“I suppose.” Jeff leaned back in his black leather chair and clasped his hands behind his head. “So what’s with you taking Friday night off?”
“You take a night off every week,” I said, scowling at him. “What’s it to you?”
“Don’t get me wrong, I’m glad you finally took a night off. You should do it every week. I’m just asking why.”
“I went out with someone.”
He gave me an amused grin, brows arched in expectation. “And . . . ?”
“And what? I need to get down to the floor.”
“Sit your ass back down and tell me about this woman who convinced you to take a night off. I’m impressed by her already.”
“Hey, here’s a thought.” I gave him a pointed look. “Maybe if I wanted you to know about her, I’d have mentioned it already.”
Jeff waved a hand. “You don’t tell anybody anything, motherfucker.”
“Exactly.” I turned for the door.
“What’s her name? You going out with her again?”
“Viv. And yeah.”
“Good.”
I opened the door and turned back to him.
“Hey, I think it’d be good if you were more knowledgeable about the operations of this place. Why don’t you come spend a couple hours with me tonight? Right now I have to make sure the tub full of Jell-O in Chuck Remington’s suite is firm but not too cold and write up one of the servers for being late again.”
“Uh . . .” Jeff’s eyes widened and slid to the baseball game just starting on the big screen TV mounted across from the desk in his office.
“Fair’s fuckin’ fair,” I said. “No reason for me to summarize it for you because you should experience it all first hand, you know?”
He blew out an exasperated breath. “Fine. Give me ten minutes and I’ll be down.”
I left with a satisfied smirk on my face. I’d teach that bastard not to suck up two hours of my time on boring-ass reports again.
The club was buzzing with conversation and music and I went down to take a look at the floor. I was about to head for the kitchen when I felt fingertips on my forearm.
“Kane.”
It was Sasha . . . something. I couldn’t remember her last name, or maybe I’d never known it.
“Hey, how’s it going?” I asked over the noise.
She leaned closer. “Good. I haven’t seen you in so long. Can we talk in your office?”
I froze. She’d offered to ‘talk in my office’ twice before, and both times it had been code for a fucking amazing blow job. The last time had been more than a month ago, and I’d had a drink with her at the bar after.
But tonight it didn’t feel right.
“Sorry, I’m running behind,” I said. “I’ve got work in the kitchen and upstairs.”
“Later?” She turned her darkly-lined eyes up to me and bit her full, bright pink lower lip.
“I can’t. Sorry.”
Her fingers slid away from my arm and she turned to leave. Was I supposed to say something to make her feel better? Like—hey, it’s not you, it’s me? I was no good at that shit. I just left. She was pretty, she’d find another dick to suck.
One of the hostesses, Drea, found me in the hallway outside the kitchen, her expression telling me she had news I wasn’t gonna like.
“What’s up?” I asked.
“Chuck Remington’s not happy with his Jell-O.”
I glanced at the thick silver watch on my wrist. “The fuck? His reservation isn’t for another hour and fifteen minutes.”
“He said he wanted to make sure everything was just right.”
“Christ.” I rolled my eyes. “Let me guess, the Jell-O’s too cold? He mentioned that several times when he made the reservation. I think he’s worried about shrinkage.”
Drea smiled. “No. It’s strawberry and he wanted cherry.”
“Are you fuckin’ serious right now?”
She held her hands out in a would I joke about this kind of gesture?
“For fuck’s sake, get the guys to change it,” I said, sighing deeply. “Can’t have Chuck screwing his mistress and her friend in strawberry Jell-O instead of cherry.”
Drea nodded and rushed back down the hallway.
Had I ever seen myself managing shit like bathtubs of Jell-O for a living? Hell no. But given the numbers Jeff had just gone over with me, I’d gladly spend years doing this. I’d known the club was doing well, but damn. The success of this place allowed me to save money for the one person who meant the most to me, and that was everything. It also meant I could afford to get some tailored suits and take Viv out for a fancy date this weekend, no costs spared. Wine and dine her and soak up a little more of the way she looked at me.
