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“I’m aware.”
Dom nods, smiling tightly. “Beyond my policy and its enforcement, although I don’t know Meghan well, I sense that a man like you would break a girl like her. And then I would be called upon to break you for the misstep. Am I clear?”
Like that exact thought hasn’t been running through my head since I felt the flawless curve of her ass in my hand and the soft pressure of her thigh against my cock this morning. I tilt my chin in deference, blinking once. “Crystal clear,” I answer. “No worries.”
I pause, taking a moment to let Dom know that I’m not just spouting some fear-inspired bullshit, then continue. “Well, actually, I am concerned. But not about that. It’s Meghan.”
“What about Meghan?” Dom asks. “Do you feel she is under threat still?”
I shrug, tenting my fingers in my lap. “Not sure. When I left, she seemed fine, even said she’d see me tonight because she was scheduled to work dinner to close. But she got Sarah to cover her shift. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I wanted you to be aware.”
Dominick’s eyes flick to the black walls, seeing through them to the dance floor below where the familiar but faint bass beat is telling me Allie is on stage. “I’ll have Allie call Meghan,” Dom finally says. “They’re close, so she can see what’s up and why she ditched her shift. Tell Allie to come up after her performance, please.”
Hearing the dismissal, I rise and walk out of Dominick’s office, feeling like I just received a pardon from the firing squad. Even knowing I’d done nothing wrong, Dominick is one of the few men I legitimately fear. Even now, leaving his office, there’s one percent of my brain that expects to hear the snick of him drawing the hammer back on his pistol.
The fact is, Dominick is ice-cold and all business, willing to do whatever is necessary, regardless of where the law or public opinion lies on his actions. This time, though, I’m safe, and I get downstairs to wait behind the curtain backstage for Allie to finish her set.
As she comes though, her costume is wadded up in her hands, and she jumps slightly, not expecting me to be standing there, and she squeaks a little. “Jesus fuck, Shane! You scared the hell out of me!”
“Sorry, didn’t mean to startle you. Dominick wants to see you for a second.”
She bites her lip, and I can see she’s nervous, but there’s something else in her eyes too, but it’s gone too fast for me to identify it.
She lays her costume down, grabbing a towel and patting herself off so she removes the beads of sweat without disturbing the waterproof makeup and glitter too much. She’s got a couple more dances coming up tonight, and Allie’s a girl who absolutely hates to do touch-up work once she’s got her ‘costume’ on. It’s interesting the things you learn working in a strip club. Girls’ makeup habits being one of them.
Thinking of girls’ makeup makes my brain flash to Meghan and the way she can go from sultry to fresh-faced in a flash, and in my jeans, my cock twitches. Thankfully, I prepared for tonight, and I’m wearing my tighter compression briefs, and my semi-chub goes unnoticed.
“Thanks, I’ll head up now.”
I hold the back-stairwell door open for her, giving her a nod as she walks by before I head back out to the floor to resume my door duty. Yeah, Dominick might have Allie call her, but I’m going to have to check on Meghan tonight to satisfy my own questions.
I just need to make sure she’s okay after last night’s incident, and maybe moreso after this morning’s awkward wakeup.
Chapter 5
Maggie
“What a freakin’ waste of time,” I mutter to myself as I look around the club, wishing I wasn’t here. As ordered, I’ve gotten dolled up, paid the rip-off twenty-dollar cover charge to get into the fancy-schmancy Club Noir, supposedly the hottest night club this side of New York. I’ve sat here at a table, nursing two weak girly drinks for the past four hours, tipping the waitress generously as she gives me looks.
I’ve spent since eight o’clock tonight looking like the world’s biggest club loser, hanging onto my seat and turning down the guys who have approached simply because this chair has the best view of the door, the dance floor, and the stairs up to the VIP section.
And did Mr. Basketball Star, Jimmy Keys, make an appearance in said VIP section? Did his twenty points and eleven rebounds a game ass even show up?
Of course not. The closest thing I’ve seen is a guy who’s about six four and looks like he might make a good basketball player.
So now, as people start to pair off and head out to continue the night in private, I’m almost fifty bucks in the hole for the night. I have no story, and based on my last text to Jeanine, my boss is somehow pissed off at me for the whole thing.
