I raise an inquisitive eyebrow, waiting for her to elaborate.
"The stalls are bigger than the bathroom in my apartment."
She brings a laugh right out of me. "New York isn't a cheap city to live in," I say.
"Tell me about it," she mutters under her breath.
"Roommates?" I ask. I can't imagine she's got her own place, although I hope she does because if there's any chance of me ever taking her home, I'd hate to run into anyone else who lives with her.
"Just me." Savannah shakes her head. "I used to live above a bar, making sleeping difficult until after two in the morning."
"And that's why you chose to dance?" I doubt that's the reason. She doesn’t strike me as a girl who goes to bed early, but I could be wrong.
"No." She smiles, and her hand goes up to her hair, twirling the wayward strand again. "I don't have the money to attend bartending school, and I've tried waiting tables. I am clumsy, and the tips are terrible when you're dropping food and drinks on everyone's lap."
I cover my mouth with my hand to keep the laugh within my belly from seeping out. "Sorry," I apologize because I'm wearing the biggest grin, and she groans in agony. "I'm glad Nikita didn't convince me to hire you as a waitress."
"Nikita?"
"He's the manager of Club Sage. You met him during your interview," I say, reminding her of our little interruption.
"Right." She nods and pauses as she remembers him. "I didn't see him tonight at the club."
"He had plans tonight, but generally, he works the evening shift. I always work until close." Now that Nikita is a family man, he has less desire to work until two in the morning. I don't blame him. Lucy is quite adorable. Unsurprisingly, he'd want to crawl into bed with her before the sun rises.
"That's good to know." Savannah quirks a grin. "Listen, I hope I didn't come off during the interview as a little too forward, dancing on your desk and all that." She laughs and covers her face with her hand. She's embarrassed about the situation.
"You did great. It made me hire you on the spot," I say. Just thinking about her moves, her body, and how she stared at me, makes my pulse pound and stirs me up inside.
I reach for my glass of water, my mouth parched. The girl makes me hot, even when she's not trying to turn me on.
She's locked onto my gaze. "Okay, good. I don't normally dance on desks during interviews."
I choke on my water and cough, reaching for my napkin. "I hope not, especially if you're interviewing as a waitress. Do you plan on getting a second job?" I hate to think she might need to work somewhere else than the club.
Savannah smiles and closes her mouth, tight-lipped. She shakes her head. "I made more tonight than I've made in quite a while. As long as the girls don't kill me for stealing some of their regulars, I think I'm good."
"I can talk with Bailey and the other girls," I say. If anyone is giving her a hard time, it's Bailey. The girl has a mouth on her, but I doubt she'd throw a punch in an actual fight.
"Please don't do that. I don't want to alienate any of the girls. I want them to see that I'm not a threat, and having the boss show special treatment isn't going to help me."
She's right. I exhale a breath and nod. "Fair enough."
The waitress brings over fresh rolls and several dishes.
"Everything smells wonderful," she says.
"It tastes even better."
* * *
After a very late dinner, if you can even call it that, I handle the bill and escort Savannah to my vehicle. "What's your address?"
"You can drop me off at the train station," she says.
"No, I'm driving you home." I won't let her walk alone at four in the morning, wandering the streets. It's dangerous, especially for a pretty girl.
"You don't have to—"
"Address." I'm firm and curt, awaiting her answer.
She gives me the address of her place, and I tap the screen on my phone, inputting the information into GPS. I know the city rather well, but it's best to ensure I don't miss the building.
"Thanks." She slinks beside me, fastens her seatbelt, and glances out the window. I'd expect her to be tired, but she's as wide awake as I am.
The drive is quiet. I half-wonder if we've run out of conversation, and then she interrupts the silence.
"You're the first boss I've ever had who was nice to me," Savannah says. Her voice is barely above a whisper, but she intends for me to hear her.
I glance at her as I pull up near her apartment and parallel park outside. "Now, don't go telling the other girls I'm a nice guy. That'll ruin my reputation," I joke.
She smiles and unfastens her seatbelt as I put the vehicle into park. "Do you want to come in for a nightcap?"
I doubt she's asking about drinks, but this line, once it's crossed, I can't walk away and pretend it didn't happen.
It's a bad idea. The absolute worst, sleeping with one of the dancers. But she's only invited me in for a drink. She hasn't asked me to her bedroom or to undress.
I shut off the engine and climb out. At the very least, I should ensure that she gets into her apartment without issue. It's late. A few men are wandering the streets, although I haven't seen any in front of her door. Even so, anyone could be in the hallways waiting to attack a pretty young girl like Savannah.
I need to walk her to her door.
I don't answer her question, but I follow her inside the building, up the stairs to the fifth floor. It's a good thing that I'm in shape, or I'd be winded. Savannah is light on her feet, but I can hear her breathing catch up to her on the last flight of stairs.
"Quite a workout, right?" she asks, keeping her voice down, but it echoes in the stairwell. She opens the door to the fifth floor, and I follow, glancing down the long, dark hallway, making sure no one is loitering.
Savannah retrieves her house key from the clutch in her hand and fiddles with it before sliding it into the lock.
I stand outside her doorway for a second longer than necessary.