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I open the door to find him standing there in all his glory—shirt open, thick gold chain barely visible in the mat of dark hair on his chest. As if holding onto my breakfast isn’t hard enough.
“What is it?”
“I have a VIP coming this evening. I want you to look your best. And you’d better behave. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you what will happen if I’m not happy with your performance.”
“Yes, you’ve made it perfectly clear,” is all I can say. My response is much too polite for the likes of him, but I’m trying to be smart here.
“Good.”
A VIP. Wonderful. Translation, scum with more money than the rest.
Paolo ogles me briefly before he turns and walks away. Thank God he hasn’t tried anything with me. Not yet, anyway. I pray that it stays that way. I’m not sure why, but Paolo treats me just a tad better than he does the rest of the women here. Does my new boss know who I am? I get the feeling he knows about my connection with Lucas. It would explain a lot.
Lucas. Oh, where are you? This is exactly the kind of consequence I’ve dreaded from the start. I should have listened to that little voice urging me to stay the hell away from Lucas and his gangster lifestyle. Now, here I am, pregnant and destitute!
There must be a way to get my hands on a phone. Prisoners do it every day, so why is it so hard for me? The girl with the shiner seems to be the one in the group with the most street smarts. Surely she can help me. I just have to figure out how I can get to talk to her privately without Paolo’s meatheads reporting back to their boss.
I’ll talk to the girl tonight. Hopefully, she won’t rat me out. It’s a chance I have to take. This is no life for me and my baby.
* * *
I’m in a large private room at the club, waiting for the VIP. The meatheads are outside, watching the door. I’ve been hoping to bump into the young stripper all day, but she’s nowhere to be found. I have to talk to her.
The door opens, and in slinks Paolo, followed by a tall man dressed immaculately. He carries himself as if he's somebody, and I can tell by the way Paolo is kissing his ass that the VIP has the upper hand.
“This is the woman,” Paolo says in a muted tone, barely audible, but I manage to catch it.
The tall man looks me over and nods at Paolo, who takes his cue and leaves. Now I’m alone with the stranger, and I’m nervous. What does he want from me?
He checks me out before he sits down. I wish he would say something. His stare is disconcerting as hell. The man has the coldest eyes I’ve ever seen.
“So, you’re Emily Thornton,” he says slowly in a deep, gruff voice.
What? How does he know my name?
I’m too shaken to answer.
“I heard you were a stunner.”
What does he want?
“We have a mutual acquaintance,” he says in a manner that makes my skin crawl.
I hold my tongue.
“Can you guess?”
Is this man talking about Damon? He doesn’t seem like the type who would hang around with lowly drivers. But who else could he mean?
Come on, Emily. You’re a clever girl. Can’t you guess?
“Lucas?”
“Very good. Beautiful and smart.”
“Who are you?”
“My friends call me Vince.”