Taking Jana (Paradise South #2)

by Rissa Brahm

  Damn it, that wasn’t it. She knew she had no control over her life or her fucking asshole family members. ‘Jana the daughter,’ ‘Jana the dancer’––neither of them had ever had control. But ‘Jana the nurse,’ she’d had it all. And she needed to remain ‘Jana, the nurse.’ At her Manhattan ER, dammit! She needed that to be in-hand. Solid. “Please Nora, see what you can do about the longest leave of absence possible. Unpaid, of course! Just, I can’t say what my folks will need and for how long, and I cannot lose my spot there. Please.”

  “Of course, Jana. I will talk to HR right away. Explain the situation. Of course.”

  “Oh God, thank you, Nora. And I’m sorry to be so emotional. Just thank you so much.” She was embarrassed. She closed her hand more tightly around her mouth and the phone to block the road noise. “Oh Nora, let me let you go, the cardiologist just came into the room.”

  “Of course, go. Watch your email and I’ll be in touch, sweetie.”

  *

  She hit ‘end’ and readjusted her tear-blurred eyes to her surroundings, most immediately, a white, wispy tissue dangling in her face. She grabbed it from Tony’s hand with a subtle huff. He could’ve pretended that he hadn’t heard her crying. She looked up to the rearview as she wiped her face, his deep brown eyes set on the road. He at least knew not to make eye contact. But as she dabbed at her running nose, he glanced up, his eyes searching hers…those criticizing, crucifying eyes pretending to care. She didn’t need his pity or his stupid tissues. He mocked her with his pseudo-innocence, his soft, almost empathetic look piercing through her.

  She held his stare, though, and with her eyes and no words she told him all she wanted to say. You’re a chauffeur, asshole. Get the hell over yourself.

  CHAPTER 18

  Up in the VIP rooms overlooking the stage below, Johnnie had prepared a table just short of candlelit. Tucked away in the farthest reaches of the loft level, easy red and pink indirect lighting set the mood. He was ready to subtly slay his fantasy girl.

  When she walked in with her panther black hair falling down her back, spilling over her shoulders, he stood up, captivated, ready to greet her and devour her whole. God, he was glad she couldn’t read his thoughts. They were incessant and out of control.

  And he wouldn’t even try to fight them.

  The club’s youngest dancer, Laynie, had brought Jana up to him. The girl stood and waited until Johnnie gave her a dismissive nod, then left them. Good little Laynie.

  “I’ve actually never been up here,” Jana told him as he kissed her on the cheek, her eyes taking it all in and maybe adjusting to the darkness.

  “It was built just after you left. Here, please.” He pulled out a chair for her. “So, you’ve been doing all right, with your father and all? And Tony is there when you need him?”

  She cleared her throat then smiled. “Yes, yes. Thank you. Thanks for asking.” She hung her purse on the back of her chair.

  He could tell she was nervous and was controlling it as best she could. After sitting, her hands fidgeted on the table’s surface. He’d put something lean and hard into her hands, into her body, just as soon as she felt comfortable with him. That was the plan. But for now, to calm her, Johnnie waved at the half-naked bleach-blonde server texting on her phone while holding up a wall. He cleared his throat and pointed at the top shelf behind the bar.

  “I took the liberty of ordering appetizers and dinner for us. Hope you don’t mind.” This was how his old-style Italian grandfather had told him it was done. A real man. Despite the times, it displayed confidence, gentility, care, and of course, control.

  “I’ve never…yeah, no, that’s fine. Should I even ask what you chose, or did you intend it to be a surprise?” Her face brightened, seemingly liking surprises. Oh, would he surprise her up and down her tight, little cunt. And he’d enjoy the game of getting there very much.

  “Surprise intended.” He smiled as the waitress came over with tequila shots. “And here’s to your first night back at the club, now as my consultant.” He winked. “And to a successful business relationship.” He lifted his glass.

