“Yeah?” I called, my voice rougher than I meant it to be.
The door creaked open, and Roxanne stepped in like she’d been invited. Hips swayin’. Smile sharp and smug. The kind that always made my skin crawl.
“Hey, Chain,” she said, voice smooth as oil. “Can we talk?”
I stood slowly, already braced for trouble. “About what?” I asked flat. “Anything goin’ on out front goes through Gatsby.”
“The problem I have,” she said, takin’ a step closer, “can only be solved by you.”
Before I could even process the words, she reached for the hem of her shirt and yanked it up over her head, tossin’ it aside like a challenge. Her shorts followed, slidin’ down her legs to pool at her feet.
She stood there in her bra and panties, chin lifted, eyes bright with expectation.
My stomach turned hard.
“Get dressed,” I said cold. “And get the fuck outta my office.”
She laughed under her breath, fingers already movin’ behind her back. “C’mon, Chain. You didn’t mind before.”
The bra hit the floor.
Something hot and violent surged up my spine. I grabbed her arm, hard enough that I knew it’d leave a mark, ready to haul her straight out—
And then her other arm snapped around my neck, draggin’ me forward into the heat of her body.
The door opened.
Time didn’t just slow.
It stopped.
“Chain…”
Lark’s voice cracked the air like glass shatterin’.
I turned.
Just in time to see it land.
Her face went blank. Not angry. Not loud. Just empty. Like somethin’ shut off behind her eyes so fast it left nothing behind.
That look hit harder than any punch I’d ever taken.
“Lark—” I shoved Roxanne away with more force than I meant to. She hit the floor with a grunt, but I didn’t even glance her way. “Lark, wait—”
But she was already movin’.
Already gone.
The door closed behind her, the sound echoing too loud in the small space.
I stood there with my fists clenched at my sides, blood roaring in my ears, heart slamming like it was tryin’ to break free. Roxanne sat on the floor, propped back on her palms, bare chest rising and falling with laughter she didn’t even try to hide.
“You’re fired,” I said through my teeth. “Get the hell outta my bar before I forget you’re a woman.”
She scoffed. “You can’t fire me. I didn’t do anythin’ we haven’t done before. Hell, half the women in this place—”
I stepped toward her slow, deliberate, every muscle wound tight.
