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“You are a delight, on and off the stage, Allie. I think you know that, which is why I’m certain your new venture will be a success. If there is anything I can do to assist with that, please let me know. It would be my honor.”
She blushes, her eyes sparkling. “Dominick, thank you. I know . . . well, I know you’re not the nicest man, but you’re always good to me.”
The compliment is somehow soothing and exciting, making me think just how good I could be to her. Or maybe how bad? But I lock those thoughts away, again denying myself and denying her the possibility of what we could be, and focus on what she’s asking for now.
“As for your shifts here, instead of paying your house fee and tip-out and keeping the remainder of your tips as per usual, I propose something a bit different. Though not common, you do know we’ve done headliner feature acts before. Our standard contract in that respect is an eighty-twenty split of door cover charges. No house fee, but you would still tip-out for the DJ, waitstaff, and bartender. Tips would be yours after that. It’s your idea about rarer performances being more in-demand but significantly amped up.”
It’s a good deal, one I’ve only offered a handful of times in my time as owner of Petals. With the proposal I’m presenting, Allie would receive a small portion of Petals’s profits for the night, a flip of the norm and a hefty bump in her pay, and considering feature performers perform on-stage for much longer sets, the potential for tips is greater too.
It’s an opportunity only given to the crème de la crème of dancers, ones I’m certain can fill the club and make both of us considerable bank.
Someone like Allie.
Her jaw drops open wide in shock, tempting me to fill her mouth with something I suspect we’d both like, but to my surprised delight, she’s not mindlessly celebrating my offer.
Through her shock, her mind whirls around and lands on . . .
“Make it 75/25 and you have a deal.”
The surprised chuckle escapes before I can stop it, but I recover, dipping my chin as I incline my head.
“Very well. 75/25. On one condition.”
At my agreement, even with a caveat, she leans forward, bringing our lips within inches of each other, our breath mingling as she lifts one eyebrow in question. Though there is desire in her eyes, there’s also a wariness, that hint of suspicion telling me that she’s so much more than one of the typical girls downstairs who would trade their bodies to me in a heartbeat without so much as considering the cost. And as much as her body tempts me, it is this inner beauty that draws me in more, the innate goodness that remains inside her heart and the swift intellect behind the golden chocolate of her eyes.
“Dinner. That is the condition. Have dinner with me.”
Her breath falters, and though she disguises it quickly, I see the quick flash of confusion in her eyes before she schools her features.
“Like a date? But that’s like rule number one around here. Girls and staff don’t mix.”
She’s not wrong. I have many rules, and one of the most steadfast ones is that there is no fraternization inside the club. Employees are strictly forbidden from dating, an offense punishable by many rather creative consequences, up to and including death, depending on the betrayal and rank of offenders.
Only one couple has ever violated that rule and gotten away with it, although I overlooked that because of the other benefits involved in that particular transaction. Having a marker with the FBI is a powerful token in my line of work.
I shrug my shoulders, smiling a little. “You are correct. And you know from personal experience that I don’t break my own rules. How is Maggie, by the way?”
“Well, uhm . . . happy.” Frustratingly, one half of that couple is one of Allie’s best friends, but sometimes, you can’t choose your friends. I couldn’t deny Allie her friend in any case. “But you and I—”
“Would no longer be employer and employee,” I finish for her reassuringly. “In this scenario, you become more contractor than employee, so a date is no different than if I saw the CEO of the beer distributing company I utilize but do not employ.”
Her eyes narrow, her cheeks flushing in delightful jealousy. “And have you dated the beer CEO?”
I adore her reaction but keep my face neutral as I nod knowingly. “We have had dinner many times. Ron is a rather entertaining fellow, and his wife is delightful.”
She chuckles, just the way I’d hoped she would, but then she sobers slightly, sarcasm teasing at the edges of her words.
“But you wouldn’t be setting a very good example if you go around seemingly breaking your own rules. Some of your men could see it as your splitting hairs. You could be inciting mass-anarchy.”
