Taming Rough Waters

by Samantha Wolfe

  "Of course, you are," she said calmly. "But don't worry. I have a plan for that."

  "You do?" I asked as I looked back up at her hopefully.

  She nodded. "Come on, let's get your purse put in your locker."

  I followed her, admiring her fitted red pants suit that hugged her curves. I didn't think I could have pulled off something so flashy like that, but she looked amazing in it. I got the sense that Gwen loved bold colors since she had bright royal blue on yesterday.

  The clean and brightly lit break room was actually pretty big with a kitchenette that had a sink, a microwave, and a refrigerator. A comfy looking couch sat against one wall opposite a swath of lockers on the other, and several tables and chairs filled the center of the room. Over by the lockers, a dark-haired young woman was stuffing her bag into one of them. She turned and pointed a megawatt smile and big warm brown eyes my way. She looked Latino and was very pretty with curves and boobs for miles that her boring uniform couldn't hide. She also looked like she was barely old enough to be here. Suddenly, I felt old.

  "Ella," Gwen said as she led me to the new girl, "I'd like you to meet Melanie."

  "Hi," Melanie said as her smile widened. She reached a hand out to me.

  "Hi," I replied as I shook her hand.

  "I'm pairing you with Melanie tonight so she can show you the ropes and keep you out of trouble," Gwen said. "How does that sound?"

  "That sounds great," I answered amiably even as I stifled a beleaguered sigh. Yup, I was being trained by a kid.

  "Gwen tells me that you're a single mom too," Melanie said. Did she have the kid when she was in middle school?

  I smiled and nodded. "I have a ten-year-old daughter."

  "My little boy is five." She made a pained expression. "I had him really young, just out of high school." Okay, so maybe she wasn't a baby, but she was still over a decade younger than me. Her face lit up, and her eyes softened. "But Jonah's the best thing that ever happened to me no matter how I came by him."

  Ah, now I understood why Gwen was pairing me with this girl. I felt the same way about my daughter, despite who fathered her.

  "So's my Violet." I smiled genuinely now, actually starting to feel a little more at ease.

  "Your locker is right here," Gwen said as she stepped past me to touch one of the lockers. "I'm going to turn you over to Melanie now, but if you need me, I'll be around."

  "Thanks, Gwen," I told her sincerely.

  "You're very welcome," she said with a soft smile. She reached out to touch my upper arm. "You're going to be just fine tonight. You'll see."

  I nodded, not entirely feeling the confidence she seemed to have in me. Gwen left, and I shoved my purse into the locker before turning to face Melanie.

  "Full disclosure," I said grimly. "I haven't worked in a really long time." My voice started to waver slightly, and I hated it. "So please just be patient with me, and I'll do my best not to screw things up too much."

  "Don't worry," Melanie said with a reassuring smile. "I'll talk you through everything, and I'll be with you all night. You'll be fine."

  Would I? I hoped so. "Okay," I agreed with her, even though I was doubtful I'd be fine at all.

  Melanie's smile widened. "Come on, let's do this."

  I nodded and followed her out into the hall, convinced now that I'd bitten off more than I could chew when I took this job.

  After Melanie gave me a brief yet thorough run-through of how everything worked, the nightclub opened at seven o'clock. The club lights came on, and I stood in amazement as the place morphed from the modernly decorated and starkly industrial space into a sensual and seductive nightclub ready for a night of excess and indulgence. Color changing LED lights lit up the old brick walls, rotating through blue, green, and purple. More LEDs spilled across the dance floor along the slightly raised floor of the seating areas and the DJ booth that flanked it. Swirling and flashing lights on the ceiling spun above the room as pulsing bass-heavy dance music filled the room and throbbed in my chest. The transformation was incredible, and I was impressed.

  I shadowed Melanie for the first hour as the club slowly filled up. To my surprise, I began picking up the job a lot quicker than I thought I would. I was so happy and relieved to be proven wrong. Several hours later, I even felt confident enough that when Melanie suggested that I try a table on my own, I immediately agreed.

