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ChapterTwo
Shaking my head, I quickly stand and excuse myself to the back room. I have no idea who Mr. Reed is or where he comes from, but something tells me he is not a man I want to associate with. Men like him, the looks, the wealth, I know better than to become involved with.
Besides, I have to keep my focus clear. School. That's where my concentration needs to be. Not off in the clouds because some hot guy showed up and knocked me off my game a bit. I can't afford to be distracted. I have to keep my grades up to keep my scholarship. While the club pays well, it does not pay enough to cover the cost of all of my classes or my dorm for that matter. And lord knows if I have one weakness in this world, it's an attractive man.
Once I make it to my dressing room, I quickly strip out of my outfit and into a pair of yoga pants and a tank top, throwing my hair in a messy bun before gathering up my things. Technically my shift doesn't end for another half an hour but I seriously doubt Josh will care if I head out early, considering how slow the club is tonight.
I exit into the dim hallway and turn right heading for the back entrance, when Lo's voice pulls me to a halt. Turning slowly, I see her jogging towards me, her blonde waves bouncing perfectly with each step she takes, for some reason reminding me of an episode ofBaywatch.
“Hey.” I say, when she finally reaches me.
“Josh is looking for you.” She says, attempting to catch her breath.
I groan out, looking towards the exit and then back to Lo, before deciding there is no way I can just leave without seeing what he wants. “Where is he?” I ask, trying my best not to let my aggravation show through.
“He said he will meet you in the back office.” She says, gesturing to the door that sits just a couple down from my dressing room.
“Did he say what it's about?” I ask.
“Nope. But it probably has something to do with Bentley.” She says, causing my eyebrows to shoot up in question. “The man that wanted the private from you.” She says in explanation. I try my best to seem completely unaffected by learning Mr. Reed's first name. Bentley. Just thinking it makes me squirm.
“How did you find out his name?” I ask without really thinking.
“I asked, duh.” She says, rolling her eyes at me. “Honestly, Anna.... Shit, Logan. I can't believe you wouldn't give him a private. That man is F. I. N. E.! Fine, fine, fine.” She laughs, fanning herself. “Maybe Josh wants in too. You know, a little sandwich action.” She pretends to hump someone from behind, her hand swiping through the air as she fake smacks the imaginary ass in front of her.
“You're ridiculous.” I say, laughing as I push my way past her and head towards Josh's office.
“That's why you love me.” She sings from behind me, disappearing inside her dressing room before I have a chance to say anything else.
Knocking lightly on the office door, I wait for Josh to tell me to come in before turning the handle and pushing my way inside. I spot him immediately, sitting behind a desk entirely too large for the space, his reading glasses perched on the end of his nose like he's a ninety year old man instead of the attractive thirty-eight year old that he is.
Josh is one of those manly men. Broad and commanding and yet so very sweet at the same time. His dark hair is short and rarely styled and he has the softest brown eyes I have ever seen. Throw in a crooked smile and a sense of humor that will have you buckled over in laughter, he really is an awesome guy. And I would be lying if I said that I didn't know just how awesome he is up close and personal.
He honestly does not strike me as the type to run a business such asAllure.I see him more as a construction manager or doing something where manual labor is involved. He just has that roughness about him.
“Sit.” He says, meeting my eyes the moment I walk inside.
“What's up?” I ask, as I take a seat in one of the office chairs across the desk from him.
“I need to know what's going on with you and Mr. Reed and why he requested to see your personnel file within ten minutes of arriving here this evening?” He says, clearly trying to make it sound like this has nothing to do with anything but business though I doubt that's the case.
“I'm sorry... What?” I ask, completely confused. Why would a client think he would be privileged to such information? Not only does that file contain everything about me, my address, my school information, it also includes a very extensive back ground check, per the club requirements. We deal with some very high end clientele and as such, will not employ anyone with even a blemish on their record.
“Why would he ask for that? Clients aren't privileged to that type of information.” I say, my words running into one another.
“Client?” Josh questions, his expression clouded with confusion. Slipping off his glasses, he tosses them on the desk before continuing. “Logan, Mr. Reed is not a client. He ownsAllureand five other clubs like it across the east coast.” He says, his words dripping with disbelief. “You were sitting with him, surely you knew that.”
“I didn't.” I insist, shaking my head back and forth. “Oh God.” I say, holding my hand over my mouth. “Are you going to fire me?” I ask, the thought causing panic to grip tight in my chest.
“Why would I fire you?” The question seems to catch him off guard as he stands and crosses the small space, taking a seat in the chair next to me.
“He requested a private and I told him no.” My words flow so quickly from my mouth they come out a jumbled mess. He reaches out and rests his hand on my leg just above my knee, immediately halting my nervous leg bounce that I have no idea I am even doing until someone points it out.
“It is your right to say no to a private. You know that. I just wanted to see if you knew why he requested your file.” He says, his voice coming out soft and reassuring, his hand skirting gently across my knee.
“I have no clue.” I say, meeting his eyes again. “Honestly. I didn't even know who he was.” I say, still in shock.
He ownsAllure, and other clubs too? He can't be any older than late twenties, early thirties. I had him pegged for someone that came from money, rich parents or something. Finding out he owns the very place I work, kind of explains our interaction a little better. No wonder no one tells him no. Because he owns the damn club and several others like it. Only someone who doesn't care for her job, or in my case didn't know who he was, would have the balls to say no to the man who holds their employment in his hands.
