They’ve already paid their bill.
Smiles and laughter may accompany their table, but the two drunkest can’t seem to drag the third away. The one requesting the napkin from Braelynn.
I could sit here and watch on the cameras. I can already see it playing out in a number of ways.
She denies the man again, and they leave, easy enough.
She denies them and they don’t leave, in which case, my security escorts them out. They’re already watching just as I am.
Those are the only two possibilities. Yet I find myself rising from my chair, my jaw clenched as I push open my door, not bothering to lock it. I take the stairs two at a time, shoving open the dining room door.
I’m not in control, I’m not even thinking.
There is no reason whatsoever that when I see her smile kindly, shaking her head politely and without a hint of distress and the man in question drops his head and raises his hands, his friends laughing easily … there’s not a reason in the world that this anger should rise inside me. This building fire.
Except that she already told them she was mine.
I heard on the fucking cameras.
He already knew. She fucking told them. Whether or not they believed her isn’t my problem.
“Boss.” My security’s call for me comes just before the sound of cursing and a picked-up pace from the men at my back.
The men are unsuspecting as Braelynn shies back just slightly.
With the skin stretched tight over my knuckles, turning white and blazing with a heat that’s untamed, my fist lands against his jaw.
Surprising every one of them. Braelynn gasps, scooting back against a chair and nearly falling. The two men standing gape at me, their hands up as their friend lies lifeless on the floor.
“She said no.” I barely get the words out, my chest heaving and my vision turning red.
Braelynn
My eyes are rimmed red and burn with exhaustion, but I can’t bring myself to go into the bedroom yet. It’s pitch black this late at night and far too quiet. My mind isn’t quiet, though. It’s running in circles around the night I’ve just had at The Club. My knee rocks absently as I think about my first day … well, really all I can think about is Declan Cross.
Even when my phone pings, I think it will be him offering me an explanation of what happened. I’ve never been so close to a fight like that. If you can even call it a fight. That man didn’t have a chance in hell. Declan strode in, knocked him out and stormed out as if nothing had happened. I was stunned to say the least, and if security hadn’t escorted me out, I would probably still be standing there wondering what the hell had happened.
Checking my phone, it’s not Declan.
Scarlet: Hey, you …
I’m curled up on my couch under a knitted blanket I brought from my mother’s, and for a moment I consider not answering her. I need to talk to someone, though.
Braelynn: Hey.
I just got home a little after 4:00 a.m., and I feel like I barely survived.
Scarlet: You okay?
I try to keep telling myself that nothing much even happened, other than the last two minutes. Even if I discounted that, the office meeting with Declan was intimidating to say the least. Declan isn’t the boy I remember. I’m sure none of the Cross brothers are the way I remember, but I didn’t realize he would be so different. I didn’t know he would be so powerful, and so sexy, and …
Braelynn: I could be better. I think I’m in over my head.
My thoughts don’t stop. It’s like my mind is running faster than I can process. The whole situation escalated before I could stop it. And the waitresses have sex with people in those rooms on the lower floor. It’s not just one warning sign, it’s a big row of red flags. They scream at me to run away.
Braelynn: I could not have anticipated tonight.
Staring down at my phone, I wonder how that’s all I have to say. Maybe I’m still overwhelmed by everything.
Scarlet: It’s a lot but it’s worth it. Really. It might be rough at first, but I think you pretty much got the full gist of everything all at once.
I’m dumbstruck at Scarlet’s response. That shit isn’t normal. Rubbing my eyes, I let my head fall back as I cringe at the thought. What happened today does not exist in the world I live in.
Fistfights. Paid sex. Declan Cross.
I think about telling her I’m done. I even type out the text. Thanks so much for getting me the job, but I can’t go back. I’m in the process of deleting it when Scarlet sends another message.
Scarlet: I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about the red dresses. It’s not always a hard and fast rule and I didn’t want to freak you out!
With everything that took place, I can’t even be mad about the red dress. Nothing happened.
Braelynn: It’s okay, it just caught me by surprise. A heads-up would have been nice though.
Scarlet: I really am sorry. Are you okay? Feeling good about your next shift?
Maybe I’m overreacting because of the stress and the adrenaline.
Braelynn: Tonight was a lot.
I expected a busy night learning the ropes at a new place. I didn’t expect Declan Cross. I didn’t expect him to get in a fistfight over me. And I definitely didn’t expect the red dresses and what comes with them.
Scarlet: The Club is a lot but … it pays well. I forgot to ask you how you made out?
My gaze drifts to my purse, hanging over the staircase to my right. There’s at least a grand in cash. I haven’t counted yet, but it’s far more than I anticipated. It’s more than I could have even dreamed, I know that.
The side pocket of my purse is bulging with all the bills inside.
Braelynn: You were right about the money. I don’t think I could get better tips anywhere else in the city.
Scarlet: See! I told you! So it’s all good? Forgive me for the red dress and let’s become rich bitches together!
Although I huff a small laugh and feel the first touch of relief since I left, I just can’t shake how Declan made me feel. I felt sorry for him. Curious about how he’d become that man. And if I’m honest with myself, I felt scared too. Power bows around him in his office and in The Club, and every time he looked at me, he made it clear that I had none.
Braelynn: I’m good. Declan is intense.
Scarlet: Did he hurt you??
Her question takes me aback, I even flinch at it. Until I remember the punch. Maybe he’s … maybe he’s just like that.
Braelynn: No. Should I be worried that he would?
Scarlet: I’ve never heard of any woman getting hurt. Not in the club and not by him. But what do you mean by intense? That guy? He should have listened when you said no the first time.
I type then delete. Type then delete. It’s frustrating because so much of it is simply how I feel. How do I explain this to her? This overwhelming feeling like something bad is going to happen. Something that leaves me powerless and at the mercy of a man who doesn’t seem to know what that word means.
Braelynn: He didn’t hurt me. I just … I used to know him. Sort of.
Scarlet: How?
Braelynn: Long story, too much to text.
I unfold myself from the couch and make my way to the small kitchen. My bare feet pad on the laminate floor.
The layout for the first floor is simple enough. I could walk circles in the townhouse. There’s a bathroom and coat closet in the center with their doors on the right. Dining room in the back, hallway on the right with a staircase, living room in the front, and kitchen on the left.