I nod but don’t let him take it. He makes a grunting noise but doesn’t say anything. Instead he leads the way to his car. “Where do you live?”
I give him the name of my estate and watch as a weird look comes on his face. I would have said shock, yet it’s more than that; but for the life of me I can’t figure out what it is. He doesn’t say anything, just gets into the car. I feel really awkward, and I don’t know why. I haven’t done anything wrong. The only thing I did was walk away from him yesterday, and that was because he was too busy with his girlfriend. Not that I’m complaining as I got home without paying for a damn cab.
Silence, that’s all it’s been for the past thirty minutes. He’s not even put on music and the silence is making me on edge. “Why did you run off yesterday?” he finally asks, and I wonder why it’s taken him so long.
“I didn’t. We finished our conversation. There was nothing else to say, so I left.” It’s true, there was nothing left to say. I wasn’t getting a cab, and there was no way I was going to be bullied into it either.
“Don’t be obtuse, you knew we weren’t finished.”
Whoa, what the hell? “There’s no need for that tone,” I tell him, and his eyes slice to me. “I wasn’t staying around to be bullied into doing something. Besides you were busy.”
“Jealous?” He smirks, and I just want to hit him.
“Not in the slightest.” Why am I getting so wound up by him? I should have just kept my mouth shut
“Uh-huh.” He’s baiting me. I know he is, and I’m no longer falling for it. He pulls into my estate, and I instantly know why he had that look on his face, and his next question confirms it. “Did you know the boy who was stabbed?”
“It’s not that big of an estate. Everyone here knows him.” I’m proud of myself. I didn’t cry, and my voice didn’t break as it usually does when talking about Mickey and his death. I open the car door. “Thank you for the lift. It wasn’t necessary, but I appreciate it anyway.” I’m being rude, and this isn’t me, there’s something about Owen that really rubs me the wrong way. I rush out of the car, needing to get away from him.
Of course, he doesn’t leave it at that. “Katy, I’m sorry I never meant to upset you.”
I face him. “Upset me? You haven’t, but you make me so damn angry, and I have no idea why.”
He stalks towards me. “And you,” he growls, his breath warm against my skin. “I can’t stop thinking about you. Your eyes are full of sadness, yet you’re sassy as hell. I bet you’re a real wild cat, aren’t you?”
I lick my lips. My pulse races at how close he is to me. His gaze focuses in on my lips. I watch his eyes… so much lust and heat in them. “Katy…” he whispers as he leans in. Just for a second, I lean forward. Then a car horn sounds, and I pull back. I see the hurt slash through his eyes.
“I’ve got to go, thanks for the lift.” I try to walk past him, but he grabs my arm stopping me, I look at him, what does he want?
“You want this just as much as I do.” His jaw is set in a hard line. He’s angry because I pulled away.
“That may be so, but I’m not a homewrecker, Owen, and you have a girlfriend. I may have lost my mind for a split second but not again. I won’t do that, and shame on you for even trying.” I pull my arm away and walk off. I don’t look back at him, I can’t. I need to keep my distance from him. He’s dangerous to me. I know that I could easily fall for him. He’s a smooth talker, but I’m not an idiot. He’s got a girlfriend, and the fact he’s trying to kiss me while he has one just shows his true colours; he’s a man not to be trusted.
Chapter Ten
It’s been three weeks since Owen and I almost kissed. Since then I’ve seen him a handful of times, and each time I’ve kept my word and kept my distance, but that doesn’t mean I don’t see the longing looks he gives me, or the heat-filled gaze I feel when I’m on the pole. The worst thing about it is whenever I see him, my stomach gets butterflies, my pulse races. I want him, but I can’t have him. He’s still with Layla, and I respect that, so I’m keeping my distance.
Tonight, I’m going to Saffron’s hen party, I couldn’t believe she invited me. I was so shocked. She’s actually one of the nicest people I’ve ever met, so softly spoken and genuine. The past three weeks, both her and Jess have gone all out in teaching me everything they know, not just with bar work but with the pole too. Saffron used to be a pole dancer until she started going out with Damien, and since then she’s been helping behind the scenes with paperwork and behind the bar. She told me she was sad to be leaving, but it was time. With both Jess and Cherry now gone, her friends have left and she needs to move on.
