The color rushes right back to her cheeks, even more heated than before.
This conversation has gone off the rails. I came to find her to ask about the bruise, and the man who upset her two nights ago. Not fight with her about the fucking auction. She’ll never get on that stage. I won’t fucking allow it.
“You’d keep me from making money?”
“I’d keep you safe from the men who buy the girls at this auction.”
“You tell the girls it’s safe for them to be in the auction. The club provides security; they don’t have to leave the club with them. There’s minimal danger; isn’t that what Kaz tells us every time he puts one together?”
“Yes. That’s all true.”
“Then there’s no reason I can’t sign up. It’s safe. It’ll make me a ton of money in one night.” She raises an eyebrow.
“I don’t want you in the auction.” It’s selfish of me. I don’t give a fuck.
“Why?” She presses. “Why would you care if I’m in it and not if Caroline’s in it?”
Because Caroline doesn’t keep me awake at night with worry when she drops food all over the floor and flees the club. Because Caroline doesn’t slip into my dreams, taunting me with what I can’t have because she’s on my payroll.
And because I don’t want to tear the limbs off the men who try to get Caroline to go home with them at night.
“You host these auctions. You give entry to these men. You’re no better than any of them.” Her lips curl inward.
She’s right. I’m not. In some ways I’m worse.
It would be better for her to stay away from me. Not that I’ll let her.
“Tell me about the bruise, Vivienne,” I order her.
Her shoulders drop, and for a second, I think she’s going to scream, she looks so flustered.
“I’m not talking to you about my personal life. It has nothing to do with work, and it’s none of your business. No one hurt me; it’s just a bruise.”
Pushing isn’t getting me anywhere. I knew it wouldn’t. Not with her. There’s a wall around her, one made of steel andstubbornness. It will take more than a simple command to get what I want from her.
“Fair enough,” I concede but point to the auction list. “But that is work, and it is my business. You’re not putting your name on that list.”
Her jaw flexes.
“You seem to confuse employer with owner.” She picks up the pen dangling from the board and scribbles her name at the bottom of the list. “I have to pee.”
Spinning on her heel a little harder than she needed to, probably to prove a point, she stumbles her first step. She recovers and saunters out of the room to the bathroom stalls with a sway to her hips that makes the hem of her dress brush against her thighs with each step.
It’s cute.
She thinks she’s had the last say in the matter.
The door butts into me as someone tries to open it.
“Ivan?” Meredith speaks through the small opening. “You’re needed upstairs. There’s a problem.”
“You sure you’re good?” Caroline pulls her fingers through her hair once more, her thick curls bouncing back like some Charlie’s Angels character.
She has the body for it, too. She’s changed out of the Obsidian uniform dress and into a black slinky number that shows off her sculpted thighs and every one of her perfectly proportioned curves.
“I’m good. Go. Enjoy your night.” I wave her off while I open my locker. “I’m just throwing on my jeans and getting out of here.”
“Okay.” She pulls the door open. “Wish me luck, I’m meeting Jeremy.”
