Chapter Two
“Did I catch you before work?” Norma’s voice sounded muffled through my coat collar as I tried to balance the phone on my shoulder and unlock the doors to the club at the same time.
It was cold, and with my gloves on, I’d only just managed to hit the TALK button before my phone stopped ringing. “Barely. I’m walking in now.”
It was a Thursday, and like many other weeknights, Norma had worked late so I hadn’t gotten to see her before leaving for my eight o’clock shift. “Did you get dinner? There’s leftover takeout in the fridge if you didn’t.”
“Yeah, I ate.” She sounded distracted. “I’m sorry. I meant to call you earlier, but I was tied up with…meetings.”
I pushed through the employee entrance into the kitchen. “No problem. What’s up?”
“I heard from Dad’s lawyer today.”
Dad. One simple word, and I was frozen in my tracks. “And?”
Relax, I told myself. He’s probably just contacting you to wish you an early Happy Birthday.
Yeah, right. He’d surprised us every now and then with remembering the special events in our lives. But not recently. Not since he’d landed in jail.
“And…” Norma hesitated, which alerted me to how bad her news was going to be. “And he’s coming home earlier than we thought.”
“Jesus Christ, no.” I could barely speak past the ball in my throat. “When?”
“June.”
“June?” I repeated it again in my head a few times before I was able to comprehend it. “That’s six whole months early! I thought he couldn’t get out before December.” Dad’s sentence had been issued without parole. December would be ten years. It was coming up fast, but at least then I still had a whole cycle of seasons to get through before I had to deal with it. With him.
Now there was only spring between his cell and his freedom. I felt like I might throw up.
“He wasn’t supposed to be able to get out early, no. But there’s crowding and…it’s complicated. They’re putting him in a half-way house to finish his term.” Norma sounded weary so I didn’t make her explain any more. I trusted my sister to tell me what I needed to hear and keep the rest away. She was one of the only people I trusted, actually. “We could try to fight it, but we’d probably not get anywhere. It wouldn’t be worth the time or money.”
Frustrated, I ran a hand through my hair before remembering I was wearing gloves. The gesture wasn’t nearly as satisfying as I wanted it to be, the weird smoothness of it actually irritating me more. I tugged the glove off with my mouth and then asked the most important question. “Have you told Ben?”
As much as Norma and I dreaded our father’s release, it was our little brother who would take the news the worst. Which was reasonable. He’d been the most affected by the darkness of our past.
“Not yet. I’ll call him. Soon.” Norma cleared her throat, and I suspected she might have the same ball of apprehension that I did. “But not tonight. I need to think about how I’m going to tell him.”
“Let me know if you need any help.” Not that I could do much. Norma was the one who’d always had the soothing touch. My approach was always to say ouch and move on.
Really, it was more like say ouch and shove it deep inside the black hole that I half-seriously believed existed in place of my heart. What else would explain why I was so vastly void of any lasting emotion? The darkness ate any real feeling that threatened to take hold of me. Anger and anxiety probably snuck in more than anything else. But even the panic about my father was subsiding already, turning into a dull buzz of irritation. Maybe it wasn’t the healthiest way to go through life, yet it had been the way that I’d survived.
Ben wasn’t like me, though. Ben would take this hard.
“Man, this really sucks.” I started through the kitchen, bracing the phone on my shoulder again as I took off my other glove and stuffed it in my coat pocket.
Bethany looked up from her prep work and stopped me just as Norma started to say something.
“Hold on a sec, Norma.” I put my hand over the receiver and nodded to Bethany to talk.
“That JC guy—”
I rolled my eyes and cut her off. “Say no more.”
JC was the last person I needed to think about at the moment. He was the last person I needed to think about period. He was arrogant and crass. Ridiculous and entitled.
And every time he crossed my mind, my heart did a flip-flop.
