The elevator is almost too quiet, and I think that going back and forth between the blasting music and absolute silence is going to take some getting used to.

I was expecting the third floor to be a balcony like the second floor, but it’s not. The elevator doors open onto a gorgeous hallway. Dark, sparkling marble is arranged in geometric patterns on the floor, and colored lights line the edges. The hallway curves out of view—it must circle the whole club. The lights that stream up from the floor are vibrant, painting color along the walls and ceiling. It doesn’t take me long to notice that those colors are corresponding to rooms. The first stretch of the hallway is green, and the door in that section is green. The next section is orange.

I pass through a purple and a yellow section before I finally reach a blue one. Pausing outside the door, I take a deep breath. Cole requested me. I have no idea why. Whether it’s because he thinks I’ll be good eye candy or because he felt the same thing I felt between us, I don’t know. What I do know is that it’s still my first day, and I need to do a good job no matter how he makes me feel. I pass my keycard over the little panel, and the door slides aside silently.

The room is entirely glass—floor, walls, and ceiling. Below, you can see the entirety of the club spread out downstairs, and I have vertigo just looking. The music from downstairs is being pumped in through speakers, though it’s low enough to easily hear over. There are comfortable couches and chairs, and they’re filled. I count seven men sitting in the room, one of whom is Cole. Everyone turns to me as I come in, and I swallow my nerves as I step inside.

Seeing me, Cole smiles. “Come in, please. Everyone, this is Andrea. She’s new to Club Deep, and I’ve invited her to be our waitress this evening.” He gestures me forward and points out a two of the men. They’re both handsome, though I don’t feel drawn to them the way I do to Cole. “Andrea this is Julian Rivers and Hudson Carle, my business partners. And these are our clients.”

I smile and nod, not sure exactly how much I’m supposed to say. Cole looks at me, and I think he senses my discomfort because he keeps talking to his clients. I notice that he hasn’t mentioned their names. Given Rosie’s warnings about most people paying in cash, and the nature of the club, I’m sure that it was intentional. “Can I interest you gentlemen in something to drink?”

“Of course,” Julian says, smiling at me and picking up Cole’s cue. “I’ll take a whiskey neat please.”

“And I’ll have a…I’ll take a Guinness.” Hudson tells me. His voice is a deep bass that practically rumbles.

The other men look skeptical—I’m not sure why, but they give drink orders as well. I’m glad I still have the notepad from stocking the shelves. I don’t know that I would have been able to keep seven different drink orders straight. Hopefully I’ll be able to do it without the pad eventually. I head for the door and Cole keeps step with me. “I hope this is all right,” he says. “I thought you might like to be away from the frenzy your first night.”

A wave of surprise rolls over me, and then pleasure. He thought about me. The fact that he wanted to make me happy, even for a second…I smile at him. “That’s nice of you. I thought you might have wanted me just for eye candy.”

The look on his face deepens into a more-than-friendly smile. “Oh, you are that. But that wasn’t the reason I brought you up here. Certainly not the only reason.”

“There are other reasons?” Butterflies take up residence in my stomach at his words.

Cole leans a little closer, lowering his voice so no one can hear but me. “I can think of a lot of reasons. None of them should be said out loud while we have company.”

I raise an eyebrow at him. “And you have a plan for us to be without company?”

“Once your shift is over, I thought I might give you a tour of the club. So you could get to know it more…intimately.”

It feels like all the air in the room disappeared. The heat in his eyes is going to burn me from the inside out, and it takes everything I’ve got not to reach out and touch him. I remember what I felt when he caught me on the stairs, and I have no doubt he’s thinking the same thing. “Let me go get those drinks,” I say. “You don’t want to keep your clients waiting.”

“Hurry back.”

God, that smile could make a nun drop her panties. “I will.” I almost trip on my way out of the room. Ordering the drinks is easy. Once I say that they’re for the owners, the bartenders drop what they’re doing and have all seven ready to go in record time. Then I’m in the elevator again, my arm burning with the weight of the tray and praying to god that I don’t drop them all. It would be just my luck to trip on my way in the door and have everything crash.

Thankfully that doesn’t happen. I manage to swipe my hip across the sensor and the door slides away, and I make it to the bar in the room without tripping over myself. None of Cole’s clients give me a second glance as I hand them drinks, but the owners all give me a smile and a soft ‘thank you’ before turning back to their conversation. I save Cole’s drink for last, and he catches my hand as I pass it to him. “I’ve ordered some food from downstairs. Whenever it’s ready.” He smirks, not hiding the way he’s looking at my breasts. “I’m dying for a taste.”

He doesn’t remove his hand from mine, instead pulling me a little closer, and his thumb caressing the inside of my wrist. I think the temperature in here just rose ten degrees. It certainly feels that way. My mouth is dry, even though in other places I’m wet. “I’ll check if it’s ready.”

“Thank you.”

I lean against the wall in the hallway, catching my breath. Damn. I’ve never met anyone who could do that—turn me on with a single touch on my wrist. And I am turned on. I want him to come out here in the hallway and make good on the subtle promises he’s been making all night. His presence is powerful. I don’t see how anyone wouldn’t be drawn to it, and it’s even more potent since he’s focusing all this energy on me. I’m not someone who does one-night stands, but I know that if he says the word, I’ll be in his bed without a second thought.

