“Come on, let’s get going,” Kia said, sounding nervous. “God, I hate when that guy’s in here. His fucking goons never tip and they all want free lap dances.”
“I can’t believe he’s doing this,” I say, not looking at Kia, staring hate at Vince and Calvino. “I mean, seriously, what the hell?”
“Gracie.” Kia grabs my arm. “I don’t know what little drama is playing out in your head but that man’s extremely dangerous and we were just told to do a job. I think we’d better do it, right?”
I grind my jaw but force myself to turn away. I can’t get Kia in trouble just because I want to burn this entire place to the ground, so I follow her and we prep the back room, put out some drinks, get the lighting right, fluff the pillows, make sure everything’s clean and such, and by the time Kia’s gone and I’m putting on the finishing touches, Vincent appears in the doorway.
He stands there smirking at me with a cold smile as I step aside and let him enter. “Your room is ready, sir,” I say, glaring at him and not even trying to hide it.
Sometimes I think I really do have a death wish.
“Thank you. What was your name again?”
I roll my eyes. “Funny.”
“Oh, Grace, I almost didn’t recognize you with your tits out. I’m surprised my brother lets you still work here considering you’re his girlfriend. Calvino doesn’t seem like the type to enjoy it when men stare at his woman’s body.”
I grimace slightly and make note of that—it might be worth mentioning to Calvino in the future if we want to make our relationship feel more authentic. But sometimes I get the feeling Vincent’s very wrong about that—and Calvino actually enjoys watching me get pawed at and slobbered over, like he enjoys knowing others want me and can’t have me.
“I like working, but thanks for your advice and for staring at my chest, you pig. Are you only nice when Charlie’s around?”
“Pretty much. But she’s not here, is she?” He looms over me, grinning huge, and I wonder how far this bastard would take this if I kept pushing him.
“No, she’s not, and maybe you should—” I’m about to tell him to go fuck off and die when Raven hustles past me, takes Vince’s arm, and leads him over to the couch as she coos and flirts and says how much she missed him and his big hard cock.
I roll my shoulders to ease some tension and get the hell out of there before I do something stupid.
Back in the main room, Vince’s guys are sitting right next to the stage while Monique dances. They’re throwing singles and laughing loudly and drinking too much, and I can tell Monique hates them with a passion, but she’s a pro and doesn’t let it stop her dance. Sunshine passes me on the way to the back—she grins and winks and I know what she’s about to do with Vince and Raven and it fucking sickens me.
I think of Charlie on the beach smiling at me like the world is perfect while sunlight slants down through clouds and lights up her smile, and the way she sat on the arm of Vince’s chair and kissed his neck and he patted her side and hugged her close against him. For a little while, I thought they looked like a real couple, like they genuinely loved each other, and I forgot all about what I saw that night in private room three.
Two girls on their knees sucking his cock.
And they’re about to do it again.
I find Calvino at the bar. He’s sipping on another drink and texting someone, and I march right over to him, practically smoking from my ears I’m so damn mad.
“What the fuck, Calvino?”
He doesn’t look at me. “What’s wrong now?”
“Your brother is in the back room getting his dick sucked and you think everything’s okay?”
Slowly he puts his phone down. Dustin the bartender hurries to the far end of the bar like he wants to avoid this conversation as much as humanly possible, and I can’t blame him: the look Calvino gives me drips with acid, scorn, and anger.
“Since when did you give a fuck what my brother does?”
“Since I met Charlie and realized she’s a nice girl. Don’t they have a little boy together? Are you seriously letting this happen?”
He takes a deep breath and slowly lets it out. “There’s something you don’t understand about this situation.”
“No, you don’t understand, asshole. Your brother’s in there cheating on his wife and the mother of his child and you’re sitting here texting like nothing’s going on! What is the matter with you? Seriously, Calvino, you need to—”
He stands suddenly and grabs my arm hard enough for it to hurt. His fingers sink into the muscle and his lips pull back into a snarl and I’m reminded again that I’m not playing with normal men. These are monsters, barely tamed wolves.