I hadn’t seen him since that night a month ago when I’d met him in the Viper, but now that I was aware of his existence, it felt like he was everywhere. I heard him casually mentioned by the staff a few times. Once I saw a phone message from him for Matt. His initials were even on a calendar in the office—how had I never noticed any of that before?
Then, of course, there had been the flowers.
He’d sent some to the club the weekend after we’d met. I’d come in to find them in the office at the start of my Saturday shift. As I’d opened the sealed envelope with my name on it that accompanied the lavish bouquet, I’d been dying of curiosity, and admittedly, excitement. No one I knew would send me flowers. So what the hell?
The message was simple.
“The difference between who you are and who you want to be is what you do.”
JC
An array of emotions flashed through me so fast I had no idea which one I was actually feeling. Surprised, embarrassed, annoyed, anxious. Turned on.
Finally, I settled on anger. Just like when I met him, I wondered, who did he think he was? So he could quote Bill Phillips, was he my personal motivational speaker now? How did he think he knew anything about me, anyway? And if he was trying to get me into his bed, this was definitely not how to do it.
Though, wasn’t it a little bit flattering that he’d still been thinking of me several days later?
No. It definitely was not. It made me angrier that I’d even considered it. So I dumped the whole thing, vase and all, into the trash next to the desk and tried to forget about it.
I’d still thought about it.
Or, I’d thought about him. A lot. Throughout the Christmas holidays, into the New Year, he wasn’t ever very far from my mind. He was attractive, yes, and that might have been why his image so easily appeared in my head at the oddest of times. But more, it was the things he’d said about me. He’d said I wanted to be free. He’d said he could help me learn. What exactly did that mean? Sex? Was he serious?
And even if sex could do me some good, could anyone actually break through the prison I lived in?
If anyone could, it wasn’t him. That I knew for sure.
“Just wanted to warn you,” Bethany said to me now.
Great. Probably another bouquet waiting on my desk. I should have known he wouldn’t be that easy to shake.
“Thanks, Bethany,” I mouthed then returned to talking to Norma as I continued through the kitchen. “Okay, I’m back.”
“I only have one more thing.”
“Shoot.” I paused to scan the kitchen schedule posted on the wall. While I didn’t manage the staff in there, I liked to know whom I was working with before a shift began.
“I don’t want you to be alarmed,” Norma said hesitantly, “but he asked if he could stay with us when he gets out.”
“Who asked? The lawyer?”
“Dad asked his lawyer to ask us.”
“Oh, hell no!” Now I was pissed. That was one of the emotions I was able to hold onto for more than a minute. “No way, no how. How can he even have the balls to ask? You said no, right? You damn well better have said no.”
“Yes, I said no. I won’t even tell him where we live for as long as we can manage that. But I just wanted you to know in case he tries to contact you.”
“Thanks. I think.” I pushed through the kitchen door into the main part of the club. Then, for the second time in a matter of minutes, I froze in my tracks. “Hey, I have to go.”
“Okay. Talk later. Don’t let this eat at you, Gwen. We’re fine. Everything’s fine.”
I ended the call, barely registering Norma’s parting words. My attention was completely on the man leaning against the bar.
Why, oh why hadn’t I listened better to Bethany’s warning? I could have gotten Brent or one of the other guys in the kitchen to get rid of him for me.
Once again, I wasn’t prepared.
When he saw me, JC’s lip curled into a smile. Then he winked. Winked!
And my stupid body decided to react with a parade of goose bumps. Which only pissed me off more than I already was.
“Seriously? I don’t know you exist for the whole year and then I see you twice in one month?” I immediately regretted lashing out. If there’d been even a chance that he hadn’t realized that he affected me then it was gone now.
Since the club wasn’t open yet, the work lights were still on, and I could see him more clearly than when I’d met him. It was a sight I didn’t need to see. If I’d wondered at all that the dim lighting of the Viper might have been overly kind to his appearance, that notion had been killed.
Because now, in full view, he was stunning.