Heading down in the elevator, I realize that I have no idea where the kitchen is. I didn’t even know that you could order food. I wonder if it’s only something the VIPs have access to? But first, I need to make a stop. Cole is undoing me with every glance, and if we’re going to play this game, then it’s going to be fair. I duck into the dressing room on my way across the club. I need a mirror.

Yeah, this uniform is sexy, but it could be sexier. And since I seem to be serving just Cole tonight, it’s an opportunity to take advantage. I tighten the band and straps of the bra until it barely contains me, arranging the straps across my breasts to accentuate them. Using my thumbs, I shimmy the waistband of my pants down until they’re an inch from falling off. You can see my hips now, and they’re so low it’s almost obscene, but looking in the mirror, it works. Final touches, I take some make-up from one of the dancer’s stations and give myself quick smoky eyes, and use some shimmery powder on my breasts and stomach. It doesn’t glitter—instead it makes my skin luminous. In the blue light of the VIP room, I think it will look amazing. Done.

I grin at myself in the mirror. No longer a harried waitress, but a sexy club goer who happens to be serving drinks to the most powerful men in the building. Or at least that’s how it feels. I get more than my fair share of looks as I make my way across the club to the kitchen. Rosie practically mows me down coming out of the kitchen with a tray. She gives me a look up and down and laughs. “You catch on quickly.”

“What?”

She raises an eyebrow. “You’ve probably doubled the tips you’ll get tonight.”

“Oh. Right.” It’s not tips I was hoping to land, but I’ll let her think what she wants.

The food Cole ordered is ready, waiting with a little card letting me know what to take. There’s also a…blowtorch?

“Ever used one of those before?” An older man in a chef uniform is looking at me skeptically.

“Nope,” I say, “and I have no idea what it’s for.”

He nods. “One of the things mister Andrews ordered was crème brûlée.” He points to a bunch of little cups filled with custard. “It’s more entertaining for the guests if you torch the top in front of them.” He picks up the torch and flicks it on, showing me the bright blue flame. “Just run it lightly over the top until the whole thing is a medium brown. You’ll be fine.”

“Sure,” I say. “Sounds easy enough.” I’m sure I don’t sound convincing. But I have no idea who these clients are. If they’re important, I want to make sure they have a good impression, so more entertaining it is. I grab the tray of food and head back across the club, sticking to the edge and dodging dancers as needed.

There seems to be a rather heated discussion happening as I enter the blue room—on the clients’ side—but they stop talking as soon as I enter the room. I get the feeling I should have knocked, but it’s too late now.

Cole chimes in to cover the awkwardness in the air. “I took the liberty of ordering us some appetizers and desserts. Andrea?”

I bring the tray over to a larger table, a higher bar that’s holding almost everyone’s drinks. I place the tray down, and lay out the desserts. God, I hope I don’t set everything on fire. I glance over at Cole, and I see the moment he registers the change in my appearance. His eyes stroke up and down my body visibly, and his mouth curls up in what must be the sexiest smirk I’ve ever seen. I’m concerned that the minute I light up this blowtorch that we’re all going to explode.

The clients and Cole’s partners are speaking, commenting on the food, but I can’t hear them. I’m distracted by the way Cole’s eyes are on me, by the way he shifts in his seat, making it clear what he’s trying to hide. I glance up from using the torch to see the light of it reflected in his eyes, and it only makes them burn brighter. Everyone’s heard that expression about feeling like they were the only people in the room, and every time someone said anything like that, I thought that they were lying.

They weren’t.

I manage to crown the tops of all the desserts without catching my clothes on fire, and I get a little round of applause as I turn off the flame with a flourish.

“Well done,” Cole says, and I’m glad it’s dark enough that he won’t see the way my body heats up, blushing because of his praise.

I distribute the small desserts to everyone, and one of the clients catches my arm as I put it in front of him. “I agree, well done,” he says. One strong pull, and I’m in his lap. His hand is around my waist, fingers stroking against my skin, pulling me down onto what is obviously an erection. “I can think of other things that could be well done.” He snickers, voice crawling across me like slime.

There’s no air in the room. I don’t think I’m breathing, and I can’t move. I hear someone clearing his throat, and I see Cole stand. “This club is a haven for people to explore who they are, and you are welcome to do so. I’m sure you’ll find plenty of willing people downstairs who would want to join you. However, my employees are off limits. That is not a service they provide, and if you put your hands on Andrea again, or any of my other employees, you will not be welcome here. Am I understood?”

The man, still nameless, loosens his grip and I scramble off his lap, putting distance between us. “I understand,” he says, but he’s smirking.

“Good.”

Cole looks at me, and I can tell he’s checking to see if I’m all right. But now that he’s said that employees are off limits, he can’t show me any kind of favor. “That will be all, Andrea. Thank you. I’m sure Rosie could use your help downstairs.”

I nod, heading for the door, and I feel his eyes on me the entire way, and in the hallway it feels like I take my first real breath in minutes. What the hell was I thinking? Cole Andrews owns this club. Even aside from the fact that I want him to strip me down and kiss every inch of skin, do I really want to be the girl who sleeps with the boss on the first day?

Yeah. Not the best plan. I make my way downstairs, trying to fight my disappointment at losing something that I never really had.