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“Right, well, Mr. Kent, this isn’t one of your posy caffs with all the fancy trappings. We serve coffee, tea, and muffins. If you’re lucky, they’re only a day old.”
He laughs. “Sugar it is.”
Watching him sweeten his tea, I wait for him to divulge what he’s doing here. When he doesn’t, I ask, “What do you want, Mr. Kent?”
“You’re not as soft as you look.” The deep timbre of his chuckle ebbs into awkward silence. “There’s a space at Hush,” he states.
“Right?”
“I’d like to invite you to fill it.”
Is he serious? “No, thank you.”
“I don’t think you understand, Eve.”
“But I do. I’m not your kind of girl.” Last night’s experience was more than enough for me to know that Hush isn’t for me. All those women with their bodies on show for the men to ogle and touch as they like…the memory alone makes me cringe.
“It’s not what you think,” Percival says, pulling a dark envelope from inside his jacket. “There’s more information in here—” He puts the envelope down on the counter. “—but the long and short of it is that we’d like you to play at the club a few nights a week.”
“I don’t have a few nights a week. I bartend at Heath House and—”
“Are you a bartender or a violinist?” he cuts me off. “This is a unique opportunity, Eve. It will open many doors for your future career. Think Royal Philharmonic, and you wouldn’t need to work here or anywhere else with the pay cheque we would give you.”
“Why does it sound like you’re trying to buy me?”
“Because Hush has the best of everything. We cater to all the whims and pleasures of our members, and your talent certainly holds the promise of the best that the Royal Conservatory has to offer.” Taking a leisurely sip of his tea, he gives me time to think over his offer.
It sounds too good to be true. Paying placements are rarer than rocking horse shit. While I want to turn him down after last night, I don’t want to cut my nose off to spite my face. It wasn’t terrible, and in the end, it felt good playing for someone that was actually listening to me rather than being background noise. I can still remember the way the Duke’s dark eyes held me. I can still feel the rush of his closeness. The volatility inside him was palpable and electrifying.
“There are other perks too,” Percival hums, putting his tea back down.
“I’m not like the other girls. You can’t buy my—”
“Your only job will be to look beautiful and play your violin. Nobody will touch you in any way you don’t want them to.” Standing, he nods at the envelope in my hand. “Even with both jobs, your study grants and scholarship, you won’t make what we’re offering you.”
“You don’t know what I make.”
“It’s my job to know everything about every person that walks through the club’s doors, whether they’re a member, an employee, or a guest. I know how many hours you work and how much income they bring you. I know all the family you have left.” He levels me with a soft stare before continuing. “There’s nothing I don’t know about you, Eve.”
It doesn’t surprise me that he knows so much, which only makes me feel sheepish about my earlier remark. Still, I’m torn. Accepting his offer feels like I’m selling my soul to the devil.
“Tell me who else would offer you the opportunity to do what you love and pay you for it. Handsomely,” he stresses. “Even if you don’t like who we are or what we do behind closed doors, you know that giving this chance up because of your pride and sense of morality is foolish. You don’t strike me as a foolish girl.” His warm smile makes another appearance. “Maybe a little innocent and naïve, but not foolish.”
No, I’m not stupid. Any other person at the conservatory would be chomping at the bit to accept his offer. I should be biting his hand off, but every time that he’s almost convinced me, I remember how uncomfortable last night was. I liked it and I hated it, and when I left, I couldn’t stop looking back. It felt as if I’d forgotten something behind. It still feels like something is missing.
Maybe it’s my dignity because all I’ve been able to think about since I walked out of the door was how it felt when the Duke was watching me, the intensity in his dark eyes pulling me in with every glance.
Every breath of air we shared still burns in my lungs, like a ravenous pine for life. I don’t understand it. I don’t know if I like it either. But even with his surliness, I keep going back to the words he spoke of my dad and brother. For that small moment, there was warmth in him. It was palpable and disarming. For a fraction of a second, there was a glimpse of kindness.
I felt more in that room with him than I’ve allowed myself to feel in years. And while I look around me at the white walls and brown floors cluttered with cheap tables and chairs, I feel nothing again. The music in the background is lifeless—dead notes littering the air.
“I’ll think about it,” I tell Percival as he starts for the exit.
“Don’t think on it for too long,” he says, looking over his shoulder at me.
“You said no one would touch me.”
“Not unless you want them to.”
