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Lilly
Christian Giordano…
That was him.
The guy who own the Bugatti I ran my car into. That’s him and he’s just booked me for the night for five thousand dollars.
My God…
Louise smiled as she told me, like I’d just won the lottery.
I could see why she’d be happy for me. I just earned my first five grand for a booking. And money aside, the man is ridiculously gorgeous. His arresting good looks are the kind I would have swooned over too in another life.
Louise took me to the floor of his penthouse suite and left me a few minutes ago to make the rest of the way by myself.
His is the last one on the corridor on the left. I can see it. Shaky legs carry me to his door that’s already open, waiting for me to go in.
Drawing in a breath I walk inside, moving into the dimly lit corridor. I see a balcony and a living room area with a wide screen TV that takes up the whole length of the wall.
Something flickers and my heart squeezes. There’s a shuffle of footsteps and I know he’s either on the balcony, or near it.
What will he say to me when he sees me?
What will he do?
What willwedo?
I was all ballsy before, being strong in my mind as I thought of Rosie and my life.
Now I’m not so sure.
My hands…I can’t stop them from shaking and my heart has been racing a hundred miles an hour.
Rosie…
I’m doing this for her. I will do this for her. scared as I may be, I have to do this for her.
I follow the sound, walking slowly, carefully to the balcony. Then I see him. Christian Giordano is standing by the rail, smoking another cigar. Against the mingle of moonlight and the amber glow of light on the balcony he looks like a gothic painting depicting a dark angel, or the devil. I’m not sure which yet. What I’m sure of is that this guy is trouble in every sense of the word. Now I know it for certainty.
One of the things that troubled me about working here, minus the ninety- nine percent chance of having to have sex with whoever wanted me, was the whole mafia aspect of the club.
Chicago has a fair amount of mafia influence. Things I shouldn’t know but do. After my not so wonderful Cartel experience I can spot guys like him and know exactly what they’re like from the get-go.
I’m unnerved by his intense stare, but I expect it. What I don’t know is what he’s going to do next. Men like him are unpredictable and volatile. They change like the wind and you never know what you’re gonna get from one moment to the next.
He puts out his cigar on the ashtray on the little table beside him and lifts a document. He holds it up and I realize it’s a contract.Mycontract. I can see my name. I signed that contract three weeks ago. Three months after the marketing firm I worked for went bust and desperate times truly hit me.
“So… it turns out that Lilly St. James who ran her piece of shit car into the back of my Bugatti is the same Lilly St. James who works for me,” he states in that deep baritone that commands attention.
I don’t wish to remember the thing that gave me the push to take the job. Things keep pushing me a long, but when a disgusting perv sees you and your baby hungry in the park, and offers to give you ten bucks to suck his cock, so you can feed your child, you will take whatever job you can get.
That’s what got me here along with the threat of Lev’s thugs harassing me for the ten grand I owe. It was enough. I saw the job listing online and I applied.
“It turns out I am. I didn’t mean to run into your car,” I apologize again.
Christian smiles at me and the smile too is disarming. The dimple in his right cheek softens his hard appearance and his eyes hold a sheen of purpose that quickly disappears when as smile fades.
“Age twenty-six, holds a bachelor of fine arts from Julliard, worked in LA for two years with the American Contemporary Ballet. Nothing for the last four years and now you’re here in my club, as the angel in my show.”
