Evangeline
“Did you get a hold of him?” Carmela’s voice echoed through the speaker of the car I’d borrowed from Gian’s garage.
“No.” I flipped on my blinker. “He’s not answering my phone calls either, but I’m pulling up in front of the club.”
Carmela heaved out a breath. “Thanks so much for doing this. I would’ve gone, but I don’t want to leave his side, and my mom needs me. I can’t leave her alone.”
I turned off the ignition and opened the car door. “I understand, and you don’t have to thank me. What’s happening now?”
“He’s better now. His blood pressure is down, and he’s asking for Gian.” Her voice quivered.
I jumped out of the car, half-walking, half-jogging. “I’ll do what I can to make sure he gets there as soon as possible.”
“Call me as soon as you find him. I need to talk to him, preferably before he meets with my dad.”
“I will. See you soon.” I disconnected the call and cut directly in front of the line curving around the side the building. My head down and my hands shoved deep in the pockets of my long cotton cardigan, I ignored the groans and taunts as I approached the bouncer at the entrance.
“Hi.” I beamed. “I need to get inside to talk to my fiancé for a few minutes.”
The man folded his bulky arms across his chest, his gaze raking over my less than club worthy appearance. “Wait in the line.”
My eyes narrowed. “What’s your name?”
“Andy,” he grumbled. He opened the red velvet roped and waved two people inside.
“Well, Andy. I’m Evangeline Jeffers, Gian Trassato’s fiancée, and it’s really important that I speak with him right now. Something happened to his father, Antonio Trassato, and he would want to know about it.”
He scanned through the names on his clipboard. “Sorry, you’re not on the list. I can’t bend the rules for anyone, even Mr. Trassato’s fiancée.”
I gritted my teeth. I didn’t have time for this shit. Gian needed to add me to the list so I didn’t have to stand outside like the pathetic spurned fiancée.
“If you don’t trust me, you can use that walkie talkie thing clipped to the back of your belt and check. Call Gian or Tony. Either one of them will clear me to go inside.”
“No can do. They can’t be interrupted tonight.”
“Please.” I knitted my fingers together and pressed them to the center of my chest. “Just call. I promise you Gian won’t be mad. Or better yet, do you know his sister Carmela? I can call her, and she’ll tell you to let me inside.”
“No, don’t bother her.” He groaned. “I’ll call Gian.”
With his dark eyes fixed on me, he held the black walkie-talkie to his lips. “Mr. Trassato, Evangeline Jeffers is here to see you. I told her to wait in the line, but she was insistent.” He paused, his eyes widening fractionally. “Right. Of course.”
He fastened the walkie-talkie to his belt and unclipped the rope. “You can go in. Gian will meet you right inside.”
“Thank you for your help.” I squeezed his arm, ignoring the urge to gloat. He was simply doing his job.
I stepped inside, halting briefly to let my eyes adjust to the flashing lights. The loud bass vibrated my insides. I didn’t understand how Gian could work here every day. One week of working in a club would be more than enough for me.
Gian’s giant strides closed the space between us in a matter of seconds, and he hooked his hands around my upper arms. “Evie, what’s going on? Why are you here?”
“It’s your dad. His blood pressure spiked, and your mom is worried about him. He’s okay now, but he’s asking for you. You weren’t answering anyone’s calls, so I came here.”
Stunned, he stared at me, the torment in his eyes slicing through me. “Dammit,” he muttered. “Do they know why?”
“Not really. Since he’s in home hospice care, they won’t do anything except try to make him comfortable.”
“Yeah.” His hands slipped from my shoulders. “That makes sense.”
“I drove here, so we can leave when you’re ready, unless you’re too busy. I know you planned to work late tonight and everything. We could go tomorrow morning.”
“No. Tony and Sal can take care of everything here.” He brushed a kiss across my lips. “Wait here while I grab a few things from my office.”
As he disappeared from view, I remembered Carmela’s request for him to call her as soon as possible. “Shit,” I mumbled, weaving through the crowd, dodging elbows, drinks, and swaying torsos.
Holding up my phone, I pushed open the door to his office. “Gian, Carmela wanted you to—” The rest of the sentence died on my lips. The sight in front of me hit me like a hard punch to my solar plexus. A very naked woman was draped over the top of his desk like something out of a porn set. Frozen with shock, I covered my mouth to stifle the horribly embarrassing sounds crawling like spiders up my throat.
