There was no way in hell I was going back to not having sex. I wasn’t going to give up Cassidy.
Give me Cassidy or give me death.
Truth be told, my heart wasn’t in anything remotely related to my job. I had little to no desire to be in the place much less a desire to take another client. What I wanted was Cassidy. But if I were to put myself around her without taking her as a client, and one of Charlotte’s narks caught us… it would put Cassidy in danger.
I couldn’t let that happen.
And seeing as how we didn’t typically take clients twice, being with her again was going to be tricky.
Ghalen, the bouncer, stood at the door as I approached the entrance of the club. He was a dark, black man who stood about my height and was covered in thick muscle. To anyone who didn’t know him, he was intimidating as hell. To those of us who knew him? He was as gentle as could be.
As I drew closer, he stared at me in disbelief and then shook his head. “Not you too.”
I let out a dramatized sigh and held my hands out to the side. “Sorry to disappoint.”
He chuckled. “You must have a death wish.”
“Perhaps. But won’t it be fun figuring that out?” I asked.
He shook his head. “Good luck man. She’s been on a tirade all day long.”
“I appreciate the heads up,” I said.
“Not sure how much of a warning it is, but you’re welcome,” he said.
We clasped hands in a brotherly handshake, pulling in for a hug and pat on the back before releasing and I stepped inside. Instantly, I was assaulted by the smell of pheromones and perfume and body odor.
I frowned in disgust as I shoved my hands into my tight, fake leather pants and weaved my way through the crowd of half-naked men and women, who were drunk on the euphoria of the drinks and atmosphere, to the back of the club where the booths and tables sat. The second I took a seat in a darkened booth, as far away from the women as possible, one of them showed up, sliding along the leather seat. She was tall and thin. Plain as far as features went, but not ugly.
The point was this woman was nothing like Cassidy.
I frowned as she leaned in closer to me, tracing her fingers along my bare chest and filling my nose with her overly sweet perfume. Vanilla.
I had no idea what possessed woman to smell like desert like it appealed to most men.
I sneezed out the offending aroma and pushed her away. “No.”
She wasn’t Cassidy. And it was Cassidy or bust. I wasn’t above a hunger strike if it came down to it.
The woman’s face held a wounded expression and after blinking at me a couple of times, she slowly slipped off into the smoke-filled club. She deserved better than this shithole or any of the assholes here, to begin with. Charlotte was an excellent salesman. Word of mouth also helped.
Though the music drowned out nearly all other sounds, I could have sworn, I heard the woman sniff.
Poor thing.
I didn’t want to hurt her feelings, but as I had already stated, I wasn’t in the mood for work, especially taking clients. I leaned into the seat and let my head rest against the top of the booth. I was going to have to come up with a better excuse than not wanting to work as a reason to turn down clients.
The boss wouldn’t like it.
Frankly, the boss could go screw herself.
I realized how much of a problem turning down clients was, and I would figure it out soon enough. I was nothing if not resourceful. But minutes passed with little resolution to my problem, and I had run out of time.
Charlotte approached the booth. “What the hell is wrong with you, Dallas? Don’t tell me some girl got under your skin.”
I rolled my eyes and turned my gaze toward her. “Hello to you too, boss.”
“Since when do you turn down clients?” she asked, crossing her arms over her chest. Her deep brown eyes homed in on mine as though she could tell if I was lying simply by looking into them. Never mind the fact we stood in a darkened bar with barely enough light to see the color of them.