Page 46 of Bully

And now we were at Prism, and I was watching her in the main lounge and bar area, working the crowd of girls hired and vetted to open Prism at the grand opening night in one week. For a while, I doubted we would have a lineup of girls worthy and capable of working with the elite customers who were already buying memberships faster than my assistant could process the paperwork. But one week out, we had a completed roster, with their trusted Ember back at the head of the crowd, settling the last details about roles, responsibilities and expectations.

I didn’t even need to host the party I threatened them with at the beginning, hoping to light a fire under their asses to prove they wanted a spot at my club. They had all buckled down and worked for their position on the list.

Things felt—right. They felt good. Which should have been my first sign that they were going to go wrong, because I had nothing good in my life.

My phone vibrated in my pocket, and I opened the message, reading through the details of the job I took from the cocaine dealer that Sloane had been working for the other night. The man traded her for one job with me.

I got my side of the deal, and it was time for me to pay up. It wasn’t as if I wasn’t capable of the gig, or even excited by the hunt. But there was something I wanted to do with my evening that didn’t include killing drug dealers.

It included tormenting Sloane. It included fucking her as she dug her sharp claws into me again, leaving more marks over my already flared skin.

But again, I didn’t get what I wanted most times.

“Is that your booty call for the night?” Sloane asked as she walked around me, glancing down at my phone before I locked it and put it back in my pocket.

“I didn’t realize you texted me.” I chided, staring her down, “Does that mean you’ve finally unblocked me.”

She snorted, turning away from the dozens of prying eyes actively trying to watch us interact like we were on a dirty daytime television show. “Not a chance.”

“Then no, it wasn’t my booty call.” I replied, avoiding actually answering the question. “I have to leave. Can you handle the rest of this?”

Her eyes rounded dramatically, “You mean I get to pretend I’m actually the manager?”

Now it was my turn to reply dramatically, “Only if you actually bother to show up from now on.”

“Whatever. I can handle it.”

“Good. I’ll see you tomorrow morning for scheduling.” I stated, reminding her of our meeting to set up the roster with rooms and clients that were already requesting pre-booking. It was at ten am, which I knew Sloane hated because it was before the time she normally rolled out of bed, but she’d be there.

She was too interested in scheduling the stage acts to let me do it on my own. It was her baby, after all.

“Yeah, I know, boss.” She droned on as I backed up and then gave me a salute. “Have fun on your date tonight. Can’t wait to hear everything about her.”

“Him, actually.” I threw back and her eyebrows rose. “Though I’m sure the details of our evening together won’t be your cup of tea.”

I left the lounge, reveling in the shocked expression on her face as I walked away, knowing that insignificant victory would stick with me for the rest of the night. I was going to need it too, because my night was about to go to shit.

Chapter 20 – Sloane

Ilookedatmywatchagain, for the twentieth time since getting to Prism for my ten o’clock meeting with Tamen. Arriving twenty minutes late, fueled by spite for the ungodly meeting time, I found his new office—his proper office, not just a table in a room—empty.

The only place I didn’t search for him was the room I was forbidden to enter; my stage room. He kept that entire room a secret, which annoyed me, but if I was honest, it also excited me slightly.

No one ever surprised me with anything, let alone a whole grand theater designed for me to work from. Or at least that was my hope; knowing Tamen though, he probably purposefully designed the entire space so I would hate it. He loved irritating me for fun.

Which was why he was running late to his own meeting, I was sure. Just to irritate me and exert his dominance over me.

But as the clock neared eleven, I wondered if there was something else keeping him away. Last night before he left Prism early, he had a message on his phone, and it wasn’t as if he looked overly happy about it. He didn’t even rise to the occasion to tease me back when I embarrassingly pried for information about his plans for the evening. Which was very un-Tamen-like.

I paced his office, avoiding the hordes of construction crew members finishing up last-minute projects and continued to catastrophize all the scenarios possible for keeping him away. Rubbing my hands together and then wiping the sweat onto my jeans, I gave into the worry and did something I swore I’d never do.

I unblocked him.

And then I dialed his phone number.

Chewing on my thumbnail as the phone rang and rang, my heart sank further with each trill through the line. And then his voicemail picked up.

“Fuck.” I hissed, grabbing my purse off his desk and walking out as the recording started. “If you’re fucking with me right now Tamen, I quit. If you’re not, you’d better be dead for making me worry. I’m on my way to your hotel.”

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