  At first, it went well. My table was a group of college-aged guys who started out polite and easy to deal with since they just ordered a few pitchers of the club's cheapest draft beer. Somewhere along the line as they continued drinking, their initial politeness began to wane. They started getting loud and belligerent as time progressed, but thankfully hadn't aimed any of it at me. Eventually, they ended up ordering some appetizers with their next pitcher, which was probably a good thing since they were getting pretty drunk. I took their food order to the kitchen immediately, then was headed toward the bar for their next pitcher when Melanie found me.

  "Hey," she said with a frazzled expression. "I just got a bachelorette party in our section. Do you think you can help me out with it?"

  "Sure," I replied immediately, ready for a little break from the drunken idiots at my table.

  I followed her, and we spent the next fifteen minutes trying to take drink orders from a bunch of giggling half-drunk twenty-somethings with overdone hair, plastered on makeup, and the short attention span of a group of toddlers. It was frustrating and infuriating, but Melanie and I muddled through it. When we finished, I headed to the pass-through window from the kitchen to grab the appetizers for my table.

  I smiled as I approached the table. "Here you go, guys," I announced politely as I put the food down. "Enjoy." I turned to walk away.

  "Where the fuck do you think you're going?" one of them growled out angrily.

  I whirled to find them all glaring at me. "Excuse me?"

  "Yeah, bitch," another said with a sneer. "Did you fucking forget something?"

  "Uh...um..." I looked around the table of glaring male faces in confusion. Memories of Ray looking at me that same way had icy fear creeping up inside me, chasing all coherent thought out of my head.

  "What's the matter, you too stupid to fucking talk?"

  "Yeah, you dumb cow," a third one added. "Where's our fucking beer?"

  "I'm...I'm so...so s...sorry," I finally blurted out. Yup, I'd completely forgotten about their drink order.

  "What is this, your first fucking day?" the guy snarled out as he glowered at me fiercely.

  "I...I..." I stuttered out stupidly. I felt my body shrinking in on itself, instinctively reacting as the fear became terror.

  "I...I...I," one of them mocked me with a smirk. "You really are stupid, aren't you?"

  "Quit standing there like a dumbfuck and get us our goddamn beer, bitch," another growled out at me.

  More memories of Ray verbally berating me flooded my head, making me feel worthless and stupid. I nodded jerkily and scurried away as I fought the tears of humiliation that burned my eyes. I quickly got the pitcher of beer from the bar and hurried back over to the table, hoping I could placate them with it. I'd learned from Ray to do whatever I had to do to keep him happy. The unhappy Ray was a monster I'd tried to keep at bay at all costs.

  I was a few feet from the table when I misstepped in my haste and stumbled. I lurched forward, somehow managing not to fall, but the pitcher of beer flew out of my hands, flinging beer all over one of the men at the table. He surged to his feet spluttering expletives as his chair tumbled over backwards. His drunk idiot friends began laughing at him, but he didn't think it was funny at all.

  "You stupid fucking cow!" he snarled out viciously at me as he lunged forward and grabbed my upper arms. "You fucking bitch!"

  His bruising grip made me remember Ray's hands on me just like this. Ray never came right out and struck me, but he had no problem pushing and shoving me around. I was so terrified that I couldn't even try to get away as the man shook me sharply and c
ontinued yelling obscenities at me.

  Finally, he flung me away in disgust, and I fell to my knees on the floor. Then he stepped toward me, his face a mask of rage and his hands clenched into fists. I closed my eyes and cringed away, waiting for him to hit me.

  "What the fuck is going on here?!" a deep and powerful male voice barked out from nearby. I opened my eyes and looked up to see the back of a tall broad-shouldered man standing between me and my attacker.

  "Who the fuck are you?" the beer soaked guy shot back angrily.

  "I'm the club's owner," came the immediate and stern reply, and for some reason, his voice sounded familiar, but I was too freaked out to comprehend why.

  "This clumsy bitch spilled beer all over me," he snarled out. "She should be fired."

  Oh no, I couldn't afford to lose this job.