  Her glass tapped his as she tilted her head in brief thought, then tipped the glass back against her luscious, heart-shaped mouth. As she swallowed the drink down, he watched her throat ripple, then her shoulders shiver as the icy-hot liquid went down. Like his cock would go so far down that slender fucking throat of hers. He shivered at the thought. She giggled, probably thinking he’d been affected by the shot too.

  “It’s been a while since I’ve had a drink,” he fibbed, placing his empty glass lightly on the table. Oh no, he definitely partied. Often and hard. But very different than other party-bound college-graduated guys, Johnnie Demonte didn’t get stupid and sloppy when he drank or snorted. No, he was sophisticated. And he’d show her how sophisticated he was…in all ways.

  He relished the thought of pleasing her in all ways while he watched and studied her, mesmerized at how she immediately softened, her lips slightly parted, maybe parched, thirsty for water, but he called for another round of shots instead. He watched her eyes as they scanned the club’s bar, then down below them to the stage, watching the straggling girls work the pre-crowd and then only briefly meeting his eyes before darting back to their surroundings again.

  Once the second shots were down, he could have flipped her open like a filthy magazine, thumbed through each and every page of her life, of her sex, of her juicy satin slit…but not yet. Patience.

  Instead, he played all business. He’d make her trust his intentions, as there was no time or room for doubt. He explained his ideas, the roster of dancers he had now, things he had changed since Eddie’s management, and the summary revenue he’d been pulling, and then the goal number he aimed to reach. She seemed awestruck, hanging on every sentence.

  “So, what do you think?” he asked as their filet mignon entrees were served.

  “They could use work for certain,” she said.

  “Oh, sorry, should I send them back? I had these cuts brought in special from—”

  “God, no. I’m sorry…I meant the girls…the girls need work. The meal looks divine,” she said, shaking her head and blushing perfectly.

  He loved how he affected her, got rock-hard from it. “Good and yes. You have your work cut out for you. I can’t wait to watch you train them into shape, though,” he said with one eyebrow raised. Then he took his first bite of meat. He wasn’t going to hide his attraction toward her. And he felt she wasn’t hiding hers for him from the way her eyes drifted toward his, but would then shift away when he’d look to meet her gaze. So sweet. She was just so fucking sweet he could come.

  “I, uh, need you to know, Johnnie,” she said without touching her food, “that I really have to just keep focused, you know, on the project, and taking care of my family. Their financial matters are really overwhelming, only second to my dad’s health, and I can’t make him see the severity. It’s like I’m the parent…or maybe I always have been.” Her last words trailed, as if an afterthought.

  “Of course. You must be incredibly bombarded. And I appreciate your focus, and there’s nothing else that needs to be said, Jana. Really…”

  “Are you sure? I kind of feel as though we have an unspoken…whatever—thing going on here. And, you know, I just can’t act on that, especially being that you’re my boss. But even if you weren’t, I can’t get distracted with—”

  “I absolutely understand. Relationships require as much focus and attention as anything,” he said, “if they’re to ever actually work out.” And the required focus or attention wasn’t something he had ever really wanted to put in before…before now. “Friends. A relaxed friendship between colleagues can definitely be a positive outlet, yes?” He smiled, not hiding the glimmer in his eye. Oh, how he’d give her an outlet she’d never fucking forget.

  Jana sighed, her shoulders loosened. “Friends sounds good.”

  *

  She smiled, easing back into her chair, showing
more of a change in her demeanor from his words than from the two shots of tequila.

  His words had made her melt, and she’d see over the next weeks, as soon as she’d surrendered, that his actions would make her goddamn pour. Really, thank God she wasn’t hearing his thoughts right now. But on the other hand, if only she could hear his perverse plans, see his mind’s images of her gasping with shock and awe and bliss with the inevitable electricity he’d send shooting into her. He imagined the very sensation shoot up his steel hard shaft, and, God, he fucking wanted her. He could send the steaks crashing to the floor right then and lay her out on the table. Fuck her senseless. With everyone there watching. Mmmmm.