As Jess and Saff are getting ready for tonight, I’m working the bar until Bailey and Tyra come in. Bailey’s meant to have today off, but with both Saff and I not working, Bailey said she’d come in and work the bar. She’s happy to do it as it means more money. It’s weird how close we’ve all become in the last month. I’ve met both Bailey and Tyra outside of work for coffee and shopping. We always get new underwear. It’s expensive, but with the money I’m making from bartending, the tips are more than paying for them.
I hear the door to the club opening and I’m expecting to see either Tyra or Bailey. It’s six o’clock, and already the club has about twenty members here. They’ve been here since we opened an hour ago. I was shocked, as when the doors opened there was nobody there and then all of a sudden it was like an influx of people coming in. I groan when I see that it’s Owen, and of course because it’s not busy, he makes a beeline for me. Shit, there’s no way I can avoid him.
“Katy.” His eyes are twinkling. What the hell is he up to?
“Owen.” I say with a nod and begin to clean the bar top.
“Fuck,” he growls, and my eyes pop up, and I notice that he’s looking at my top or more importantly my cleavage.
“My eyes are up here.” I point to my face, and the fucker just smiles at me, looking all sweet and innocent. “Can I help you?”
His mouth twitches. “Nah babe, not yet. Soon though,” he tells me cryptically, winking at me as he heads into the back towards Damien’s office. Great, now I’m going to be wondering what the hell he meant by that.
“He’s mine,” I hear, and I inwardly groan when I see Layla standing in the doorway, the fakest smile I’ve ever seen gracing her lips.
“Okay,” I say. I never said any differently.
“Don’t okay me,” she snaps, and my eyes widen at her tone. “Owen is mine. I’ve heard about you. The newest thing to hit this club. You’ll never be as good as me, I was the best and no doubt still am. You just wait until I’m back, that’ll show you.”
“What the actual fuck? Excuse you, you don’t know me. How dare you?” My back is up, who the hell does she think she is? Who the hell talks like that anyway?
“How dare I? I watched you flirting with my boyfriend, how dare you?” she fires back, her eyes narrowed. She looks ready for a fight.
“I didn’t flirt with your boyfriend. We were talking for like a minute. There’s something wrong with you.” Bunny boiler comes to mind.
“I saw you both,” she says snottily. “You’re not allowed to talk to him, he’s mine, get your own boyfriend and stop trying to steal other people’s.”
Oh my God, she’s crazy. “I’m not trying to steal anyone.” The bloody cheek of her.
She laughs at me. “You’re right.” She looks me up and down as though I’m filth. “You couldn’t get anyone. You’re disgusting. I bet you’ve never had a boyfriend before, have you? Frigid bitch,” she spits out, her eyes narrowed and full of hate.
“Excuse you?” I’m raging right now.
“You heard me, look at you. You don’t even have a backbone.” She shakes her head in disgust.
“Listen here, bitch,” I fire back and watch as her eyes widen. “You don’t know me, I do have a backbone. You’re all mouth with no bite. You think you can come in here with your fake hair, fake tits, fake smile and tr
eat people like shit? Treat me like shit? Bitch, you have another thing coming. You’re old enough to be my mum, act your bloody age.”
She stamps her foot with indignation. “I’m not old enough to be your mum.” That’s all she got from what I said?
I laugh, vain cow. “You’re what forty? Forty-two? You’re old enough to be my mum, although my mum is only thirty-nine.” I bite my lip to keep my laughter from spilling out. Her face is priceless, her mouth wide open, eyes huge, she looks in shock.
I hear laughter coming from the side of the bar and my eyes turn there to see Damien and Owen standing there. Damien is holding on to the bar while he laughs; he’s got tears in his eyes from laughing so hard. Owen on the other hand is looking pissed off, and I wonder if I’m the one he’s pissed off at for going off at his girlfriend?