  "So you think that gave you permission to assault her then?" the man who I now knew as the club owner replied, his voice hard and commanding.

  "No," the guy replied vehemently. "She...she fell. I told you she was clumsy."

  "Really?" the owner asked dubiously. "Perhaps I should go review the security footage and see for myself."

  "I...I...uh..." His voice was weak and unsure now.

  Just then a giant beast of a man with short dark hair came up behind the guy. He was massive, and had to be at least six and a half feet tall and well over three hundred pounds of pure muscle. A black T-shirt with the word "security" in white letters emblazoned across it was stretched around his huge barreled chest.

  "Is everything alright here, sir?" he said, his voice low and threatening in a completely unexpected British accent.

  The drunk guy whirled and looked up with a suddenly pale and fearful expression.

  "No, Pete," the owner answered. "I believe these men need escorted from my club immediately." He laced the word "men" with obvious disdain.

  "Consider it done, Mr. Rennen," Pete said as he turned a hard baleful stare at the entire group of drunks, who were already scrambling out of their chairs to leave.

  Wait, did he just say the name Rennen?

  Electric prickles of dread shivered through me. It couldn't possibly be him. It couldn't be. Before I could even process what was happening, the club's owner turned to face me, and reached a hand down toward me.

  "Are you alright?" his rich and sonorous voice spoke, the reason for its familiarity completely apparent now. It was a voice I knew intimately, and still haunted my dreams and nightmares to this day.

  I looked up into piercing crystalline blue eyes as they widened in startled surprise. I stared up at him in stunned recognition. I remembered that face, that strong straight nose, those keen penetrating eyes, and his soft almost black wavy hair.

  "Cal?" I asked in dumbfounded incredulity. How could this be?

  For a brief second, those blue eyes softened, a ghost of the kind young man I once knew so long ago, but it just as quickly disappeared as they hardened into instant granite. He pulled his hand away and straightened, his body rigid and tense with suppressed anger now.

  "My office," he growled out in a low tone that carried so much weight and resonance that his command couldn't be denied. "Now."

  Without another word, he whirled and stalked away as I sat on the floor and stared after him in paralyzed shock.

  CHAPTER

  SIX

  ____________________

  Calder

  I slammed the door that led from the club into my office suite with such force that it reverberated through the walls and rattled the framed art. I stormed through the office with an onslaught of pain and anger raging inside me. I shot a glare at Gwen's now empty desk as I shot past her office, glad she wasn't here, or I'd probably fucking fire her right now. I made a beeline straight for my office like it was some sort of refuge that could save me. I rushed into the familiar room and stopped just past the doorway, not knowing what to do now that I was in here and didn't feel any calmer. I clamped my eyes closed and tried to slow my ragged breathing, clenching my hands into fists and shaking from the effort.

  She was here. Fucking here. The second I recognized her as I reached down to help her up off the floor had felt like a sucker punch to my gut, a blow to my brain. Those steel blue eyes cut deeply into me, a blade so sharp and bright. I remembered how it felt sifting my fingers through that flaxen blond hair, how those soft heart-shaped lips felt against mine like it was yesterday and not twelve long years ago. My body, my soul instantly yearned for her, wanting to pull her up into my arms and hold her close, to feel her against me and never let her go. The unsettling way that it reminded me of a heroin craving had terrified me beyond measure, and scared me to death.

  I almost just took off completely after I recognized her, but some common sense had prevailed. If she worked here, then I had to do something about it. I couldn't deal with her being here everyday. I feared it would send me running back into the deceptively comforting arms of heroin and destroy what was left of me. I had to fire her now for my own sanity's sake, but I couldn't deal with any of that in the middle of the club. I couldn't risk any of my employees seeing me so rattled and out of sorts. I couldn't let them see my weakness. I couldn't let her see it either. I couldn't let her see the power I didn't even know she still had over me until I saw her again tonight. I needed control. I needed calm. I needed to breathe.

  I gasped in a harsh breath and forced myself to let it out slowly. I did it again, and again. I had to calm down because I didn't have much time before she walked in here. I opened my eyes and stared at my desk, trying to gather my thoughts past the chaos in my head. I needed to think and figure out a plan. I needed a reason to let her go that had nothing to do with the effect she had on me.