  Compose yourself. He blew a slow stream of air through his nose and fought to find his voice. “You ready for dessert?” He lifted his eyebrows at the server who was back to texting. He shook his head, lifted his arm up in the air to wave at her, and the blonde rushed over with two bowls of strawberries and cream. “I figured a fruit something would be your pleasure. Your body is in phenomenal shape. I’m sure you eat and work for it. I keep the sugar intake down myself, but fresh fruit once a week isn’t horrible.” He smiled again. “After this, you wanna meet the girls? You met Laynie already.”

  “She’s a sweetie. Reminds me of me then—on the shy side, but that became my biggest strength,” she said, one side of her lip curling up, but a solemn expression wiped across her face as if remembering when she’d danced on stage like she’d wanted to be just about anywhere else. He could tell she’d hated it. But she had nothing to worry about now. He’d keep her off that stage and off their laps and all to his damn self. So help him.

  “I actually remember one show you did to an old nineties alternative rock pick. It shocked me how slow it was, but you were mesmerizing, again, in your own world. The entire room was pin-drop quiet. You had them eating out of the palm of your hand.”

  She only smiled, and kept her gaze down, looking at her hands. Her fidgeting had resumed.

  “Would you prefer to stay up here and watch, take notes? I actually have some things to take care of in my office. I’m going to be on the Island Monday through Friday, building inspectors all week long at the new club.”

  She looked confused and concerned all at once. He nipped her worry in the bud, though.

  “But I’ll have already introduced you to everyone tomorrow night in an official mandatory meeting. You’ll be fine. I’ll announce your position, hand you the torch so to speak, and you do what you want. Make training sessions mandatory before shifts all through the week? Whatever you feel is best, I’ll back you up all the way.” All the way, every way. Backways, frontways, sideways, and upside-down ways. From now ’til fuckin’ forever.

  She nodded. “Sounds fine….”

  Maybe she wanted him there for support, or maybe to be near him like he wanted to be near her? But he did need to be onsite for the inspections in Merrick, but also, he wanted her to feel uncomfortable when he was gone, and pure contentment and satisfaction when he was with her. The association would expedite the timetable for him getting her. Having her.

  “Oh, I’ll be fine,” she said as he watched her persona shift. She’d become what he imagined ‘Jana the NYC ER nurse’ to be like. “I’ll call you if I have any questions, but it’ll be better if ‘Papa Bear’ is gone, you know?” She smiled. “And I’ll stay up here for now. Go do your office work. I’m good, really.”

  He nodded and inhaled her essence one last time before he pushed back his chair.

  “Oh, would you send Laynie up on your way down? I want to get a feel for the place from a newbie’s perspective.”

  She really would rock this place. He knew it, as he patted himself on the back for having thought up the grand plan. He’d get his cake and eat it too. Get to fuck the living daylights out of his forever fantasy girl, and take credit for the increase in revenue at the club. He couldn’t wait to shove that shit in his dad’s always-scowling face.

  He leaned into her and whispered, “There she is…a perfect blend of timid and feisty. But obviously always so in control.” He pushed his chair out, stood, then moved to leave, however reluctant he was to do so.

  “Come say goodbye to me before you leave tonight, will you?”

  “Sure…of course.”

  “Thank you for joining me for dinner.”

  “Thank you for having me.”

  Oh fuck, will I ever have you, Jana Park!

  He smiled, placed a light kiss on her cheek as he might do to any associate, not really, and then couldn’t help brushing his fingertips over her bare shoulder on his way by her. “A piece of lint,” he whispered. Oh God, the electricity that shot through him from her skin blew the air out of his lungs.

  He willed himself to walk, to go. But after he’d taken a whole five strides he had to look back at her, there at their table, hovering above everyone below. His royal highness.

  CHAPTER 19

  She made her exit and was glad to breathe fresh air again. Well, industrial Newark fresh, that is.

  She walked across the parking lot to the limo.

  She smiled politely but made no eye contact with Tony the Driver as he held the car door open for her. Instead of the door slamming shut, though, she still sensed his presence. He was lingering. She turned her face toward the open door, wondering what the holdup was. She was damn tired and anxious to crash.

