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He should probably go back to BDE, the kink club he and his brothers co-owned. Sure, he and Desmond were silent partners, letting Braden be the face and run everything, but it meant he could stop in whenever he wanted. He just very rarely wanted to.
There had been a few times over the years after Anita died when he’d gotten so lonely and desperate for the touch of a woman, he’d gone in to find someone for a night. But he hated doing that. Damian had never been a ‘one-night’ kind of guy. He liked relationships. He liked getting to know a woman before he fucked her.
He also hadn’t wanted to take the time to get to know anyone while Katrina was younger. She’d been a lost little girl without her mom, and needed all his attention. Eventually, his attention divided between her and his various businesses as she’d gotten older and more independent. Those businesses allowed him to take care of her in other ways, like putting her through school without racking up any student loan debt.
Which was a good thing because that shit was a fucking racket.
Turning on the water, Damian stepped under the spray, shaking his head as he doused it. The water slid over his skin and hair, soaking into his goatee. It helped clear his head a little. He scrubbed himself down over the tattoos on his chest and arms, focusing on getting himself clean and not thinking about Emily at all.
Nope. He was going to think about a different woman. He didn’t have one in mind, but he needed to find one. It was time.
He’d go to BDE, start meeting people, and find someone he could really connect with. He needed to get past this thing he had about Emily. He needed to get it fully in his head that was never going to happen.
3
A Desperate Audition
Emily
Victor, as he’d introduced himself when Emily had been shown into his office, looked her over. Oddly, his gaze felt less sleazy than Ron’s. If anything, it was clinical. He frowned, leaning back in his chair while she tried not to feel too awkward about standing while he was still sitting.
“You want to be a dancer?” he asked doubtfully, his gaze sweeping over her high-necked blouse and knee-length skirt. It was the best Emily could do. It wasn’t like she had a ton of clothes for going out and partying—because she didn’t—and she never went on dates.
“Yes.” Emily said the word as forcefully as she could, as if she could make herself mean it by saying it more firmly. “I don’t have any experience, but I’m a fast learner. Or if you need any servers. I could be a server. Or a bartender. I know how to mix drinks.”
Good job. Way to make sure he knows you’re desperate.
But there was something about him that made her feel like she could say that, and he wouldn’t try to take advantage of her. Not the way Ron had. That jerk.
Victor looked to be in his mid-forties and wasn’t anything like what she’d expected when she’d arrived at the club to apply. Firstly, he wasn’t giving her a creep vibe. Secondly, he looked like he wanted to talk her out of applying. He was wearing a business suit, though no tie, and he had the collar button undone. There was no hair hanging out of his shirt, though, and no gold chains. The hair on his head was neatly styled and looked as if it might have been blow-dried.
Basically, he didn’t look anything like what she’d seen in the movies, and she was realizing she had some ideas about clubs like this that might not be correct.
God, she hoped so.
She could work for a guy like Victor. Sure, her first impression might be completely off, or maybe she was projecting because she was terrified of the alternative—which was not working for anyone at all—but she did feel a little reassured that maybe this wouldn’t be too terrible.
Letting out a hefty sigh, Victor looked her over again.
“We don’t need any more servers or bartenders. We need dancers.” He eyed her blouse again. “The guys would probably like your curves. You’re bigger than most of the girls we get, but that’s not necessarily a bad thing. It could be part of your schtick.” Suddenly, he stood, the chair creaking as he got to his feet. He was a few inches taller than her, not enough to make her feel intimidated or like he was looming. “Alright, come with me. Let’s see what you’ve got.”
“What?” Emily blinked as he came around the desk, passing by her and crooking his finger.
“Let’s see what you’ve got,” he repeated, opening the door and stepping back as he gestured for her to walk through in front of him. Now that the door was open, she could hear the music from the restaurant coming down the hall. It wasn’t loud, but it was audible, a throbbing bass beat she felt in her suddenly churning gut.
“Does this mean I’m hired?” Trotting along behind him, she felt as though this wasn’t real. It had to be a dream. He wasn’t just going to hire her when she hadn’t filled out any paperwork or anything.
“No, this means you get an audition. Any money you make is yours.” The music was getting louder, the lights dimmer. She could hear the murmur of voices out in the main room now, all low and masculine, and her stomach flip-flopped. Nausea rose in the back of her throat, and she swallowed it back hard.
They stopped in what was clearly a backstage area. The stage was up several stairs, and from her position, she couldn’t see the woman who was currently performing, but she could see the lights shining onto the stage. Standing just next to the stairs in the dark was a blonde woman, who seemed to be wearing some sort of shimmery top and shorts, which was the only reason Emily spotted her. The woman was looking at her curiously.
That was the kind of outfit Victor had probably been expecting from anyone coming in for a job.
“An audition?” Her voice came out in a high squeak that she barely recognized. “I… I…”
“Look, honey, I’m not going to hire you if I don’t know that you can do the job.” Victor put his hands on his hips. “It’s not an easy job, but it makes damn good money if you can get it done. It’s not a job for everyone. This is the morning crowd. They don’t give a shit if you can’t dance or if you’re awkward when you’re taking your clothes off. You get past this, and we’ll get you trained up a bit, keep you on the daytime crew until you’re a better dancer, then move things around.”
Frowning at her, he tilted his head toward the stage. Emily stood frozen in place, unable to speak as he continued.