  On a whim, I rushed over to sit at my desk and searched through the stack of file folders in my in-box. I found the resumes that Gwen gave me the day before the interviews. I never looked at them, but I was going to now. I sat down and shuffled through them, searching for that familiar name. Part way through, her first name caught my eye, but the last name was different. I thought maybe it wasn't her, but when I checked the birthday, it definitely was. I stared at the name, Ella Voss, as my heart clenched painfully. She'd married someone else, made a life with someone else. She left me behind and moved on like I was nothing, a nobody.

  I squeezed my eyes shut and took that pain and anguish and shoved it down, twisting it into something I could deal with, could work with; hard unyielding control and cold distant detachment. I'd show her I'd moved on and made a life for myself too, made something of myself. I'd make sure she knew that she no longer meant anything to me. Then I'd fire her ass, and never see her again. I'd have my revenge. With that thought, I pushed the last of the chaos out of my head and was back in control again as cold calmness finally fell over me. It was just in time.

  A soft noise caught my attention, and I opened my eyes to see her just outside the doorway into my office, into my sanctuary. She looked cowed and terrified as she stood there, her eyes lost and unsure as she stared at the floor. Her entire demeanor was tense and anxious, her hands fidgeting at her sides. This was a version of Ella that I'd never seen before, and it pulled at my heart, but I refused to let it get to me. After all, I wasn't the same person I was twelve years ago either, she'd made sure of that when she up and left me.

  "Come in, and shut the door," I said in a hard commanding tone as I stood up from my chair.

  She nodded and stepped into the office as she pulled the door closed behind her. She stood there as her eyes darted all over the room without looking at me, shrinking in on herself as if she wanted to disappear, a mere ghost of the woman I once knew. I ignored the part of me that was bothered by it. I didn't want to feel anything for this woman. I let her suffer in her obvious anxiety, and took a long moment to look at her.

  Her face was older now of course, but she still looked beautiful to me with her high cheekbones, little nose, and those perfectly arched brows. Her flaxen hair was up, and I could see the lon
g elegant line of her slender neck. She wasn't as thin and willowy as I remembered, but the little bit of extra weight gave the curves of her hips and breasts a soft lushness that only made her more appealing, more feminine.

  After a long moment, she managed to meet my hard gaze. Those beautiful steel blue eyes pulled me in, hitting me like a jolt of raw electricity, and my body reacted against my will. Stark desire uncoiled inside me at the thought of my fingers pressing into the soft flesh of her hips as I pulled them tight against mine. I wanted to bring my lips to her neck, to kiss and nibble my way up to her warm soft lips, to taste what once was mine. My reaction pissed me off, and I shoved those thoughts away, ignoring the part of me that still wanted her, craved her.

  "H...how are you here?" she whispered with a pained and lost expression.

  "What?" I asked harshly. "Did you expect me to be dead or in prison by now?" I crossed my arms and glared at her, knowing how intimidating I must look and wanting to use it to my advantage. I regarded her with a cold indifferent stare meant to intimidate as well. Both worked.

  She looked at the floor again and blinked rapidly. "I...I..."

  That's what I thought. My anger flamed higher, and I lashed out with cold precision.

  "After you left me, I didn't have anything to hold me back and keep me from making something of myself." I glanced down and scanned through her resume, noting her job history, or the lack thereof. "Something I see you never managed to do."

  Her lips quavered and pressed together as her eyes welled with tears. I pressed on, ignoring how much being cruel to her bothered me.

  "I entrusted my assistant to hire qualified and experienced employees, and you are neither," I said. "Given our history and my assistant's apparent oversight in hiring you, I think it's best that I let you go."

  She gasped, her face paling as panic flooded her eyes. "Please Cal-" she began in a pleading tone.

  "Don't call me that," I cut her off sharply making her startle. "No one calls me that anymore. No one." Not since her, not since she destroyed that young naive man I once was. It pained me to hear her use that name.