Page 8 of Velvet Sin (Elite Men of Los Angeles #5)

I snickered before I could help myself. “So long as there are gamblers throwing money at casinos, accountants will have plenty of clients.” Cameron had nothing to worry about. He had it made. Inheriting his dad’s business, living it up while his employees did the actual work.

Eyeing my left hand, he observed, “No ring. Divorced?”

I should’ve said no. I should’ve slapped him and walked out no matter who was watching, no matter what he thought. What the hell did it matter?

The food’s arrival pinned me in place. Hunger twisted my insides, and the packet of instant noodles at home was nothing compared to the array of dishes being placed in front of us—creamed spinach, stuffed twice-baked potatoes, macaroni and cheese, followed by the presentation of two juicy steaks.

This was how far I had fallen. Submitting to his bullshit in exchange for a meal.

A few bites of beef gave me the strength I needed to face up to the truth.

“Yes, to answer your question. We’ve been divorced these past three months.

You’re not the only man in my life who decided to go behind my back, as it turns out.

Maybe the two of you should start a club.

” I couldn’t believe the sound of my own voice, much less the words that were coming from it. This wasn’t me.

But God, did it feel good, especially when something close to pain or regret touched the corners of his eyes.

It vanished quickly enough that I wondered if I was imagining things.

Was it what I needed to believe I saw? “Go on. Eat,” he urged, flat and no-nonsense.

“There’s no way I can eat all of this by myself. ”

What did I expect? An apology? I should’ve known better. Was that what the meal was supposed to be about? Sorry I took your entire vision for your future and turned it all to shit. Here, have some spinach.

“So now you need a job,” he concluded.

“And now I see why you’re so successful in business, as sharp as you are,” I countered sourly, the taste bitter.

“Here I was about to offer you one.”

A bite of beef almost got stuck in my throat when surprise made me gasp. I managed not to choke to death, then let out a disbelieving laugh. “Right. What would you have me do in your new club? Pour drinks? Check IDs at the door?”

He lifted a shoulder while cutting into his steak. “The latter, actually, though a little more goes into the job than checking identification. You would process membership accounts, create new accounts, ensure my clientele is happy and safe.”

Safe? “Why would their safety be in question?”

“Not for any reason you might be thinking,” he assured me with something like a smirk. I hated him for it. The idea of sinking my steak knife into his jugular was a little too appealing.

Instead, I used it on my steak, which was rich, buttery, and almost enough to justify this whole disaster. “That’s not an answer, you know.”

“It’s a lot to get into all at once,” he explained.

When I scoffed, he didn’t rise to the bait, staying cool and collected while polishing off the last of the creamed spinach.

“You can work for me and make a lot of money, or you can keep embarrassing yourself by going up and down the strip, looking for jobs. You haven’t worked all these years, have you? Don’t bother lying.”

Like he had the right to lecture me. I sat up straighter while reconsidering the whole steak-knife idea. “What do you know about lying and truth? This is the first time we’ve spoken in a decade.”

“I remember enough about your ex to know you haven’t worked. Just like his mom didn’t work unless getting facelifts and liposuction is suddenly a full-time job. I guess she could have qualified for that,” he concluded, snickering.

There were times I forgot how well the three of us used to know each other when Dante was supposed to be my future, and Cameron was nothing more than a friend with a crush on me.

I couldn’t let myself forget how vulnerable I was in the months after catching Dante with another girl, but now I remembered clearly the way Cameron was there for me.

Funny how what seemed like friendship at the time now looked like opportunism.

“So?” I countered, defiant. “It’s true. I haven’t worked outside the home. In fact, I never used my degree.”

His brow wrinkled. “It’s tough out there, finding work, and that’s for people with more recent experience.”

“Are you enjoying this?”

“Not at all.” The almost mocking note in his voice vanished as he set down his cutlery and pushed the plate aside. “You’re in a shit situation, and I’m in a position to offer assistance. This meal isn’t going to last very long,” he pointed out. “You’ll be hungry again tomorrow. Then what?”

