“Why?” I ask with a cock of my head.
“Andre doesn’t stick his nose in my business. That’s all you need to know. You’ll be dealing with me, and me alone.”
Okay, now my interest is piqued. “He just seemed –”
“I don’t care what he seemed like to you. You’ll stay away from him.”
There’s more to unbury there, but I can tell by the anger in his tone that he doesn’t want me to press further, and truth be told, I don’t want to press my luck and make it obvious that I’m here to bring everything down like a house of cards.
“Okay, fine,” I answer, holding my hands up in surrender. “No Andre. Do I ignore his existence or . . .”
“How much more plain do I need to make it?” His tone is so growly, and his rage is starting to perfume the car. “I don’t want to see you within twenty feet of him. Not even if you don’t get the job.”
I wet my bottom lip. “Why? Will he try to offer me one?”
His jaw flexes once. “Andre won’t offer you anything. He takes what he wants, and trust me when I tell you, don’t give him any reason to.”
“And you don’t?”
He huffs a slow sigh. “End of discussion.”
Silence falls over the car once more as both of us mull over the conversation, what’s said and left unsaid. It does nothing for my curiosity, and again, I wonder what exactly Andre does in the porn business and why Nix is so against him. And chiefly, why would he care anyway? He’s got enough girls. I’m just a tiny number on that scale. Why would he care?
It’s food for thought at a later time because the questions flee as soon as he murmurs, “You’reher.”
Confusion twists my features. “What?”
He shakes his head a little. “You’re her. I don’t know who yet, but I know you from somewhere.” He looks over at me as he pulls up to the destination, an apartment complex that’s a few blocks from mine. “You may hide who you really are now, but trust me when I say that I will either find out who you really are, or I’ll remember.”
I try like hell to keep my breathing under control. I don’t know if that’s a threat, but it sure as hell sounded like one. “I don’t even know who I am,” I answer truthfully because, when caught in a lie, you always sprinkle some truth.
He studies my face, travels the slopes and plains across my features, and finally, he stops on my lips. I don’t give him any reason to not believe me, so I hold still and let him take me in, even though I don’t entirely know what to make of it. “You better figure it out, become real comfortable with yourself, because you’re about to figure out exactly what you’re made of.”
I swallow thickly, and his eyes zoom to my throat before they return to mine. “Does that mean I got the job?”
His nostrils flare a little, but other than that, it’s the only expression on his carefully blank face. “We’ll see how well your video goes over.”
“To your boss?”
He shakes his head slowly. “It’ll be uploaded tonight to the website. If your video gets rated well enough, you’ll be hearing from me.”
The idea of hundreds, if not thousands, viewing me cum makes my heart beat faster. I try not to make it obvious that I can hear it pounding in my ears. Instead, I scowl. “How? You broke my phone.”
He blinks at me, slow and measured, and when he says nothing else, he reaches across me and opens my door. I keep my eyes on him, and he reaches once more and digs out of a phone from the tiny compartment between us. Passing it to me, he says firmly, “End of discussion.”
I chuff inside my head, and a dribble of annoyance seeps out of my pores. Climbing out of the car, I shut the door and whirl toward him. He spares me one last, long glance through the window before he pulls out onto the road. I’m not even part of the business yet, and already, I’m being handled.
Once the car is gone, I start making my way toward my apartment building. I bring the phone up to view and swipe it open. Somehow, there’s no password to gain access, and I wonder how in the hell he did that.
Deciding it doesn’t really matter, I open the contacts and find only one name in it: Nix.
Chapter Ten
Charlotte Mitchell
Iwrap my towel tighter around me and tuck the ear just under my armpit. This bathroom is far less disgusting than it was when I moved in here, but it could seriously use an upgrade. Everything is a faded shade of yellow, and I’m seriously wondering if the peeling wallpaper will just give up on life and slither off the walls onto the chipped tiles.
I stand before the tiny mirror and grab my brush from the only drawer on the small vanity. The drawer tries to stick, but with a yank, it opens and almost flies out.