He was dressed much like he had been the last time I saw him, wearing a dark gray two-piece that fit him spectacularly. His hair wasn’t styled as severely, and I could see now that he had a bit of natural curl. He still wore stubble, more recently trimmed so that it looked even more enticing to touch. I had to clench my fist tight so as not to reach my hand out to rub against his cheek.
He straightened and put his hands in his pockets. “I know. It should have been sooner. But with the holidays and all...”
“Why should you have been here sooner?” Why I asked, I didn’t know. It was a setup to hearing something I probably didn’t want to hear. It was just so hard to think in his presence. He was so aggravating and alluring all at once. Should anyone really be that attractive just from stuffing his hands in his pockets?
It was cruel, really.
JC took a casual step toward me. “Because I wanted to see you, Gwen.” He said it as if it were the most matter-of-fact statement ever. “Normally, if I want to see someone, I don’t put it off that long. It’s just…I wasn’t even in town. I would have sent you more flowers so that you knew I was thinking of you, but I heard that you didn’t enjoy them as much as I’d hoped.”
“I…” He was doing it again—knocking me off-kilter, pushing me out of my stride. “You know about the flowers?” I closed my eyes briefly, regretting my words. “I mean, thank you. The flowers were lovely. I’m not interested.”
But also, how the heck did he know what I’d done with the flowers?
Dammit, Alyssa. She’d been there when I tossed them. She had to have told him.
Well, so he knew. It was better that he didn’t think I’d appreciated them.
Except, it hadn’t seemed to get the point across because he was here now.
“That’s not fair, Gwen.” He took another step toward me. “You should really give me a chance to at least re-extend my offer before you shoot it down.”
Suddenly feeling warm, I started working the buttons on my coat. “I know I sound ridiculous because I’m asking question after question, but could you remind me which offer that was?” I was bluffing, of course. I knew exactly which offer JC was talking about. The idea of it—sex with this irritating stranger—it stirred me in places I hadn’t realized could stir.
But there was no way I could let him know that. He knew way too much about me already.
My pulse quickened as JC took several fast steps toward me. But he merely circled behind me to help me take off my coat. “You know which offer. The one where I help you loosen up a little.”
Now he was close to me, real close. And even as I shed the weight of my coat into his arms, I felt my temperature rise.
I groaned though it sounded almost like a moan to my own ears. “You are so crude.” I turned to face him and snatched my coat from his hands.
“You are so uptight.” He said the word uptight as though it intrigued him. As though it challenged him.
Just what I needed—to be someone’s challenge. Still holding my coat, I crossed my arms over my chest. “You don’t even know me.”
“I don’t know you, but I know that. Everyone knows that.” Again with his hands in his pockets, seeming to mock my more defensive posture.
“Everyone knows that I’m uptight?” My voice sounded shrill. I realized I was only proving his point. I shook my head and mumbled, “This is the weirdest conversation I’ve ever had with anyone.”
“Then stop talking. We don’t need to talk.” His eyes searched mine. Which gave me the opportunity to search his. They were bright and alive in a way that I was sure mine hadn’t been in years—if ever. But beyond that, beyond the laughter and the light, there was the same thing I’d seen that night in the Viper. Something hollow. Something lonely. Something void.
“You two know each other?” Matt’s wary tone cut through my focus. I’d been so fixated on JC that I hadn’t heard him come in from the office.
Great. Just great.
Now that he’d seen me with JC, I’d have to admit I knew about the rule-breaking deal Matt had set up. And that meant I’d have to either tell on him with the owner or let him believe I was okay with it. I wasn’t going to tell on him. I also wasn’t okay with it. I liked it better when he thought I was in the dark. More than that, I liked it when I was in the dark.
Too late now.
Matt was worried as well. His expression said it all. I bit my lip, trying to decide what to say.
But before I could admit anything, JC said, “We’ve just met.” He cocked a brow. “Gwen, you said?”