The way she makes me feel like I’m a better man than I am.
But what then? Take away the nice suit, and what was I?
I’d never tried to be anything other than exactly what I was, but if Viv knew the real me, she’d never look at me the same way again.
I pushed that thought away. No need to ruin a perfectly good date night with a beautiful woman. And if the thought of misleading her for another night pricked at my conscience, I ignored it.
Why?
Because I’m a selfish bastard.
Viv
MY HEART RACED AS I crossed my tiny living room to open the front door. When I swung it open, my pulse kicked up even harder. This time Kane didn’t look nervous. Confidence and desire swam in his dark gaze as it swept over me from head to toe and then back up again.
“Hey. You ready?”
I nodded, my purse already in hand. I’d been ready for a while now. Since last Friday night, actually.
After I locked up, Kane took my hand and led me down the stone stairs to the Town Car.
“You look nice,” he said, opening my door.
I’d gone more casual tonight, choosing dark skinny jeans, tall brown boots and a forest green blouse. He wore dark brown pants and an off-white dress shirt with the top button undone.
“You, too,” I said, sliding onto the leather seat.
“Hi, Len,” I said to Kane’s driver. “How’s it going?”
“Good.” He met my eyes in the rearview mirror and grinned.
Kane slid into his seat and closed the door.
“To Calypso, boss?” Len asked.
“Yep.”
I turned to Kane, frowning. “No. Are you serious? That place is super expensive. And I’m wearing jeans.”
“You look great.”
I couldn’t hold back my cringe. “We don’t need to go to a place like that. I’m happy with pizza.”
“We’ll get pizza next time.”
“But—”
“Viv.” His brows sank down in an ominous glare. “I had to jump through hoops to get this reservation. We’re goin’ to Calypso and we’re gonna eat the fuck out of all that fancy food.”
“Okay. Thank you. I don’t know how you pulled it off. One of the partners at my firm has been trying to get in there for a couple months now and it’s always booked solid.”
He shrugged.
“What were the hoops?” I asked, curiosity getting the better of me.
“Well . . . you know we’ll cater to just about any desire in our Sky Suites at the club.”
I turned to face him. “Sky Suites? Like the room we had dinner in?”
“Yeah. All the upstairs rooms are called Sky Suites. Some are smaller, some are huge. We rent them by the hour but most people want them for a whole night.”
A few seconds passed and I arched my brows expectantly. “And?”
“And the owner of Calypso now has a suite for next weekend.”
“For . . . ?”
Kane smiled cryptically. “I never ask clients that. The less I know, the better.”
“Something tells me you know your fair share.”
“Can’t help it sometimes. Makes me feel really fuckin’ boring to find out what some people are into.”
; I laughed and gave his shoulder a playful shove. “Now you’re just teasing me. How crazy are we talking?”
He shrugged again. “I only have three rules: No one underage comes in, no non-consensual sex and animals can’t give consent.”
“No!” I covered my wide-open mouth with my hand. “Someone tried to bring animals in?”
“They didn’t just try, they did it. One of my guys found a goat asleep in one of the suites when he went to clean it.”
“What the hell?”
He nodded. “Dead serious. It was dressed in lingerie.”
“Oh my God. That’s not okay.”
Our eyes met and we both burst out laughing. He took my hand again, sweeping his thumb across my knuckles. It didn’t feel necessary to fill the silence. There was something heavy in the air between us, but it wasn’t awkwardness. It was anticipation.
Len pulled up near the entrance to Calypso, which had an understated, modern gray exterior. Kane opened my door and waved to Len, who was grinning as he pulled back into traffic.
“He seems like a very happy guy,” I said.
Kane wrapped an arm around my shoulders and gave a low chuckle. “Annoyingly so at times.”