I looked down at my almost empty plate and the empty serving dishes left behind after we had demolished the sides. He made a good point.

“Here.” Reaching into his breast pocket, he retrieved a black business card with only his name and a phone number etched in silver on the front.

“The club opens tomorrow night. I still have room for you on my staff. Call me when your pride gets out of the way, but make sure that happens by the end of the night because the position won’t be available come morning. ”

He was serious. Shock made me reach out to take the card. My body was moving with no help from my brain.

It wasn’t easy to suppress a shiver once we brushed fingers as he handed the card over. “I don’t know about this,” I admitted. “I don’t have any experience?—”

“Let me tell you one thing.” His jaw tightened and eyes narrowed, and suddenly, I was facing the Dante West, who had somehow earned enough money to afford a suit like the one he was wearing and a meal like the one we’d just finished.

“When it comes to staffing, I don’t fuck around.

I take it very seriously, in fact, as I do every aspect of my business.

If I think you can handle the job, that’s all you need to know.

But like I said, you have until the end of the night to make up your mind. ”

There was something about the intensity of his gaze that made it very important to get the hell out of my chair and out of the restaurant. It wasn’t that he made me uneasy. It was my reaction that left me feeling unbalanced, confused, breathless, and vulnerable.

And I was supposed to see him every day, no matter how much he offered to pay? No way was this going to work. “I’ll let you know. Thank you so much for dinner, really. It was delicious.”

“You aren’t leaving like this.” He started to stand, but it was too late. I was already rushing for the door, desperate for fresh air. What was it about the men in my life showing up at my most vulnerable moment when there was no telling how I would react?

At least he had the decency not to follow me, and I spent the drive back to my apartment in peace—externally, anyway. Inside was a different story.

I needed the job. It didn’t have to be forever.

But it meant working for him, and I hated him. For making a fool of me, for betraying my trust. For not bothering to explain himself when I asked, miserable and defeated, why? Why would he sleep with somebody else when we were supposed to be each other’s future?

Hell, if he were going to break my heart, he should’ve at least had the decency to be miserable.

Nothing could’ve been further from the truth.

He was a man sitting on top of the world, probably remembering the way I’d questioned him, wondering how he could go through life without any ambition or even the most basic plan.

Now, he wanted to rub it in my face. That was the only explanation that made any sense by the time I pulled into the parking garage of my new home.

Cameron gave me no choice but to walk away once he had a friend at the bank place an encumbrance on the house, meaning it wasn’t technically in our names and couldn’t be argued over in the divorce.

The grim, outdated apartment building was about as far a cry as possible from what I’d left behind.

It sat miles from the strip, so far from the twinkling lights they were nothing more than a mirage on the horizon.

A futon served as my bed, where I flopped onto my back out of sheer exhaustion after kicking off my heels.

I couldn’t live like this for much longer. Not that I needed luxury, but something a little more comfortable than an IKEA futon would be nice. Maybe an apartment bigger than one room and a refrigerator with more than a tiny bit of milk and a few slices of American cheese inside.

And bills.

Lots and lots of bills.

The payment plan with my divorce attorney.

The lights, the water, the phone and internet.

I didn’t even have anywhere to put all the things I’d packed up in boxes, now stored wherever I could find space in my shoebox of a home.

Two of those boxes served as a coffee table.

For God’s sake, I deserved better than this.

Temporary.

I would only have to process accounts or whatever Dante said.

A way to start pulling my life back together. That was all.

Temporary.

The word echoed in my mind as I dialed the number on the card. He didn’t keep me waiting. “I’ll text you the address and time to be here tomorrow night,” he announced by way of greeting.

“You don’t know what I was calling to say.”

“If your answer was no, you wouldn’t have called.” Dammit. He had a point. “See you tomorrow night, Lenny.”

“It’s not Len—” Three soft beeps told me he wouldn’t hear me correct him once again.

Son of a bitch.

He had the edge on me in every way imaginable.