“Katy,” Damien says while trying to regain his composure. “That is the best thing I’ve seen in a long time, no wonder Saff and Jess love you so much.”
“Ugh, you’re friends with those bitches? Fuck, no wonder this place has gone downhill, you’ve got those heifers dancing for you.”
My mouth opens in shock at Layla’s words, what the hell? She’s called Saff and Jess heifers?
“Layla, what the hell are you doing here?” Owen says through gritted teeth as he walks up to her. As soon as he’s in touching distance she’s all over him like a rash. Her hands going to his face, pulling him down for a kiss; her mouth open so wide it looks as though she’s about to eat him.
I turn my head not wanting to witness them. Instead, I go back to wiping down the bar, ready for whenever Bailey comes in. Damien walks back towards his office. I’m grateful that no one has said anything to me about what’s just happened, I have never had someone be so vile to me. I come across meek, but I’m far from it. Unlike Layla, my bite is worse than my bark.
I walk around the club and collect the empty glasses and take orders for their next drinks when I hear the door open. My gaze is instantly drawn in that direction. Owen’s back, his expression one of rage, his whole-body vibrating with anger. Thankfully, he walks towards Damien’s office. I place the empties on the bar and start getting the drinks ready. It doesn’t take too long as most just want a beer. The best thing about bartending is that every time you bring a drink to them, they tip you, most only a fiver but if you serve five of them and they give you a fiver, that’s twenty-five pounds. Bailey walks in just as I’m handing the drinks out, a smile on her face. She gives me a quick wave before hurrying into the changing room to get changed.
“You finishing now, Katy?” Barry asks. He’s here every night without fail. He’s actually really nice and he always tips well.
“Yeah, don’t worry though. You’ll have Bailey to take care of you,” I say with a smile as I hand him his drink. He always has a scotch on the rocks.
“Okay, thank you Katy. I hope you have a good night.” He hands me a tip, but instead of the usual way he gives them to me, this one is balled up, like he doesn’t want anyone to see what it is.
“Thank you, Barry, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Grateful that he always tips me, I slip his tip into the pocket of my apron, where all the others are, I’ll count it later on.
Bailey’s waiting for me at the bar, her eyes twinkling, she wants to talk. Her eyes always twinkle when she wants to know something. She’s the biggest gossip I know, and that’s saying something as the old ladies who live in our estate meet up every Friday and talk about the gossip they’ve acquired over the week. “Oh my God, Katy. What the hell was Layla doing here? She’s standing out front looking as though she’s waiting for someone, and she looks pretty pissed off.”
Great, that’s all I need, a pissed off Layla. No doubt she’s mad at me. Fuck her, the stupid cow; she started it with her craziness. “I think she came to see Owen, but she saw us talking and lost the plot.”
Bailey gives a sharp intake of breath. “Oh shit, what did that bitch say?”
“She said that I’m trying to steal Owen from her, when I told her that wasn’t the case, she agreed because who would want to go out with me?” Thankfully, I’m not someone that gets upset about what other people think of me. As long as I have my family and Molly, I don’t care what anyone else thinks.
Bailey leans against the bar, crossing her arms over her chest. “Cheeky bitch.”
“Right? Um, how old is Layla?” When I said she looked forty she looked as though she was about to cry, not to mention that Damien thought it was funny.
Bailey shrugs. “I’m not really sure. I think she’s thirty-five, she’s not that much younger than Damien, and Damien’s thirty-seven.”
“Oh.” No wonder she was so shocked.
Bailey looks at me in question.
“I told her that she should really act her age, I honestly thought she was forty.” I feel really bad for saying it now. No wonder Damien was laughing so much.
Bailey snorts, and my eyes widen. “I’m sorry, but that is the best thing I’ve ever heard. Besides it’s true. That woman has had so much work done that she looks older than she actually is, not to mention the makeup she wears. It’s awful. It looks like she never learnt how to apply it.” She stops and a horrified expression settles over her face. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“It’s okay. I’m not going to say anything. What’s said between us, stays between us.” She smiles gratefully at me, I wouldn’t tell anyone what she said. It’s nobody else’s business except ours. “Do you know what time Tyra’s meant to come in?”
