him. It was the kind of look that blazed a warning to me to stay away for the safety of my heart. Why, oh why, did God bring hot, sexy men into my life that were clearly not made for me?
He stopped what he was doing and gave me his full attention. “A man like me?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest while he waited for my reply.
“Well, you’re a biker - ” He raised his eyebrows. Shit, where were my freaking words today? “What I meant to say is, you don’t come off as the type of man who would know that bloody bananas get rid of headaches.” I was completely flustered now, and the banana would have no shot at clearing my headache because I’d just made it ten times worse.
“Yeah babe, I’m a biker but I’m not fucking ignorant. I do know things, for instance, that bananas help with hangovers.”
I buried my head in my hands. This day had just started and I was already making a mess of it. Taking a deep breath, I looked up at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“Takes a lot more than that to offend me. Now eat that banana. I’ve got shit to talk to you about and I need you thinking straight.”
I did as I was told while racking my brain trying to figure out what the heck he could want to talk to me about. He cleared the banana peels into the bin and brought me a Gatorade before sitting across from me at the table. I couldn’t help staring at his arms as he folded them in front of him. Arms were it for me; the first thing I noticed about a guy, and I’d noticed Scott’s that first day I’d met him. I quickly decided that he must spend a lot of time in the gym; he was built, and I bet if I were to reach out and touch him, he would be rock hard.
“My eyes are up here,” he drawled, and when I lifted my eyes to his, I took in the sexy grin plastered on his face.
He knew how he was affecting me; no doubt he had the ladies lined up. Not being able to come up with a witty comeback, I did the only thing that came to mind. I poked my tongue at him. Yeah, real mature, but he did things to me; one of them being that he screwed with my mind and turned me into a hot mess, unable to process my thoughts quickly.
He surprised me by laughing. It was one of those genuine laughs that made his eyes crinkle, and that sent another jolt through me. Crinkled eyes were another turn on for me. Weird, I know, but there was just something about a man whose laughter touched his whole body. It was all tied up with my feelings about family, happiness and my desire to build a life with a man who also valued those things. Crinkled eyes symbolised those things to me.
I took a sip of Gatorade and waited for him to talk. He indicated for me to drink more so I did. Finally he spoke. “The job’s yours if you want it.”
I nearly spat my drink all over him. “What? Why?” Again, sentences were not forthcoming.
“I was a dick to you last night. You were right; I don’t know you. If you say you can handle asshole customers, I’ll give you a shot.”
Right. Dick last night. Asshole customers. Another shot. I churned through these thoughts much faster; the banana must be working. And then another thought occurred to me.
“How did you know where I live?”
“I asked Amy. You gave her your address last night to give to the cabbie. Now babe, focus, because I’ve got another appointment to get to. Do you want the job or not?”
“Are you always this bossy?”
“Yeah, it gets shit done.”
“No, I meant with women. Do you boss every woman around that you meet?”
“I meet a lot of women, and yeah, I boss them around. But if you’re asking whether I boss around the women whose homes I visit and who flash their ass at me on that visit, I couldn’t tell you because I’ve never visited a woman at her home before.”
There was that crinkle at his eyes again; the one that gave me butterflies in my stomach. He was watching me intently and it put me even more off my game.
“Well, just for the record, I’ve never flashed my ass at a man I just met. Not until today, anyway.”
Oh, good Lord, his eyes crinkled even more if that was possible, and then he smiled which brought out his dimple, and I was completely gone. “I get that about you, babe. I’ve no doubt that if you weren’t hungover, I wouldn’t have been treated to any of what I’ve seen this morning.”
Of course, just at a crucial moment in the conversation, my phone started ringing. It was where I’d left it last night, on the kitchen bench, and Scott stood up straight away to retrieve it. He grinned at me as he passed it to me. I wasn’t sure why he was grinning like that so I ignored it and checked to see who was calling. Seeing that it was Cassie, my friend who took me out last night, I hit the button to silence the phone. She was a have-a-chat and would keep me on the phone for ages. Placing the phone on the table, I looked up to find Scott leaning against the bench with his arms folded, still grinning at me.
“What’s so funny?” I asked.
“What the fuck is that song you’ve got for a ring tone?”
“Holding Out For A Hero by Bonnie Tyler. Why, what’s wrong with it?” I asked, indignantly. I loved that song.
“How old is that song?”
“So I like songs from the eighties. I also love the nineties. You got something to say about that?”
He held up his hands in a defensive gesture. “Wouldn’t dare, babe.”
“Good. Now, about this job. I don’t know what I was thinking last night. It must have been the alcohol. I don’t want to work in a strip club, sorry. But thank you for making the effort to come here.”
He nodded, and then pushed off from the bench. “That’s what I figured, but thought I’d let you make that call.” He checked his watch. “I’ve got to head.”
I followed him down the hall, to the front door, making sure to check out his ass as I walked behind him. I figured I’d never get to see it again, so may as well enjoy it while I could. It was just my luck though, that he whipped around to face me just as he stepped outside, and caught the direction of my stare.
Chuckling again, he reminded me, “My eyes are up here.”
Throwing caution to the wind, I muttered, “Yeah, but they’re nowhere near as nice to look at.” Holy shit, I couldn’t believe I actually said that. I never flirted that openly with a man; usually I was too shy.
A slow smile formed across his face. “Never met anyone like you. You continue to surprise the shit outta me.”
I smiled back. “Yeah, well I’ve never met anyone like you either.”
“Later, sweetheart,” he said, and left me standing there, drinking in the sexiness that was Scott Cole as he walked to his bike. My head still ached, although not as bad as earlier, and my stomach was still ill, but my happiness levels were at an all
time high. It was just a damn shame that this was the last time I’d see him.
Chapter 9
Harlow
After Scott left, I spent a couple of hours lounging in front of the television, wishing for the time to pass quickly. The sooner I got through this day, the sooner I’d feel better. Mum rang me just after twelve o’clock to see how I was doing and to tell me that she picked up some more catering jobs. And then I remembered that Cassie had tried to call me earlier so I dialed her number.
She answered straight away. “Did you just wake up?” She sounded as awful as I felt.
“No, I was woken up by a visit from Scott earlier this morning.”
“Scott, as in the guy from the club last night? The one who you met at the vet?”
“Yeah, him. He came to offer me a job, but I said no. I don’t think I want to work in a strip club. Do you think I should have accepted it? We do need the money -”
“Stop second guessing yourself. And no, Harlow, I can’t see you working in a strip club. We’ve known each other for what, six months now? You’ve become my best friend, and I need to tell you that it’s time for you to chase your dreams now. You gave up everything to move here to help your Mum, and you did help her, but she’s getting the café back on its feet now, so you should stop settling for any old job and go for what you want.”
“I’m your best friend?” A warm sensation settled in my tummy.
“Yeah, you are,” she replied, and I could hear the affection in her voice.
“You’re mine too, girl.”
“Oh my goodness, I feel like we just agreed to go steady, dude.”
I laughed, but got serious when I said, “Cass, I haven’t had a best friend for a long time now. Not since Dale cheated on me with Anna. He stole my best friend from me.”
“No, they stole each other from you. She was just as much to blame as him, that bitch. Actually, I think what she did to you was worse. Best friends don’t sleep with each other’s boyfriends. First rule of best friend club.”