A man walks down just before we get there, and when he sees us walking side by side, it’s like I don’t even exist.
An infuriatingly perfect smile grows on his stupidly handsome face—carved jaw, straight nose, perfectly sized dark-brown eyebrows, and only about three wrinkles that make him look even better. He stares right at Eian and I can practically hear him start to salivate.
The closer we get, the less flaws I find, and now I guess we’re both in a foul mood.
“Always nice to see you in the morning, Boss,” the freaking David come to life says, with a smirk that speaks for itself.
So they’ve fucked.
Eian has fucked this perfect specimen of a man who’s about a foot taller than me and at least a hundred pounds of pure muscle heavier.
That’s just fucking fantastic.
“Here to see Cillian,” Eian says in that same dark tone, and the bastard actually smiles wider.
Sure, the statement is borderline dismissive, but that doesn’t seem to bother the gorgeous asshole at all. Trailing his gaze down Eian’s body he bites down on his bottom lip before sighing like a stupid fucking idiot who has no brain cells and is stupid.
“Let me know if you wanna book an hour soon, Boss.”
“I won’t,” Eian says simply. “Now if you’ll excuse us.”
I’ve been keeping pace with Eian, but it’s only when he puts his hand on my lower back and gently pushes me forward that the asshole looks at me. I can guess what he must see on my face—even if I hate myself just a tiny bit for it—because he drops the coy act and gets out of our fucking way.
Good.
The worst part is, I can’t even be mad at Eian because he acted perfectly, and I can’t begrudge him having a past... We all have a past. Still, I’m not asking him to go see a certain play on Broadway so we can come face-to-face with my piece of shit ex. He could’ve warned me.
It dawns on me then... maybe that’s why he was so unsettled on our way over here? Was he nervous about us running into that Adonis?
Eian opens the door at the end of the hallway with enough force to snap me out of it, and we step into a reasonably sized office. There’s two locked cabinets and a wide desk with a blond man sitting behind it.
I walk through and Eian closes the door quickly behind me.
“Boss.” The man, who I assume is Cillian, quickly stands up. “I didn’t know you were stopping by today.” He doesn’t seem mad about that, more concerned, and he seems to be around my age, maybe early forties.
“I hadn’t planned on it. Sit.” Eian nods almost distractedly at Cillian, then pushes me gently into one of the two chairs in front of the desk and takes the other one for himself. “Call Sara in, would you?”
Without question, Cillian picks up the receiver and talks after the press of a button. “The boss is here.” Whoever Sara is must know the drill, because the call ends quickly after, and less than a minute later the door opens and a gorgeous woman walks in. Long black hair, perfect face, wearing a short blue dress that shows off her even longer and more perfect legs.
I don’t know why, but what surprises me the most is that she’s barefoot, and how fondly she smiles at Eian and Cillian.
“Colby, this is Sara and Cillian, they take care of the brothel. This is Colby, he’s helping me deal with some scum.”
I get nods and brief smiles as a greeting, and try to reciprocate, but I’m once more surprised when Cillian stands and offers Sara his big chair, then gets a foldable chair from between the cabinets and places it next to her.
“We’re looking for someone who started working here, or asked for a job here.” Eian takes the receipt out of his pocket and puts it on the desk in front of them. “On this date.”
Cillian gets up quickly after looking at the date and grabs a key out of his pants, opens the second drawer of the left cabinet, and starts sorting through files.
He passes Sara two files and grabs two more before sitting back down. They both look through the papers, discarding them until Sara looks up.
“Here. Luisa, she came in looking for a job on that exact day.”
She passes the file to Eian, and I lean in next to him to read it.
“Call her in,” Eian murmurs while we both read. Age, name, height, weight, likes and dislikes... it’s a pretty standard list for a brothel, I guess, but it doesn’t tell us much. It could all technically be fake.
The next pages are all a log, I suppose, of clients, and she’s pretty popular, or maybe not. How the hell would I know? The clients all have numbers and letters as names, I guess to keep it all more anonymous?