We were nearing the tall wood doors of the restaurant when a sound caught my attention. It was a deep cough that sounded painfully unproductive.
I looked over both shoulders, turning away from Kane. Squinting in the near-darkness, I made out a figure hunched over in a wheelchair about a hundred feet away.
“Hang on,” I said to Kane, walking toward the source of the cough.
I heard him moving behind me. The heels of my boots clicking on the sidewalk made the man in the wheelchair look up as we approached. He wore a ragged stocking cap and was wrapped in a dark blanket. When I looked into his face, I was taken aback by his pale blue eyes. Their vibrant shade seemed out of place on this man with gray whiskers and dark circles beneath his eyes.
“Are you okay?” I asked, bending down so he could see me without straining to look up.
“I’m fine,” he said, waving a hand and breaking into another fit of coughing. His voice was raspy and his cough sounded anything but fine. The cold air caused a cloud of breath to form in front of his face as he coughed.
“Are you cold?” I reached for his blanket so I could tuck it more tightly around him.
He shook his head weakly and tried to shrug the blanket off. “Hot.”
“Are you waiting for someone?”
“I ain’t got nobody. Just sittin’ here ‘cause the cold air helps my lungs.”
He managed to shake the blanket off and I saw that he had no legs. His form-fitted thermal shirt allowed me to see that he was very thin, other than arms that looked developed from wheeling himself around in the chair.
“Do you live nearby?” I asked him.
He chuckled softly. “You could say that. I live wherever I fall asleep at the end of the day.”
I sighed inwardly, thinking about all the people who had probably passed this very sick man and not even looked his way. Not realizing how fortunate they were as they walked past him that at least they could walk.
“You need to see a doctor,” I said gently. “That cough is really bad.”
“Hell with that.” He waved me off. “I don’t want no handouts. I’d take a cough drop if you’ve got one, though.”
Kane touched my shoulder. “Hey. I’ll give him some money.”
I turned and looked up at him. “He needs a doctor, though.”
“We can’t help with that.”
“Sure we can.”
He reached into his pocket. “Want me to call an ambulance?”
“No,” the man said, erupting into another bout of coughing that it hurt me to listen to. He leaned over the edge of the chair, away from us, and spit a mouthful of blood onto the sidewalk.
“What’s your name?” I asked him.
“Alan.”
“Alan, I’m Viv. And I’m going to call a cab and take you to a hospital.”
“They don’t give a shit about some homeless guy,” he said, giving me a scowl that rivaled one of Kane’s.
“Stubbornness won’t work on me,” I said, standing up and pressing an app on my phone for a cab company. “Don’t pretend you’d rather stay here than have a warm bed and a hot meal and some help for that cough.”
Alan said nothing as I called for a cab with the app. I glanced over at Kane, whose expression was unreadable. He looked guarded; cautious.
I wanted to apologize about dinner, but not in front of Alan. Instead we all waited on the curb in silence.
The cab was cruising to a stop when I looked up at Kane.
“You can go grab our table if you want,” I said softly. “I’ll just get him checked in and then meet you here.”
He shook his head, his expression still stoic.
I was glad he hadn’t taken me up on the offer, because he lifted Alan in and out of the cab and also folded and unfolded his wheelchair. He even paid the cab driver.
Alan swatted my hand away when I tried to push him into the open double doors of the nearby hospital’s Emergency Room. I gave Kane an amused glance and walked beside Alan.
The ER was crowded. Alan told us to leave, but I couldn’t. Something told me he’d just wheel himself right back out if we did. Kane and I sat in plastic chairs across from each other because there weren’t two side by side in the whole room. We were quiet, because it wasn’t possible to talk in this room full of coughing, complaining and crying people.
Kane
This place was full of people, but I could only see one: the blue-eyed beauty across from me.
