Chloe had once told me the symbol was the universal distress sign to signal security about something getting out of hand. Not that I’d have to worry about that with Liam, but it was comforting to know the club had such precautions.
“Okay. I’ll go.” I was way too curious not to.
Jose was already giving me a wink. I weaved my way through the crowd and went up the stairs. The second floor consisted of private VIP booths which overlooked the dance club, but the third floor was closed off to club members unless you were on a separate list. Security was obvious, but when I approached the big man standing there, he simply unfastened the velvet rope without a word. Upon finding room number four down the funky hallway with rainbow lights, I turned the knob and opened the door.
I walked inside, eying the pole and small stage in the center of the room.
Liam had opted not to sit on one of the two leather couches, but was instead standing with his back to me, looking out the large picture window toward the club floor.
“Hi. You wanted to see me?”
He turned with the sound of my voice and walked closer to me. “I hope this is all right. I wanted a quiet place where we could talk for a few moments.”
With his gaze on me, I wrapped my arms around my exposed midriff. “What do you want to talk about?”
“I have an offer for you.”
“What kind of offer?” Because I could think of plenty I’d like him to make me. Not one of them appropriate to our work relationship, but all of them getting my hopes up. Perhaps this connection I’d imagined wasn’t one-sided.
“I’d like for you to work for me on the weekends to earn overtime instead of here at the club.”
I could only stare at him, trying to figure out his motive. Was this an excuse to spend more time with me, or did he truly need someone on the weekends? I had no doubt he probably had the work, but why now? “Why?”
He shifted his feet. “Because you need the money for your grandmother’s care, or for your clothes, or whatever, and I have plenty of work to do on the weekends.”
My temper snapped. “For my clothes?”
He sighed. “It’s not my business, but clearly you’re funding your designer wardrobe in addition to supplementing your grandmother’s care.”
“You’re right. It’s not your business.” Although I may have been tempted to accept his offer, he had to go and piss me off. But even without his insult, spending any more time with him was a bad idea all the way around. “I appreciate the offer, but no.”
His confusion was obvious. “Why not?”
“Because I don’t want to. I prefer to continue working here.”
“You’re angry.”
“Yes. I am.”
“Why?”
He truly seemed clueless. Time to enlighten him. “Because you’re making assumptions. My designer clothes are used. My Tory Burch flats were forty dollars. Most of my outfits, under a hundred. It took me an entire year to get a wardrobe fit for the law firm by socking away a hundred dollars a month.”
He winced. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have commented, let alone judged.”
Although his apology seemed to be sincere, it didn’t matter. I couldn’t work for him any more than I already was. “I need to get back downstairs.” I turned until his next words stopped me.
“Is it because of our kiss?”
“You mean kisses, don’t you? The ones you seem to think I’ll report to someone?” I countered.
He ran a hand through his short hair. “I didn’t mean to make more assumptions. I just have trust issues.”
“Why?” I wondered if I was missing something before, but now I knew I was.
“I don’t have time to get into it now.”
I checked the clock on the wall. “I have nine more minutes.”
He moved closer to me until he was a breath away. I wondered for a moment if he’d choose not to tell me. To my surprise, he did. “As I’ve gotten further into my career, I see it all around me. People losing respect, money, their jobs because of mistakes they make. Because of the wrong people they trusted.”
“What happened between us was consensual. You can trust I won’t ever tell anyone.”
“It still shouldn’t happen again.”
At least he sounded conflicted but still obviously not wanting to take the leap. I fought my disappointment. “Less likely to happen if I don’t work with you on the weekends, don’t you think?”
He sighed. “I don’t like you being here. Do you have any idea what happens on this floor?”
“I’ve heard rumors, but this is my first time up here.”
He instantly looked relieved.
His expression made me ask my next question. “How do you know what happens up here?”
“The manager told me.”
“Oh.” Made sense. “Is the only reason you came here tonight because you wanted to offer me more work?”
“If I tell you no, would you think I was a stalker?”
I fought a grin. “No. Nor would I think it was stalking if you wanted to wait for me until I was done with my shift.” There. I’d put it out there.
He sucked in a breath, his gaze burning into mine. “I don’t know if it would be a good idea.”
Hell, neither did I. But the connection was something I couldn’t deny. But my pride wouldn’t let me push it any further than he was willing to go. “Let me know if you figure it out. My time is up.”
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Liam
Watching Kendall walk out of the room solidified one thing. I wanted her like I’d never wanted another woman. Although the hurdle about romance in the office might end up getting resolved in a few months with her leaving the firm, ultimately she was a relationship girl. She wanted a husband and children. She’d said as much to my sister. But I didn’t see a family in my future. Not at all.
As I was exiting the room, contemplating whether to stay until Kendall was off, one of the large security men came up to me. “Mr. Liam Davenport?”
“Yes.”
“Mr. Chance Maxwell asked me to escort you to his private suite once you were done.”