Tyra’s also learning how to work the bar, Saffron will be teaching her during the day.
“I think she’s due in at seven. You waiting for her before you leave?” I kind of feel bad, because Bailey’s been here longer than me, but she wasn’t invited to Saff’s hen night. “I’d be okay if you wanted to get away early.”
“No, it’s fine. I was just wondering. Besides, this is when it starts to get busier.” There are more girls coming in now, but none of them can work the bar, most of them are for the back room.
I never realised how busy that gets until last week when I had to serve drinks in there. It’s bloody huge, and each booth is secluded yet there’s twenty booths. I counted them. At the weekend, those booths are always occupied. Fifteen minutes, that’s how long they have and each time they’re finished, the girls have just enough time to have a drink and sort themselves out before they have to go again. It’s hard, but so worth it for them, it’s a grand a dance. All money goes directly to the girls.
There’s one rule here for the members: don’t touch the girls. We have our rules too. We’re not allowed to sleep with the members, definitely not allowed to have sex with the members while doing a lap dance. Apparently, before Damien took over, the old owner allowed the girls to sleep with the men that came in; this wasn’t a member exclusive club before. Any Tom, Dick, or Harry could walk in off the street and expect to have sex with the girls. I’ve heard horror stories of the girls not having a choice, they either did as they were told, or they found a new job. The girls contracted STIs and some even got pregnant. They were unable to work because of it, I was even told that someone contracted HIV, but one of the other girls said that was just a rumour. From what I learned about how it was run before Damien, I wouldn’t be surprised if it was true.
“You sure? You need to get changed and everything yet,” Bailey says. She really is so sweet,
“I’ll be fine, honestly. It doesn’t take me too long to get changed.” I reach over and squeeze her hand. “You okay?”
She nods but I can tell that she’s not. “Mum didn’t recognise me today. I knew it would happen eventually but knowing it and witnessing it are two different things.” Her mum has early onset dementia and is rapidly declining. Bailey is working here to pay for the nursing home. She started working here to pay off the medical bills her mum had when she had breast cancer. It truly has been a difficult four years for her. She’s trying her best to put one foot in front of the other, but the h
its just keep coming.
“I’m sorry. God.” I can’t imagine what she’s going through right now, it must be so hard. “If you need anything, I’m here, okay?” I know how much having people who care about you around means. I’ll never be able to thank Molly enough for being by my side; she’ll never know how grateful I really am.
“I know, today was just hard. Thank you, though.” She turns towards the members, and I can see her scouring them, she wants a way out of this conversation.
“You don’t need to thank me. What are friends for? We still on for shopping on Tuesday?” The past three Tuesdays, Bailey and I have met for lunch and then gone shopping. Tuesday, Thursday, and Saturday mornings, Molly and I swim. It’s been helping me tone my muscles along with being a form of exercise.
Her face softens, her eyes crinkling at the corner as she smiles. “Definitely, it’s going to sound pathetic, but you’re my only friend, so I love shopping with you.”
I can’t believe she doesn’t have any friends. “How is that even possible?” I’m stunned, she’s so friendly. Well, she has been to me. She approached me so it’s not as though she’s shy or anything.
“When Mum got sick, any friends I did have bailed. It’s not fun asking someone to hang out only for them to repeatedly say no.” She shrugs like it’s no big deal. “I don’t blame them. I’ve been really busy working and looking after Mum. I never had the chance to make any new ones.”
“Well you have now.” I give her a reassuring smile, just as the door to the club opens and in walks Tyra. “Hey Ty,” I call out, glad to see her so I can finally start getting ready.
“Hey Katy, give me five and I’ll be ready.” She looks around as she walks towards the changing room, “Slow today, huh?”
“Ticking over, it’ll probably pick up later.” I walk out to collect the empty glasses again, Bailey following behind ready to take their orders. This is where she’ll take over and get the tips now.
The Sacrifices of Life (The Working Girls Book 3) Page 9
