Page 17 of Dirty Intentions

CHAPTER NINE

Daniella

My neck and back were killing me. I’d spent the last ten hours combing through Club Travesty’s tax returns and looking at the books. The man kept meticulous notes; I’d give him that. But the sound of my stomach growling had me checking the time. Shit. It was past six o’clock. Where the hell was Shane? After his abrupt exit, he hadn’t come back.

Just as well. Once I got into numbers, it was tough for me to get out. But I felt like I had a firm start. Tomorrow I’d start to lay out my questions for him. Since I hadn’t found anything obvious missing from his returns, I would need to audit his expenditures. Auditing was normally something I’d have an on-staff auditor do. But considering the nature of this club and maybe something I didn’t want to admit—me wanting to spend more time with Shane—I wasn’t about to pass off the assignment to someone else.

After rolling my neck, I grudgingly put on my heels again. About five hours ago, I’d kicked them off. In search of Shane or food or maybe both, I took the front stairs down into the club.

“Wait, Miss.” Lance, the man whose job I’d saved, intercepted me once I was on the main floor. Taking my arm, he led me behind the bar.

“You can’t go out onto the main floor or into the bar without a mask. Unless you want to chance being recognized.”

Huh. It hadn’t even crossed my mind. Grateful for his quick thinking, I smiled. “Thank you. I don’t suppose someone has one I could borrow.”

He looked awkward. “Uh, it would be easier if you went out the back towards the employee entrance.”

“Oh. I was hoping you could tell me a good place to eat around here?”

“The bar has great food. Most of the staff eats from their menu. Let me show you to the employee break room where you can place an order.”

Because he was here and I felt bad I’d almost gotten him fired, I decided to say something. “By the way. I’m sorry about the other night. I never meant—”

He cut me off with a rare smile. “It’s already forgotten, Ms. Trivioli.”

***

I waited on my chef salad, trying my best not to gawk at the other people in the room. Most of them were gorgeous. The women, especially, were all made up and wore very little by way of clothing. Two of them were seated to my left, and I couldn’t help overhearing.

“You’re so lucky you’re performing with Shane tomorrow night.”

The blonde sighed. “More like he’s performing with Heather, and I’m just along for the ride. But I’m hoping he’ll let me suck that big cock of his.”

I could feel my neck getting red. Jealousy wasn’t an emotion with which I was familiar. Not even watching my fiancé last night have sex with other people had elicited such a response. Yet the thought of Shane with another woman was provoking a completely irrational dose of it. I shook off the crazy thought, grabbed my salad, and started to walk back upstairs. But not before snagging a menu of services.

I told myself I wanted to study the club’s menu in order to follow the revenue streams more easily, but I found myself completely enthralled with the descriptions of the services offered.

As I ate my dinner, I realized I had never felt lonelier. Or more sexually frustrated. Not a great combination. Maybe it was time for a change.

***

Shane

I’d stayed away from Daniella yesterday evening. Pure self-preservation. The quick answer to my problem would be to fuck her brains out and get her out of my system. But there was no way I was crossing that line. Women like her belonged in the suburbs with a white picket fence, minivan, and Pinterest habit. Not in a sex club. So why had I ensured she came back?

The question wouldn’t leave my mind as I walked into my spacious loft office early the next morning. She was already at my desk, working. I immediately noticed the dark circles under her eyes and wondered about the cause.

“Good morning. Merry Christmas Eve,” she greeted casually.

“’Morning. And, uh, Merry Christmas. How did you sleep?”

She appeared startled by my question but sighed when she lifted her gaze to mine. “Not great, honestly.”

“Was the bed not comfortable?”

“No, it wasn’t that. Maybe it’s the holidays. Do you have plans with family?”

I didn’t like the reminder. “No. We’ll be open tonight and tomorrow. But you’re welcome to take tomorrow off if you want to spend the day with yours.”

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