I hadn’t anticipated Chance being in town, let alone at this club tonight. He spent a lot of time traveling. “Of course,” I replied and followed the man down the hall.
I’d expected to be escorted into a suite similar to the one I’d just left. With Chance on a couch, a woman on each side waiting to do his bidding, and a stripper pole being utilized in the center. At least that had been his scene four years ago when I’d last met him at one of his establishments.
But this time I was ushered into an office on the third floor. A huge, wall-sized window looked down into the club. He was seated behind his desk and rose with my entrance.
“Hello, Chance. It’s been a while.” I crossed over, meeting him halfway and taking his extended hand in a firm handshake.
“It has, my friend. Which is why upon hearing you were making a night of it at my club, I had to drop by.” He hadn’t changed a bit. Perfectly groomed, dressed in expensive clothing, and with an expression some might call aloof but which I knew was always calculating. He was definitely a shrewd businessman.
Although I was on friendly terms with Chance, I also knew I had to be careful not to share too much. The man was reputed to enjoy games. The last thing I wanted was to have Kendall become part of one.
“Yes, well. It’s been a while since I’ve been out.”
He laughed. “Cut the shit, Liam. You’re not one for the nightclub scene, and my manager already told me you paid five hundred dollars tonight for ten minutes with one of my bartenders. I’m the one who cleared it, by the way, as that sort of thing goes against protocol.” He walked over to the window, looking down to where I could see Kendall back working behind the bar.
“The pretty brunette, right?”
I didn’t bother to lie. “Yes.”
He turned to me, thoughtful. “Your girl?”
“I might
be working on that part.” Perhaps if I was frank about my interest, he’d ensure she had extra protection from the male customers.
He grinned. “Must be a change for you. You don’t seem like the type to have to work too hard for a woman’s attention.”
“She’s different.” In so many ways. And because we were being honest, I said my next words carefully. “Although I’m not happy about her spending her weekends moonlighting at a club, it did give me some reassurance to find out it was one of yours.”
He regarded me for a moment before giving me a nod. “Appreciated. And I can assure you this club is above board. Regardless, I take the treatment of my staff very seriously.”
My gaze didn’t leave his. This was a man in power. But he wasn’t the only one. It needed to be crystal clear I would accept nothing less than his word on her safety. “Happy to hear it.”
“Since you’re here, I do have some business to discuss with you if you have a couple minutes.”
He indicated a chair next to the window. I was grateful for the view of Kendall while we were talking. “Of course. Always happy to discuss business with you.”
“This is of a delicate nature.” He grabbed a decanter of amber liquid. “Still a bourbon man?”
“Yes, I am. And of course, anything you say is in confidence.”
He poured four fingers and handed me a glass before pouring his own.
Taking a sip, I realized it was Blanton’s, my favorite.
I’d met Chance over ten years ago when I’d been an associate. I’d worked with him on his first business acquisitions—not the sort of thing I did very much anymore since I was now mainly focused on litigation. Even a decade ago, it had been clear he didn’t trust many. And since it sometimes paid to have friends in high places, I didn’t mind being trusted. He understood I had a limit: our conversations had to be on the right side of the law. He undoubtedly dabbled in some questionable activities, but thankfully he kept that part of his business for his personal attorney.
“I need a private investigator.”
I quirked my brow. This was something he could probably get any number of ways.
As if he anticipated my question, he said, “It regards something of a personal nature, which is why I want to go outside of my inner circle. Has to do with my brother.”
“Which one?” He was the oldest of four—or was it five? I couldn’t keep track as there were some halves and steps in there. His father had been married a few times.
“My younger brother Reed. The one who’s working for a security firm in Dubai. It’s his fiancée I need investigated.”
“Gold digger?”
He sighed. “Worse. Anyhow, if you have anyone who can be discreet, I’ll pay expenses.”
“I have a guy in LA. He’s willing to travel.” We’d used him on a number of cases. He was a top-notch security guy. Former Special Forces. He might be overkill for what Chance wanted, but I knew the nightclub owner would expect the best.
“If you could help me arrange it, I’d appreciate it. I’ll send everything to your personal email?”
In other words, this was off the law firm books. “Yes. I’ll set it up.”
“Good. You want my manager to cover for your girl so you get some more time?”
It was tempting, although what else would I say? She’d left the ball in my court. “No. It would only piss her off. She takes her job seriously.”
“I hear she’s one of my most reliable. I assume you’re waiting until she gets off?”
He was giving me the excuse I’d been searching for to stay until Kendall was off work. “Yes.”
“Good. The staff cars are parked in a garage underground on the P3 level. I’ll let Mikey, the bodyguard who escorts them out, know to clear you. Like I said, we take security very seriously.”
Now all I had to wonder was what would happen when she saw me by her car.
Chapter Thirty
Kendall
It continued to be a busy night after I returned to the bar. The only difference from before my trip upstairs was that now I kept searching the room for Liam.