Viv was scrolling on her phone, but every couple minutes she’d look up and lock eyes with me. Hot, urgent need for her ran through my veins every time. It didn’t stop, even when she looked at Alan in a nearby chair. When she reached over and patted his knee, it was all I could do to stay in my seat. I wanted to be touching her right now. Showing her how she made me feel since I couldn’t say it with words.
Sitting across from Viv in this nasty, fluorescent-lit room of illness and misery was reaching me deeper than sitting across from her a fancy restaurant had. Here, I was getting a look at who she really was.
She was good. Kind. She cared about people. And as much as I admired her, tonight was a reminder that she and I were too different.
Night and day.
Dark and light.
Good and bad.
My darkness would dim her light if I got too close. Maybe that was part of the attraction. Maybe a person as shitty as me took perverse pleasure in corrupting beauty.
The closer I got to Viv, the closer I wanted to get. It was never enough, and it wouldn’t be until I’d crushed her. I wasn’t setting out to break her, but that was what I inevitably did.
She looked up at me again, her ocean blue eyes sparkling as she gave me a small smile. I smiled back. Couldn’t help it. With her, I’d never be able to help myself. I’d have to fight what I wanted and for once in my life, do the right thing.
Viv
More than two hours later, Alan gave us both a gruff thank you as he was being wheeled into an exam room. I led the way outside the Emergency Room doors and took in a deep breath of fresher than inside the ER air. Then I looked over at Kane with an apology in my eyes.
“We missed dinner,” I said.
He nodded.
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“Maybe we can get some pizza after all?”
“Yeah. I’d like that.”
He texted Len, holding my hand as we waited for him to arrive.
“I should’ve called Len to bring us here,” he said.
“I didn’t mean for you to pay for the cab ride. I was planning to get that.”
Kane shook his head. “Not because of that. I just wasn’t thinking. I don’t want you to think I’m too shitty to take a homeless person somewhere in the club car. I mean, I never have, but . . . I wou
ld.”
“I know that.”
He exhaled deeply, the cloud in front of his mouth dissipating. “I don’t know. I think I would. I guess I’m not the kind of person who’d take anyone somewhere for nothing.” He looked down at me and squeezed my hand. “I’m not like you. Not good.”
“Sure you are. Goodness takes many forms.”
He looked ready to continue arguing when the Town Car pulled into view, ending our conversation.
Thirty minutes later, we were tucked into a corner booth at a small family-owned pizza joint, waiting for our Supreme with extra cheese to arrive.
“What’s your first name?” I asked.
He paused for a second before answering. “Matthew.”
“No one calls you that, though.”
He shook his head. “My mom and grandma used to, but that’s about it.”
“Do you have family nearby?”
His gaze left mine, flickering down to the table. “My dad took off when I was a kid. Haven’t seen him since. Mom died from cancer when I was twenty-six.”
“I’m sorry.”
He shrugged a shoulder but said nothing.
“Any brothers and sisters?”
“None I know of. But given my dad’s nature, I wouldn’t be surprised if he left other women high and dry with kids like he did my mom.”
His dark eyes were steely now, his voice edged with bitterness. This was a bad subject.
“How many tattoos do you have?” I asked, reaching for another piece of bread.
A smile touched his lips as he considered. “Five.”
“Is there a story behind all of them?”
“Well, yeah. I’ll tell you the stories when you see ‘em.” His grin held interest and mischief. Seeing this side of him made my stomach flutter nervously.
“Where are the ones I can’t see?”
“My back and chest. One on my lower hip.”
I sucked in a breath as I thought about him unfastening his worn jeans and lowering them enough for me to see that hip tattoo. And more.
“So the one I can see . . .” I pointed at his arm, which had ink swirling from beneath the sleeve of his black t-shirt down to his elbow. “Tell me about that one.”
His cheeks darkened slightly and he smiled. “That one’s nothin’ to be proud of. I was in my early twenties and was wasted one night. A couple of my buddies and I went into a place and told the guy we wanted some ink. I passed out not long after he started.”
Barely Breathing Page 6