Not again.
Humiliation burned the corners of my eyes. I clamped my eyes closed, trying to scrub the scene in front of me from my memory.
Inhale.
Exhale.
Inhale.
I’m okay.
My mind grappled for a response, only my mouth wouldn’t cooperate. I pried open my eyes.
The woman yanked a black dress over her head that looked more like a bunch of ribbons than an actual dress. Her face resembled a red tomato, and her skin clashed with her brassy hair.
“Excuse me,” she muttered her voice so soft I nearly missed it. “I need to use the bathroom.” With her panties and bra balled inside of her fist, she opened a door next to Gian’s desk and ducked inside.
He crossed the room, his footfalls echoing like gunshots in my head. “Calm down, Evie.” He brushed his fingers down the side of my bare neck, and my muscles tensed a little more. “It’s not what you’re thinking.”
“Let’s not talk about this now. Your family is waiting for you.” When I forced my hands between our bodies, trying to escape him, he squeezed me tighter. “You can take the car, and I’ll call a cab.” I fought back the nausea bubbling in my gut like I drank too many shots of tequila.
He pressed his lips to my forehead. “No. You’re not leaving here without an explanation.”
“I can’t do this again, Gian. I just can’t. It’ll kill me.” My voice sounded like I had swallowed a mouthful of gravel.
“Okaaay,” he said, drawing out the word like I’d been hit on the head, and I was incapable of making sense. “Apparently, I’m a little slow on the uptake, so you’re going to have to explain what you mean.”
“What do you know about my ex?”
His eyes burned with fury, and his lips thinned. “Enough to know he’s a spineless piece of crap.”
I rubbed my hands along the sides of my thighs. “Yeah, I caught him with that woman, and I don’t have any delusions she was the first. He only mentored women, and when I witnessed firsthand what that entailed, I realized it would never stop. Those women spent time alone with him, and he had power in the industry they wanted to break into. It was a recipe for cheating. It had the three As to create the perfect storm.”
“The three As? What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Availability. Access. Alibi. When the three of those aligned, he cheated with immunity.”
“Yeah, so, what exactly does that have to do with us?”
“You own a nightclub. A lot of the employees are women. I would never know if you cheated, because this is your world. No one would ever tell me.”
He folded his arms across his chest. “Don’t ever compare me to him.”
“I’m not. It’s just…” I swallowed, uncertainty ballooning between us.
Angela slipped out of the bathroom door, her clothes now firmly in place. She dipped her head and slipped by me, smelling of booze and cheap perfume. She paused at the door, her hand curled around the doorknob. “Well, yeah, I guess I’ll get to work.”
I studied the tips of my white slip on sneakers. I couldn’t look at her, and I certainly didn’t want to have a conversation with her. Not now. Not ever. The memory of her sprawled out on Gian’s desk was embedded in my head, and it made me more than a little self-conscious. She embodied everything I didn’t.
She was carefree. I was uptight.
She had curves for days. I had long, toned muscles from years of dance.
She had fake breasts that belonged on the cover of some less than honorable magazine. I had a B cup on a good day.
Yuck.
“Don’t bother,” Gian barked. “I asked you in here to terminate your employment. You can pick up your final check and sign the necessary paperwork tomorrow when you’re sober.”
She set her hands on her hips. “Are you serious?”
“What do you think? You showed up to work drunk, you draped yourself over my guests like a prostitute, you sprawled your naked ass on top of my desk. Sounds like a lot of good reasons to fire you. Get the fuck out of here, or I’ll revoke my offer to pay you for the last two weeks.”
“Whatever,” she mumbled, slamming the door with a loud thud.
“I’m going to go,” I whispered when the silence became unbearable.
Gian locked a hand around my wrist, his jaw hard and his eyes glinting. “We’re not done talking about this.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Seriously? You’re going to take off without talking to me?”
Inhale.
Exhale.
“You have more important stuff to do right now, Gian.”
“Nothing is more important than you,” he fired back.
He tugged me hard against him, forcing my hands to circle his neck. He smelled like cigars and whiskey. My legs pressed against his, and damn it, his closeness affected me more than I wanted to admit. He wanted to subdue me and unstitch my resistance. I sensed him willing me to look at him, and somehow, I found the self-respect to rebuff his unspoken command.