He probably wanted me to say something, but all I could manage was a nod. I was too surprised. JC had no reason to hide that we knew each other. Unless he understood the position I was in. Unless he understood me better than I gave him credit for.
The idea made the blood rush from my face and my throat go dry.
“I thought I knew all the managers at Eighty-Eighth. Guess not.” JC turned away from me and walked over to Matt. “Anyway, I came by to see you.”
I’d have thought that Matt would be relieved to find that I didn’t know about his secret dealings with JC. But his voice sounded even more anxious when he asked, “Why? What did you find out? Is there something new?”
Matt’s reaction sent a chill down my spine. He was fraught and concerned where I’d always known him only to be mellow and reasonable. That it was JC he was addressing bothered me. Made me interested in their relationship when I’d normally not care in the least.
JC put his hand on Matt’s shoulder. “No, no, I’m not here for anything like that. Just haven’t seen you for a few weeks. You took that time off and then the holidays—it’s been a month.”
They’d forgotten I was there, and I let them. It wasn’t polite of me by any means. I should have excused myself so they could discuss their private matters. Instead, I slid onto a bar stool and pretended to straighten a stack of happy hour menus.
Behind me, Matt gave a shaky sigh. “I just couldn’t be around that week. Not this time. Too many memories.”
“I know,” JC said. “I understand. Why do you think I spend so much time on the coast?”
I peeked at them in the mirror above the bar. JC’s face couldn’t be seen, but his hand was still on Matt and now Matt had put his hand on JC’s shoulder as well, as if they were comforting each other about…what?
“You were still here though. That’s tough of you.” Matt patted JC one more time before dropping his arm.
JC let his hand fall too, stuffing it in his pocket with a shrug. “I had work to do. It helped distract me.”
“Thank you. I appreciate that you’re still trying.”
Their voices lowered then, and I couldn’t make out more of what they were saying. What I had heard, though…it was obvious that Matt and JC were more to each other than just business associates. Matt was the type to keep personal, personal and work, work, so this relationship between the two men struck me as odd. I’d known my boss five years and still didn’t know whether he had a family besides the wife that his simple wedding band suggested. The whole interaction between him and JC, a man young enough to be his son, was curious and intriguing. And personal. It was a mystery that I knew full well wasn’t mine to know.
Whatever was between them, I did know this—it was heavier and more urgent than JC’s flirtation with me. Was I not even the reason he’d come to the club tonight? Had he really come to see Matt?
And why did that disappoint me so much?
“Gwen?”
I jumped at the sound of my name but tried to hide my surprise by pretending to be consumed with my work. “Hmm?”
“Matt went upstairs. It’s just us.”
I looked up again into the mirror and realized it was only JC behind me.
And he was close behind me. “Oh. Okay.”
I spun so that I was facing him. “Uh, thank you. For not letting him know that I knew about you.” Maybe if I were polite and straightforward, he’d accept my gratitude and leave.
“I should tell you it’s purely selfish and that I was just worried that I’d lose my deal.” He took a step toward me, and I had to lean back now to meet his eyes. “But that would be a lie.”
I swallowed, but my voice still felt weak as I asked, “What would be the truth?”
“I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable on my account.”
It was amazing I didn’t laugh. I already felt uncomfortable. He was invading my personal space, the heat from his body warming my chest, my thighs, my face, and for a split second, I wondered what it would be like to press myself into him. Against him.
Perhaps I should have shoved him away. I didn’t. “Why do you care?”
He closed the distance between us, resting his hands on the bar on either side of me so that I was caged underneath him. “I don’t really know, Gwen. I’m attracted to you. I’d be interested in spending time with you. In a bed. I think it could be mutually beneficial and if that comes off as crude, I apologize. But I learned a long time ago that the only way to get what you want is to ask. And sometimes even the things that seem impossible turn out to not be so impossible after all.”
