I pull myself out of the trance long enough to remember I’m supposed to be working and need to check on the people paying me to be here. As I near Ms. Harlin, I peek to the back wall, where Harper, Sadie, and Wade have been watching and observing. I’ve grown used to finding her across the open space, but this time when I look in her direction to catch her eye, I find she’s already watching me.
Even with no sleep and a hellish night, she looks stunning. Her lips are pulled into a tight line as she converses with her sister and Wade, finding the hulking man standing at attention,probably working hard to keep his face blank at whatever the two ladies behind him are whispering about. Harper continues speaking to her sister, but her eyes continue to shadow me as I walk to where our guest of honor waits.
Ms. Harlin, though slightly slurring in her speech, graciously thanks me and the rest of the staff for a wonderful andentertainingevening, letting the last few words weigh seductively as she leans on the table for support. I give a polite smile of appreciation, wishing her a lovely evening for the remainder of her time atCirque,and start to turn away and head back to my duties.
Cassie stands on wobbly heels as she peers around at the members of her entourage pairing off for the private rooms, and clutches onto my forearm before I can turn away. I fight the urge to yank my arm out of her grasp, worried it will end up with her drunkenly sprawled on the floor. If I didn’t think it would be a headache for Harper to have to deal with, I would happily watch this vapid creature fall on her ass.
She teeters on absurdly high heels, leaning a little more of her weight onto the hand that’s latched onto my arm. She steadies herself, taking a step into my space and bringing her other hand up to run a finger over the buttons of my shirt.
“I think I’m ready for my private show now,” she says in what I’m sure she thinks is a sensual purr, but ends up coming out sounding more like a drunken Muppet. She hiccups once, the severity of it shaking her thin frame.
“I’m not available, as I made clear the other day through your assistant,” I tell her, stepping back so her hand on my chest falls away. When she doesn’t let me go, I gently pry her fingers off my arm, careful not to be too rough or jostle her enough that the Weeble finally wobbles her ass to the ground.
If I thought she was a good actor before, that illusion would have been shattered in seconds as I watch her face shift from confusion to embarrassment and embarrassment to anger.Before she switches to entitlement and causes a scene that sees security tossing her over a shoulder and out the door, I make a last-ditch effort to let her down respectfully. But more importantly, firmly.
“I hope you have a lovely evening, Ms. Harlin, but there is only one person who gets private shows from me, and you are not her. Enjoy your night.” I turn away from her and make my way to where Sadie and Wade stand guard.
But no Harper in sight.
I turn to Sadie, a question in my eyes that I don’t get to vocalize before she’s giving the answer. “She decided to go down to the gym since she missed her earlier workout today,” she tells me, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth but still managing to look amused.
I shift to head to the stairwell that leads to the gym downstairs, when Wade shifts in front of me, stopping me dead. He shakes his head once, and I’m not sure if he’s letting me know I’m not getting by him, or warning me not to try to.
He’s wearing a black dress shirt and dress pants, but it does nothing to make him look less intimidating. If anything, the stretch across his broad chest gives even more pause to those debating crossing him. He has a few inches of height to my six foot three, black hair cut into a sharp and clean buzz cut, his skin a deep umber with chestnut eyes. He isn’t just a large man; he’s a built man, his forearms corded where they are crossed over the expanse of his chest. He’s the type of strong that comes from not only hours honed in the gym but also a lifestyle and hobbies that built his frame over years.
I’ve always considered myself a guy who can hold their own in a fight. But I’m also notstupid.
In any other circumstance, his ability to intimidate without actually having to speak would be impressive and admirable. Knowing he’s using all that brooding skill to protect my girl. Unfortunately, I’m the one she’s decided she needs protectingfrom. I’m also pretty sure she would be okay with him roughing me up a little just for referring to her asmy girl.
“Ms. Mathers wanted me to advise that you shower. The doctor’s orders were to keep your wound clean.” He pauses as we peer down together at my clean, white, pressed shirt, the shadow of gauze barely visible where it covers my wound. Wade coughs, bringing my gaze back to him. “You don’t know where her hands have been. Her words, not mine,” he adds the last part quickly, doing his best to fend off a smirk. And failing.
I think we are going to be friends, Wade.
I nod my head, running my thumb across my bottom lip as I ponder the directive. I think Harper and I need to clear up a few things about whose hands belong on me.
15
HARPER
Iknow it’s time to be done at the punching bag when I can barely hold myself up, arms and lungs burning in equal measure. Boxing was suggested by Sadie as a way to let a little of my rage out in smaller doses, referring to it asCirque’ssafety protocol.
I rip my gloves off, feeling betrayed by the bag for the first time since I took up the sport. The methodical thud of my fist against the heavyweight having done nothing to soothe the frustration and anger threatening to overflow. Sweat drips from my forehead onto the mat, once, twice, before I grab the towel and run it across my forehead.
I don’t want to feel this way. I don’t want tofeel.
I have never left a private event before it’s over. Most things I trust my staff with implicitly to see through, but private events usually hold a different expectation of my personal involvement. I close my eyes, working on box breathing that Sadie tried to teach me a few years ago, not getting very far before my exhale sounds more like a growl.
Her body leaning into his, one hand holding his arm while the other ran along his chest, toying with the buttons of hisshirt like she was impatient to see it tossed aside. The same chest I was pressed against only a few nights ago. The same arms that wrapped around my body to tease and toy withme.
I check my phone as I walk out of the gym through the entrance back into the club, Wade standing at attention, patiently waiting for me.
“What’s the rundown for the night? Anything noteworthy happen after I left?” I ask, trying to keep my face blank and tone neutral, but I can feel the petty curiosity bleeding into the words. He’s only been here a day, but I feel like he’s already seen too much, observed too many indiscretions, paid too much attention. He bites the inside of his cheek to stifle his grin, acutely aware of what I’m really asking. Did she touch him again? Did he escort her to a private room? Do you think people would notice if she disappeared?
Worse, did he leave with her for an after-party of two? Wade smiles ruefully but tells me there were no incidents following my departure.
“Colton made sure all the guests were safely tucked away in their private cars to take them home, security in tow. I believe only a few staff members are left here for the night, and the security team, other than myself, has moved on to outer perimeter detail,” he tells me. He doesn’t clarify whether Colton is one of those staff members still at the club or if he went home, preferably alone.
My skin feels itchy and too tight, my muscles roaring at me for the soothing balm of my scorching hot shower.