“Thank you for your kind offer, but I’m politely declining.” She smiles sweetly, but there’s the familiar twinkle in her eye that burns brighter when she’s defying me.
“Well, come and talk to me then. Show me how you earn these tips you keep banging on about.”
She shoots me a guarded look, like she can’t decide whether I’m playing. But she humors me. “Okay, usually, I’d ask them if they had a busy day.”
“How original,” I say dryly.
“What would you like me to do, sir?” The wordsir rolls off her tongue like silk as she bats her lashes, leaning on the bar with her chin resting in her hand.
Instantly, I’m hard. I’ve been on the edge all evening, my eyes eating up her every movement. But now there’s no mistaking the thick arousal fighting my zipper. I take a long sip of my whiskey to steady my pulse rate, but all I can think about is grabbing her ponytail and ramming my tongue between those hot red lips.
“Violet,” I warn, my voice low. “Are you intentionally being a cock tease?” Her eyes widen, like she wasn’t expecting me to gothere,but I see how her green eyes darken. The way they take a leisurely stroll down my body before lifting back to mine. Her lips part, the faintest intake of breath betraying her. The entire damn building could burn down, but nothing could drag my gaze away as her eyes hold mine. She swallows thickly, pulling back first, shaking off our moment. Flustered, she grabs her treasured notebook, flicking to an empty page.
“I’ll tell you what,” she trills nervously, “I’ll start a page for you. How’s that?” She sneaks another glance my way, but her gaze falters under the weight of mine—unyielding, offering her no escape, no place to hide. There’s a slight tremble in her hand as she brings the pen to paper. Oh, yes, she feelsit.This thing between us. The way it wraps around her, suffocating and electric. It terrifies her as much as it thrills me.
“So what do you like doing in your spare time?” she asks, tapping her pen on the page, her polite smile back in place.
“I like tofuck, Violet.”
This time, it’s her turn to choke, her jaw hanging open like she’s lost the power of speech.
She shakes her head, a perplexed smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “Erm, that’s a little bit too much information, Chase, but never mind.” She clears her throat, soldiering on. “What about hobbies?”
I smirk, raising an eyebrow, enjoying the flush creeping up her cheeks. Taking pity on her, I give her something to work with. “I like to fight. It’s how I keep fit. Mainly MMA.” She scribbles it down, bringing the pen back to her mouth as she chews the end. And now I’m jealous of a pen. Are there no limits to my lameness?
Enjoying finally having her undivided attention, I’m pissed when Lacey appears from behind to inform Violet her shift is over. The relief on Violet’s face is palpable as she slots the notebook away and gets ready to go.
“Sorry to leave you,” she says, already half-jogging away. “But that’s the end of my shift. I’m sure Lacey will be more than happy to serve you.”
Swallowing my disappointment that she’s leaving, I rise from the stool, following her to the end of the bar. “How are you getting home?”
“I take the Subway.”
“It’s late. I’ll take you.” The words trip from my mouth without thought. But there’s no way I’m letting her go on her own this late.
“No,” she says, her tone firm, scanning the surroundings like she’s worried someone may overhear. “I can’t be seen going home with a client. I’ll lose my job.” Before I argue, she yanks open the staff room door and disappears.
I call my driver, instructing him to wait outside the staff exit and make a quick detour to the manager, Sonny’s, office. He and I need to chat.
Sliding into the back seat of the limo, I wait for Violet to appear. It doesn’t take long before she steps outside. She’s changed into ripped jeans and a black jacket, her long hair flowing down her back. I wind down the tinted window, beckoning her over.
“Get in the car, Violet,” I demand, making it clear it’s not up for discussion.
She rolls her eyes at my bossy tone, striding down the sidewalk as my driver, Albert, crawls along next to her.
“Ugh, stop following me like some weirdo.” She tosses her hair over her shoulder, pulling her handbag tight on her shoulder.
“Albert,” I say, dragging my fingers through my hair. “Help me out here. Can you ask Violet to get in the car?” Albert meets my gaze in the rearview mirror, his eyes shining with amusement. “Of course, sir.” Albert has the air of a friendly grandpa. He looks too lovable to turn down.
Albert slides down his window, calling over to her with his impeccable manners. “Miss. Violet.” She pauses, the change of voice throwing her for a loop. “Miss Violet,” he repeats. “It’s very late, and I won’t be able to rest tonight until I’m certain you’re safely home.” Slowly, she swivels to face Albert, distrust still clouding her eyes. He shoots her his best Papa Smurf smile, and she crumbles instantly.
“Okay, I’m coming foryou,” she says, pointing at Albert.
“See,” I say to Albert, under my breath, “You’ve still got the moves, you old dog.” I flash Violet my best triumphant smile as she slides into the seat next to me, still grumbling about how many tips I lost her.
“Where too, miss?” Albert says, his finger poised on the GPS.
“It’s 45-20 Queens Boulevard, Sunnyside,” she says, poking her head through the gap between the front seats.
