Page 101 of Theirs to Desire (Club M: Boxed Set)

KIERA

E veryone on the club floor seems to want a drink. For thirty minutes, I drown in activity, pouring beer, mixing cocktails, rushing from one well-dressed customer to another.

Finally, the rush dies away, and I inch next to Farid. “Who is he?” I ask.

Farid gives me a blank look. “Who is who?”

“The guy at the bar earlier, the one talking to Caleb.”

He gives me an amused look. “Caleb, huh? Not Mr. Reeves?”

My cheeks heat. “He keeps asking me to call him that. So, who’s the guy?

I’ve never seen him here before. Is he a new member?

” Farid’s been working here forever. He knows everyone and everything.

In a club where most of the men scream of power and dominance, Farid, with his tousled, curly hair and friendly smile stands out as a non-threatening presence.

It works for him. I swear he’s been propositioned by every female member in the club. Some men too.

Farid’s smarter than me. He never crosses the line. He doesn’t even tiptoe to the edge. Members are, to him, an alien, forbidden species. Unlike me, he doesn’t waste his time entertaining useless fantasies about well-dressed, billionaires who enjoy games.

“Nolan Wolanski,” he replies. “No, he’s not a new member, he’s been here from the start. He’s good friends with Mr. Leforte. He doesn’t come around very often. Did he make a pass at you?”

I wish. “Just some subtle innuendo. Nothing creepy. Why, is he married?” I really hope not, though I know it happens. I’m in a sex club. I’ve seen everything.

Farid chuckles. “You have no idea who he is, do you? No, Nolan Wolanski isn’t married. He’s loaded, he’s good-looking, and he’s single.”

“What does he do?”

“Nothing, Kiera. He’s a billionaire. Family money, lots of it.

He doesn’t need to work. He owns stuff. An investment bank, a castle in Scotland, a villa on the banks of Lake Como.

As far as I know, he bums around the world, and gets photographed with models and actresses.

” He gives me a kind smile. “Billionaires. They’re not like us. ”

He’s warning me away, but it’s not necessary. I’m a bartender. I make decent money at Club M, but I’m working class, through and through. I already know that the members here are out of my league.

A trio of men walk up to the bar, and I paste a smile on my face. Time to put Caleb Reeves and Nolan Wolanski out of my mind.

Kellie takes over for me at midnight. Sighing in relief, I head upstairs to the break room and change into my regular clothes, shorts and a t-shirt.

We’re in the grip of a hot, humid spell.

Inside the club, the central air is working overtime, but if today’s like every other day this week, the moment I step outside, I’m going to be drenched in sweat.

Amy, one of the club floor monitors, is in the corridor outside the break room. She takes in my attire. “No air conditioning in your car?”

I shake my head. “The mechanic said it’d cost a thousand bucks to fix. Even worse, my window AC broke. My apartment is a sauna.”

“Ouch,” she says sympathetically. “The Walmart sells window units.”

I make a face. “I called around. Every store in a hundred-mile radius is sold out. Ah well. Such is life. You working tomorrow?”

She nods. “Yeah, an eight-hour shift. You?”

I pick up all the extra shifts I can, not just at the bar, but also at the restaurant, and I save every bit of money I get. It’s the smart thing to do when you need to be prepared to run at a moment’s notice.

Tomorrow though, I’m only working the bar. “Just the evening. I’m going to the community pool in the morning, hopefully, before it gets too crowded. I’ve got my swimsuit in my car and everything.”

“Good call. See you tomorrow.”

I wave to Amy and head toward the rear elevator. As I pass Xavier Leforte’s office, the door opens. “Kiera,” Caleb says. “Can you come in for a minute, please?”