Damn. He’d made me miss him already. Which made no sense. Before last week, I’d have done just about anything to get him off my mind. How the hell had he gone from being the bane of my existence to meaning something to me—in merely a week?
I understood why he was hesitant to start something with someone he worked with. It made sense, considering the firm was his life and he took seriously both the position he held and the one to which he aspired. As for me, I truly did plan to quit the firm within the year. I might not know exactly what I wanted to do with my life, but I did know the firm wasn’t my end game.
Thankfully, Jose didn’t pry once I returned. Not that we had the time to chat. But even so, I was so confused about Liam’s behavior in showing up here tonight—but then not wanting to pursue anything—that I wouldn’t have wanted to talk about it.
Two thirty finally rolled around, allowing me to take the deep breath I took at the end of every shift. I was exhausted. We worked quickly to clean up the bar and ensure we could get out on time.
“You’re done, my love. Go home.” Jose had already turned over the registers and was writing down what we needed to restock for tomorrow.
“You sure? I can do some mixers.”
“Nah. Plenty of time. Go. Get some sleep. See you tomorrow night.”
“See you then.”
Mikey met me at the elevator as he always did with the girls. Although the parking garage was secure, you could never be too careful. We waited on a couple others before he pressed the down button. Although I typically took the bus to the law firm during the week, I drove to the club on Fridays and Saturdays, so I wouldn’t have to deal with public transportation at this hour.
Coming off the elevator, I walked toward my Honda Civic, only to stop dead in my tracks.
Liam was leaned against it.
Mikey was by my side. “Mr. Maxwell said he was cleared, but you say the word, and I can unclear him right now.”
Mikey was a good few inches taller than my boss and could probably use me as a free weight. He was intimidating as shit, so I had no doubt he would do as he said. “No. No. He’s good.”
I walked up to Liam, watching him push off my car while distractedly staring over my shoulder, probably at the mountain of the man behind me.
“Your bodyguard doesn’t look happy to see me here.”
“He’s not generally happy about much. I’m surprised you stayed.” I wasn’t above wishing he’d ask me to come home with him, but what the hell had changed since we’d talked four hours ago?
“Do you, um, think we can talk some more?”
Considering how dead on my feet I was, talking might be the only thing I was capable of at the moment. “Here?”
“No. I could come to your place, or you to mine? Or we could find an all-night diner. Or hell, this can wait until tomorrow when you’re not exhausted.”
I knew for a fact if we waited until tomorrow, one or both of us would chicken out. But there was no way I’d have him over to my tiny studio apartment where my suitcase had exploded, strewing my clothes all about. And a diner wouldn’t afford us privacy. “How about I go to your place?”
“Do you want to leave your car here and drive in mine?”
My heart kicked into overdrive. “How about I follow you? I’ll need my car in the morning.” I didn’t want to have to come back to downtown LA to get my ride.
“Okay. I’m in the dark blue Tesla. I’ll wait outside the garage for you.”
I followed him down the 110 freeway south and onto the exit leading toward the beaches. I’d known he lived in Manhattan Beach, one of the wealthier neighborhoods, but nothing could’ve prepared me for his beautiful house. As I crossed this last personal line, reality started to set in.
He opened his garage, but I noticed he didn’t pull in. He opened his driver’s side door and got out to come around to my now open window
. “Go ahead and park in the garage. I’ll go in and meet you in there in a minute.”
“Okay.” I wasn’t sure if he was hiding my car, or if he was simply being a gentleman with the offer to have it parked inside, but at this point, I wasn’t sure I cared. I was beat.
Once I pulled into the garage, I got out of my car and shut the door. I walked around toward the door, using my cell phone to light the way.
Before I reached it, he opened it from the inside. “Come on in.”
Shit. He looked awkward as hell to have me here. And my butterflies were about to have a mutiny. Especially since the first thing I usually did after a shift was to shower. I was still all sweaty from working all night. Not exactly sexy.
“Do you want a tour?”
“Sure.” Not only was I curious about his house, but I also hoped this would ease my sudden nerves. But it didn’t. Because after touring the gorgeous home with gleaming hardwood floors, a modern kitchen, and three spacious bedrooms—one of which was obviously the master—I’d never been so wired. The house clearly showed how we came from two different worlds. I was way out of my league with a man of his wealth. It now made sense to me when he’d said he had a lot to lose by trusting the wrong person.
“What are you thinking?” he asked, as we ended up back in the kitchen. He poured a glass of water and handed it to me.
“You have a beautiful home. What did you do the whole time you waited? Did you stay upstairs?” Color me curious as to if he was partaking in the club activities offered.
“No. I did some work from the car.”
My relief was immediate.
He fidgeted with straightening his dishcloths before turning toward me. “Sorry this is awkward.”
It really was. “Are you having second thoughts?”
He expelled a breath. “Yes and no, but I promise it’s nothing personal toward you. I want you here. I just—”
“—have a hard time trusting?” I finished for him.
Miss Understanding (The Miss Series Book 1) Page 15