His words, his invitation…I should have been offended, and a small voice in my head said that I was, but another part of me, the bigger part of me, wanted to accept what he was offering. Wanted to tilt my chin up and let our mouths meet and explore. My tongue swept along my lower lip as if that kiss that I imagined were inevitable.
His gaze fell to my mouth and his eyes darkened.
This is it, I thought. He’s going to kiss me.
Instead, he inhaled and closed his eyes, savoring the scent in the air between us. The motion, the way it seemed like he was taking in my very essence, made me feel like the main course in a very long awaited meal. It was almost shameful how the baseness of his gesture turned me on.
“You smell good,” he said. He leaned closer, so close that now I could smell him distinctly. He had cologne on of some sort and his clothes had a clean scent, but all I could register was Man. All I could think was Sex.
“What do you say, Gwen? Should we try to make an arrangement?”
Somehow my hands found their way to his chest, as if they had a mind of their own. He felt firm and warm beneath my palms. My breasts ached at the thought of pressing against him. It wouldn’t be the first arrangement I’d made for casual sex. If they didn’t have the habit of getting messy and tied up in feelings, I’d probably pursue more strictly sexual relationships.
But the effort to keep things unattached was so not worth it. And, with JC, I could tell it would be especially difficult. He was the type of guy who liked to be fawned over. He wanted to be special. He wanted to be loved. I couldn’t give that.
Even if I could, JC wasn’t the guy who would ever give it back. Any relationship with him would be doomed from the beginning. It would be bad. People would get hurt. And I’d never been into causing pain.
There was no denying my attraction to him though. And fighting off his advances took more energy than I wanted to expend. Which, coupled with my frustrating call with Norma earlier, made me more than a little irritated.
With more strength than was probably necessary, I pushed him away. “No, definitely not.”
I slipped off the bar stool and spun to him, my back tall as I let gravity give me an anchor that I so desperately needed. “I don’t know what you have over Matt, Mr….” God, it was ridiculous that I didn’t even know his name and JC was simply too familiar. “Mr. C. But I don’t work like that. You’re lucky that he’s the general manager and not me because there would be no such special favors or blind eyes. I am not the type that makes deals or arrangements of any sort. I’m by the book. So it’s best you remember that and keep all your negotiations with Matt.”
JC bit back a smile.
“Hey. I’m serious.” I felt like stomping my foot, but held back, knowing it would probably not help my case.
He covered his mouth with his hand. When he removed it, all traces of his smile were gone. “I’m sorry. I know you’re serious. I didn’t mean to patronize you. You’re just even more adorable when you’re feisty.”
“You didn’t mean to patronize me, but you just did?” If he wanted feisty, I’d give him feisty. “You know what, Mr. C? I do have an arrangement I’d like to make. I work on Thursday nights and you have the room booked on Tuesdays. How about we agree that I won’t come into the club on those nights and you don’t come into the club on these nights?”
“Oh, Gwen. I can’t make an arrangement like that. That wouldn’t give you a chance to change your mind. And as worked up as you are right now—your shoulders tight, your jaw clenched, your eyes tired—I’m betting that you’re going to change your mind. Real soon.”
“Don’t wager too much. I’d hate to see you in the poorhouse.”
He took two steps toward me and reached his hand out to my cheek. It was the first time he’d touched me and it was almost too much. Like a hot coal against an ice cube, I melted under him. Melted into him.
I also wanted very much to drop the coal and jump away.
He sensed my warring reactions. I saw the disappointment in his eyes. But along with the disappointment, they flickered with hope.
“The next move is yours, Gwen.” He slid his thumb down my face, following my jawline. “You know where to find me.”
That was the problem. I wished I didn’t know where to find him. I wished I didn’t know him at all.
Mostly, I wished I didn’t know what it was like to feel the touch of his skin on mine. The trail he’d swept on my cheek burned for long minutes after he turned and left the club.
Then, it faded and was gone. And I was left alone in the cold of my ice prison once more.