Punishing me for my defiance, he slid his hands around my waist and squeezed my ass, rocking his hard length against me. “Why would I want that woman when you do this to me?”
I didn’t want to like his dominant manner, except somewhere in a deep, dark place in the back of my mind, I kind of did. Swallowing the moan on the tip of my tongue, I dug my fingers into the soft weave of his suit jacket. My fingers simultaneously longed to pull him closer and slap him across his too-smug face. I hated that he could arouse me even as betrayal and hurt churned inside of my gut like acid.
“Don’t do this to me,” I whimpered, revolted by the weakness in my voice. In my soul. In my heart.
“I asked her to meet me in here so I could fire her, Evie. That’s it.”
“You don’t have to explain anything. Your father is waiting for you.”
“No.” His hands framed my face. “Not until you believe I didn’t do anything wrong.”
His lips slammed against mine, chased with a hard thrust of his tongue. All of it orchestrated to possess me, claim me, and pacify me. He tasted like a lethal concoction of anger, whiskey, and seduction. I jerked my head to the side, severing the connection.
“Stop.”
He speared his hand into his hair. “Nothing happened. She was here when I got here.”
I backpedaled a few steps until my thighs hit the rounded arm of his sofa. “You obviously sent her signals that you were interested.”
“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” His hand trailed down the side of my neck, pausing on the front of my white collared shirt. “You’d like me to be a lying cheater exactly like your ex so you don’t have to deal with what’s going on between us.”
“No.” My voice was barely a whisper.
He tugged on the sides of my shirt and two buttons popped off, skidding across the floor by my feet. He cupped one breast, pinching and teasing my nipple. I gasped.
“Then why don’t you believe me?” He flipped open the button of my baggy boyfriend jeans and shoved them, along with my panties, down my legs. I couldn’t bring myself to stop him.
My fingernails sunk into the arm of the leather sofa on either side of my hips. “I want to, but I’m—”
He plunged his fingers between my thighs, stroking the sensitive flesh and effectively stopping my words mid-sentence. I arched my hips. His touch was Heaven and Hell. Heaven because I wanted him. Hell because I didn’t think I’d ever get enough of him. His lips were everywhere, his stubble like sandpaper on my flesh, his tongue licking and exploring. All of it drove me to the brink of insanity.
“I’m scared of what I feel for you,” I confessed more to myself than him.
He crouched down, a hand on each of my knees. “Why?”
“Because it’s too big, and I don’t want to be hurt again.”
He lifted one of my legs over his shoulder. “I’m never going to hurt you, sweetheart.” With his amber gaze burning into me, his tongue licked a devastating path up the inside of my thigh. “You’re mine, and I protect what’s mine.”
His warm breath wafted over my folds, and my eyes drifted shut.
“Look at me.”
Too far gone to resist, I opened my eyes, and he leaned in, dragging his tongue over my clit, teasing me, taunting me.
“Holy shit,” I moaned, raking my teeth over my lower lip.
His mouth devoured me in adept movements made up of tiny probes and decadent swirls.
I bucked my hips. My legs shook. My fingers and toes tingled. My muscles bunched.
“Gian. Ah. Oh,” I whimpered along with a hundred other incoherent words and syllables.
“That’s it, Evie. You look so beautiful all spread out for me,” he growled, sliding one finger inside of me and then another.
Pleasure spiraled down my spine. Heat bloomed through me. His fingers moved faster. Harder. It felt so good. Too good. And then I tipped over the edge, my sex clenching around his fingers, wave after wave of pleasure spiraling through me.
He set my leg back down on the floor, the air thick with the smell of my arousal. Reluctantly, I looked at him. His hand drifted to my face. His knuckles traced the line of my jaw, and I knew what he was going to say before the words left his mouth because I felt the exact same way, and I couldn’t deny it any longer.
He angled forward, pressing his lips to mine, and all my worries, expectations, and doubts faded. It didn’t make sense, but I knew deep down in my bones his words were the absolute truth.
“I love you, Evie.”
I wrapped my fingers around his muscular forearms, breathing in him in and shuddering with relief. “I love you too.”