Page 2 of Allured (Love and Burlesque #1)

CHAPTER TWO

ALEK

Daddy, chill.

“ I don’t have the time for this, Jack,” a deep voice scolds as I make my way down the dark hallway leading to Knight’s office. Well, more like the office Knight commandeered with his surprise arrival to the club today. Though, technically this is all his.

That deep voice is usually scolding me so it’s kind of nice to not be at the receiving end of the curt words.

“It’s absurd Harriett has to cancel the gala because her chemical face peel did its job too well. It’s even more absurd that she expects me to rearrange what took her months to plan in a matter of four days.”

I lean against the doorway, watching the frustrated way Knight rubs down the side of his face, his thick fingers lightly digging into his heavy five o’clock shadow. His profile is front and center as he sits upright in the office chair, his charcoal gray suit partly hidden behind the messy desk full of show schedules and promotional items. I can tell his eyes are closed. Otherwise, he would have seen me leaning against the doorframe out of the corner of his eye.

“Fine,” he sighs. “We will hold it at my estate and go along with her lie of being sick. I’ll arrange the larger details but I will need you to send the word out to the invite list. Also, please contact my sick mother and tell her I’m regretting this already.” With finality in his tone, he hangs up the phone and sets it on the desk.

“Got an extra invite? I hear rich people’s parties, oh sorry– galas – have the best booze.”

“Must you always sneak around like that?” he asks with a heavy sigh, still not looking at me.

“I’m light on my feet, you kinda pay me for that. My twinkle toes.” I let out an easy chuckle as I walk over to one of the empty chairs in front of the man at the desk. While he’s still frustrated by the phone call from Hell, he seems a little more relaxed in my presence. Finally, he turns to face me as he unbuttons the top of his undoubtedly expensive dress shirt. The slight look of relief when he looks at me would make me feel special but it’s probably because I’m not pushing some gala on him like his mother just did.

“I need your help,” he says with a wince, like it pains him to ask. Knight is a man who enjoys taking charge and lives with a tight schedule. In the time that I’ve known the guy, I swear he’s never done anything spontaneous or last minute.

“And what would Daddy Knight like me to do?” There’s a grin on my face as I ask him the question. I’m definitely teasing him but I’m thinking this is the light—heartened vibe he needs right now.

“Again with the nickname?” He arches an eyebrow at me. Honestly, Knight pretends to hate the title but this man forgets that I know some of his secrets too. He shakes his head, resting his elbow on the desk before he leans into his large open hand and taps his finger against his temple with a steady rhythm.

“Look Aleksander, since you were creeping in on my conversation, I’m sure you heard my predicament.” He glares at me. If I were anyone else I’d be frozen in fear or even running out of his office, but Knight’s armor has never scared me.

“I need a chef for the gala Saturday night. We both know that you’re a talented cook and you’re one of the only people I trust to get this done correctly, even with all of your antics.”

It wouldn’t be a true Knight compliment if there wasn’t a bit of criticism in there. Still, my eyes light up as he explains the help he needs. I fucking love cooking. I swear if I wasn’t dancing, I’d be competing head—to—head in some reality TV cooking shows.

Knight goes on about how the original chef his mom had hired wasn’t willing to make the two hour trip to his place instead. His estate instead of his mother’s mansion. He let me know there would only be about thirty people in attendance and I had full control of the menu with the exception of a couple of food allergy restrictions.

I’ve got to admit, the whole time he was explaining things I was trying to figure out what the Hell the difference between an estate and a mansion was. I still hadn’t come up with the answer by the time he hit me with his last question.

“Am I assured I can count on you, Aleksander?”

“Yeah, I’ve got you.” A genuine smile stretches across my lips. I can do this for him and I’d like him to know I’m taking it seriously. He may not think it sometimes, but I actually do care for this man.

“Let me know when you think it would be best to go shopping and I can either have someone grab the items–”

“Actually, I’d like to do the shopping myself. I wanna make sure to pick out the best stuff,” I interject. It’s something I’m picky about. If I’m cooking I’d like to choose everything down to the type of salt I’m using.

There's a little pride showing through his businessman mask. I know he appreciates how thorough I like to be, ever since I helped him design the club.

“Why am I not surprised? Take this, then.”

The guy reaches into his freaking breast pocket . You know someone is loaded when they keep their wallet there instead of in the back pocket of some worn—out Wranglers. I feel like I’m some peasant compared to his lordship.

With quick precision, he takes a black card out from his wallet. Meeting my eyes again, he slides it over the desk. “And I’ll have my assistant email you a copy of the dietary requirements for some of our guests.”

“Sounds good. See you Saturday morning, then? You mind me showing up early to prep?” I ask as I get up from my chair and lean over the desk, meeting his stare with one of my own.

“Of course. I will make sure Ernest knows of your arrival and that you’re not just some vagrant passing by.”

Ernest is his head of security and I swear I get the stank—eye from him any time I’m over. It’s been a freaking decade. Surely, the guy knows me by now but he still makes getting into Knight’s place like getting through the TSA.

Taking the card, I clutch it to my chest like he took a shot to my heart, dramatically stumbling as I start making my way towards the door. “You wound me.”

“Leave, now.” He’s reaching for his phone. I’m sure he’s got other fires to put out because of this surprise gala.

I wink as he begins to turn away and I fit his shiny black card between my index and middle finger. Oh damn, it’s embossed and everything.

Teasing him, I put my lips on the fancy card and blow him a kiss with it. “Thanks, Daddy!” I step backwards toward the door with a little wave of his credit card in goodbye.

“Stop calling me that.” The stoic man rolls his eyes in dismissal, but I know there’s no real threat in the command. If the man had any soft spots, I would be one of them.

“I’ve got your card, I’m gonna use your money– I think that’s the definition of a sugar daddy.” A soft chuckle escapes my lips at the same time he lets out a pained groan. I can’t see him as I’m walking out but I know he has at least a tiny smile on his face. Whatever kind of smile the bastard can muster, at least.

“Hey everyone, I’ve got a sugar daddy!” My voice bounces off the walls of the hallway as I walk away holding more money than I’ll ever see in my lifetime.