  “I wanted to apologize for insulting you earlier. It was absolutely not my intention,” Tony said in a calming baritone, countering the louder octaves she had bouncing around in her brain from inside the club. Even over the practically romantic dinner she’d had earlier in the night with Johnnie, they’d had to shout across the small table because of the reverberating bass resounding throughout the place.

  She started to speak, to answer him, but he interrupted her by silently holding a small black device inches from her face. “It’s an mp3 player. You’re probably in real need of some peace and quiet, but maybe a musical distraction would do? It has playlists of every genre.”

  She stared at it. He kept his hand out for her to take it, and when she finally did, her nerves tightened and her breath hitched. She’d literally made a note to herself to–God, that was super strange and really just…nice of him.

  Had she gotten him all wrong? From the tissue to wipe her tears, to the coffee he’d brought earlier, a thoughtful gesture to help her through her god-awful day with one hellish part extending into another. From putrid house to hospital to the dreaded strip club she abhorred. That she now consulted for. Not stripped at, but consulted for.

  Shit.

  Was that ‘consultant’ comment just him trying to make conversation? After all, the question wasn’t baseless. He had been hired by Johnnie, a strip club owner, to drive her, a mysterious strip club ‘consultant.’ Had her brain spun his words into the biting judgment she’d expected to hear? Or believed herself, even?

  And then what had she done? She’d basically spit in his face. So much for wanting to be treated like a regular person and not like a royal, elitist bitch. She’d ended up acting like one all on her own.

  She fingered the small, sleek device and called up the courage to look at him and utter a thank you to start with, but he had already shut her car door and situated himself in his driver’s seat. Stealthy.

  *

  He started the ignition and the limo rolled forward. “Where to for the evening?”

  Oh right, where to? The hospital armchair’s where to. Ugh.

  God, if she didn’t want to pay for a motel, maybe she should, at least, hire a maid service at her parents’ place, and get the restaurant deep cleaned too. To be ready for sale? She could pray, right? Anyway, it might cost her a few hundred dollars, same as one week at a crappy motel. But the nastiness level was so high, especially with the restaurant operating—and the fight with her folks to close it had been a massive fail so far—she’d need to have it cleaned every week to make it habitable for her. And she had three months to go
!

  Well, for tonight, because she was again too tired to think on it or anything anymore, she’d have to surrender to her best option. “To the hospital, please.”

  She’d spoken with as soft a tone as she’d heard herself utter since being with her sweet little patient, Ashley. It threw her and made the fine hairs on the back of her neck stand on end. She inhaled deep to shake the chill, then leaned forward, both arms and elbows on the center divide. “Hey, um, thank you for this.” She nodded at the music player in her hands.

  “Don’t mention it,” he said, eyes focused on the freeway’s merging traffic. Then he smiled up at the rearview mirror. She felt forgiven with that smile, and a kind empathy showed through his brightened eyes. A clean slate, then. She sighed with relief. A clean slate.

  Before leaning back to settle in for the ride, she noticed a black gym bag on his front seat; a hairbrush and toiletries were just visible through the half-opened zipper. It never occurred to her that he probably lived in Newark or nearby it, on duty twenty-four seven, shuttling her all the way to Fort Lee. It was only day two, but he’d be expected to do that every day for three months?

  And waiting for her wherever she was? Where the hell did he sleep? And shower? He smelled good, a subtle musk and aftershave thing going, so he showered somewhere. Right? Yes, of course. She wouldn’t embarrass him by asking of course, but she felt even worse now, picturing him sleeping in his limo like she’d been sleeping in the armchair in her father’s hospital room. Well, the limo would seem more comfortable than the chair, but still.

  Maybe she was blowing things out of proportion, though. Maybe he had family in Fort Lee. She didn’t have to feel bad if he had a place to stay or even a hotel room. “So, do you live in Newark?” She couldn’t help asking.

  “Close to the club, actually. Not the best neighborhood, but it’s really close to work.”