“Stay away from her,” I say before I turn, leaving Reese at his table, and stalk toward the new girl.
When I’m standing in front of her, she becomes stiff with recognition.
“Did he bother you?” I grit out of clenched teeth.
Her eyes are wide in shock. “No.” She shakes her head. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
She’s much prettier up close, rocking the sweet, innocent girl-next-door look. I know the truth, though. Regardless of how innocent she looks, she’s anything but.
It makes her that much more intriguing.
I shouldn’t want to know more about her, but I do.
4
Bailey
The night is finally over, and I can barely stand. I’m still unnerved by my first run-in with my boss. He barely said anything. Just came over like he was willing to rip off the head of the drunk loser in room three.
I only saw him that one time, but it was enough to leave an impression. Now that the club is closed, all the adrenaline has left, and my body aches, every muscle wrung so tight that one missed step would bring me down.
It’s after three thirty in the morning, and thankfully, the bass is no longer hammering through my ears. However, as my gaze shifts around the room, I realize the music was the least of my problems. The VIP tables, the bar . . .
This place is a fucking mess.
The debauchery and sin still clinging to the surfaces long after the last patron has gone.
Reaching under the cabinet to grab a rag, I let out a louder groan. The sound reverberates off the walls, causing Carter to turn his whole body toward me from down the bar.
“Damn, girl. You okay?” Our eyes meet, and his eyebrow raises.
“My whole body feels like it’s been hit by a freight train.” I stretch my arms out toward my sides and cringe for emphasis.
“Your body will get used to it.”
“Promise?” I say, and he winks at me.
“Yeah, I promise. You did good tonight. Now we just have to finish sorting the bottles, and the cleaning crew who comes in at five will handle the rest.” I can’t even suppress the sound coming out of my mouth. I sound like a dying animal that just wants to be put out of my misery.
A boisterous laugh leaves his mouth. “Need a drink?” he drawls out. “Maybe a pick-me-up?” His lip quirks up into a large grin as he reaches into his back pocket. As he pulls his hand out, I can see he’s clutching something in his hand, hard. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist to know what he’s hiding.
“A small bump is just what the doctor ordered for cleanup time, and with boss man gone, no need to hide in the back storage room.”
“I don’t do drugs.” A shiver runs down my spine, and I feel a wrinkle forming between my brows. His eyes narrow.
“That’s the second time you got weird tonight. There’s definitely a story here. So come on, Bailey, what’s your deal?”
“I-I, um . . .” My hand lifts to pinch my nose.
“I might seem a bit flaky, but I’m trustworthy. I know we don’t know each other, but I’d like to change that. If you want to talk . . .” He trails off as he gauges my reaction.
“It’s too late to go there right now, and there’s still way too much to clean. But maybe after?”
He nods. “Okay, how about we clean and reconvene in thirty minutes. There’s a great diner down the street. It might be too late in the night to eat, but it’s never too early for coffee.”
I can feel my teeth gnaw on my lower lip as I think about how nice it would be to have a friend here. Someone to talk to. “Yeah, I’d like that.” I turn away, but before I leave the bar, I look over my shoulder, catching his gaze one more time. “Thanks, Carter.” He smiles broadly, and for the first time in forever, I feel good about the possibility of unloading my burdens on someone else.
We’re sitting quietly at a small booth in a twenty-four-hour diner, and I can feel my heart leaping in my chest.
“You okay?”
Lifting my gaze to his, I start to rub at the back of my neck. “I guess I’m a bit nervous.”
“No reason to be nervous.” He gives me a reassuring smile. “You don’t have to share anything you don’t want to.”
I let out a deep breath. I can do this. “I’m an addict,” I blurt out. “I’ve been clean for two years.”
His hand reaches across the table, and I pull mine away from my neck and place my hand in his. He gives me a little squeeze, and I can feel my eyes begin to mist. “I used to be . . . I was in an accident. I started to take pills for the pain. It started out just a pill here and there, and the next thing you know, I was missing school, running up debt, and well, that was just the beginning.” Thinking of all the things I would do when I was high makes my stomach churn. “I did some stuff I’m not proud of, but then it got so bad. One morning, I woke up—”
“You don’t have to tell me the details, Bailey.”
I nod. That’s as much as I’m willing to share right now.
“I know a thing or two about addictions. It’s been a tough habit to kick. I don’t know how you’ve managed to stay clean for two years, but one day, you’ll have to share your secret with me.” He smiles.
“You have to be ready. If you aren’t, no program in the world will help.”
“One day. Soon,” he emphasizes. “Thank you for trusting me. I won’t squander that trust.”
I believe him.
“School?” he questions.
“No. Right now, I’m just trying to stay clean. It’s proving to be a test of wills living in this city, especially now that I work at a club.” I sigh. “I was taking classes, but I missed more than I attended. I dropped out to figure everything out. I want to go back, but I can’t afford it right now. I need to get caught up with bills, and then I hope to start back up again.”
“I can imagine it’s tough working at the club, but Drew’s rules will help. Can’t drink on the job, can’t do drugs on the job. And now that I know your truth, I won’t try to convince you to do either behind boss man’s back. I’ve got you.”
His sincerity warms me. “I’m happy I met you.”
“Me too.” His mouth parts into a huge smile. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship,” he says in his best Bogart impersonation, and I can’t help but laugh.
“So, model and actor, eh?”
He groans. “I don’t know if you can call it that when I haven’t had any work in over a year.”
“Why? I’d think people would be lining up for you.”
“It’s a hard business to break into.”
I take a sip from my coffee and sigh at the bitter goodness. “How old are you?” I ask.
“A gentleman never tells.”
“I’m pretty sure that’s not the saying.” I giggle.
“Since we’re friends and all, I’ll tell you my secret. I’m twenty-eight.” He mock-gasps. “Another reason the agents aren’t lining up at my door.”
“Twenty-eight is still young,” I assure him.