Rushing to my locker, I quickly spun the dial on the lock, twisting and turning until I heard the little click. Yanking it off the locker, I opened the door and pulled out my play bag. Tossing it onto the lounge next to my tray, I twisted my apron around and started working on the bow holding it to my waist.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I whispered as the bow magically transformed into a knot. Closing my eyes, I took a deep, calming breath and managed to steady my shaking hands. Centered, I looked down and slowly worked the knot loose. The fabric resisted, but eventually, I managed to work myself free.
Whipping it off my waist, I stuffed the apron into my bag and then fumbled for my boots.
“This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening.” The burning in my blood from the adrenaline coursing through my veins told me that this was indeed happening. It didn’t matter that I’d planned on quitting within days. I hadn’t wanted him to see me this way. I hadn’t wanted his image of me warped by what I did here, by what I needed. Him seeing me in nothing but a pair of sheer, lace booty shorts; a matching 1950s housewife’s apron; and my favorite pair of combat boots—boots that protected my feet from glass and whatever else might be lurking on the floor while looking pretty badass while doing it—would only serve as ammunition for him when I quit.
“There goes that reference,” I said, shoving my boots to the side and scrambling into my jeans. “Oh, god, I’m screwed. I’m beyond screwed. I’m fucked.” I pulled on my T-shirt and sat back down. Reaching for my boots, I jammed my feet into them and began lacing them back up. “I’m so, so, so fucked.”
I’d never expected to see him sitting as pretty as he pleased with the owners of my club, Spencer, and some Daddy and boy I’d never seen before. I’d had to force myself to return with their drinks as if nothing was wrong, as if my two worlds weren’t colliding right in front of me.
“What am I going to do?” I asked myself. “Alaska! I’ll pack up my apartment and move to Alaska. That’s reasonable, right? No,” I said, shaking my head as I answered my question. “Not far enough, I bet he knows people in Alaska. India! It’s on the other side of the world. I’m sure India is lovely this time of year. I already love the food, and I can start watching Bollywood. I’ll love it there.”
I stopped my senseless rambling and froze when the only door leading into the locker room opened. My chest felt heavy as I held my breath and waited for Mr. Chamberlain to round the corner to berate me. Instead, I released my pent-up breath as Kane entered the room.
A bouncer and dungeon monitor for the club, Kane was one of a select group of people that I trusted explicitly. Well, him and his brother, Kyle, who was working the front door. They looked very similar. So similar in fact, that most people thought they were twins. They had the same muscular build, were covered in tattoos, and both could pull off that don’t-fuck-with-me look even though they were both big, cuddly teddy bears inside.
“Are you okay, N?” he said as he approached me. “I noticed you running through the crowd and wanted to come check in on you.” He looked down and noticed my trembling hands. “Hey,” he whispered as he pushed over my bag and took the seat next to mine. “Did something happen? Did someone say or do anything to you?”
“I need you to do me a favor,” I said as I stood and pulled Kane up with me. I tugged him to the door, stepped behind him, and placed my hands on his back. I gave him a small shove toward the closed door. “I need you to look for someone for me.”
“Okay, okay. Chill,” he said, opening the door and sticking his head out. “Who am I looking for?”
“He’s tall, early-to-mid thirties, short black hair, a little scruffy,” I said, finally knowing what he looked like when he didn’t trim his beard for a day. “He’s wearing a thin sweater, gray maybe, and dark dress pants. He was sitting with Carson, Foster, Spencer, and some other guys I didn’t recognize in one of the booths by the bar.”
Kane leaned further out and stood on his toes. “You said he was with Spencer?”
I latched onto the back of his T-shirt. “Yes! Do you see him?”
“Depends,” Kane drawled as he looked over his shoulder at me. “This guy, does he look like he could cut you with a look?”
That sounded like Mr. Chamberlain all right. “Yes. What’s he doing?” I asked, needing to know if he was looking for me or, god forbid, heading in our direction.
“It looks like he’s leaving with Spencer.” Kane turned around and looked again. “But it also looks like he searching for someone. You, perhaps?”
Groaning, I collapsed against his back and buried my face into him. “I’m so fucked.”
“Okay, that’s it.” Kane turned around and grabbed me by the shoulders. Turning me, he marched me back to the couch, pushed me down, and returned to his spot. “I’m not letting you leave until you tell me what’s going on with that guy. I’ve never seen you act like this.”
Dropping my head into my hands, I sighed. “That’s kidnapping.”
“Tough,” he said, wrapping an arm around me and tugging me in close. “Spill, N.”
“That guy out there…”
“Yes?”
“Oh god, that guy is my new boss.” There I’d said it. “And when I say boss, I mean my professional, pays-the-bills, Monday-morning, vanilla-job boss. I’m his secretary.”
“Oh…”
Oh was fucking right.
Kane cleared his throat as the silence stretched between us. “I mean, did he see you like…?”
I looked up to see Kane pointing his thumb toward the door and the rest of the club.
I knew I had the most miserable expression on my face as I nodded. “I served his table. I was walking around and made eye contact with this Daddy who had a boy on his lap. He lifted his hand, so I walked over. I asked if I could get him anything, and he ordered a drink for his boy. After I took his order, I looked to the rest of the booth, and there he was! Staring right at me!”
“Maybe he didn’t recognize you?” Kane said, and even I could hear the doubt in his tone.
“I was five feet from the man. He recognized me.” I reached up and scrubbed my hands across my face. “Kill me now.”
“Hey,” he said, jostling my shoulder. “It can’t be that bad. He was here too.”
“Being here doesn’t mean anything, Kane. A lot of people come here to look around, to gawk at the freaks.”
Kane shook his head. “I don’t think he was here just to gawk if he was sitting with Carson, Foster, and Spencer.”
“I’ve been coming here almost every weekend for the past couple of years, and I have never seen him here before. If he liked this kind of stuff, he would have been in by now. Maybe he had some sort of business meeting with them or something.”
He laughed, giving me a hopeful smile. “Or maybe he’s a late bloomer?”
I laughed, thinking Mr. Chamberlain was never late to anything. “I wish,” I said dryly, realizing too late what I was revealing. “I mean—”
Kane’s smile turned more suggestive. “Oh, I see how it is. N has a thing for his boss.”