Page 13 of Bully

“Love.” I chuckled, “And you find love at The Vixen’s Den?”

She rolled her eyes and shook her head. “No. And that’s the point. I don’t want any of that. I don’t want to be tricked by the illusion of it. So I went to the most unlikely place I’d find it.” I opened my mouth to dig deeper into her mind but she cut me off, “Anything else?”

I held back the urge to continue and let her go. Something told me Sloane was a runner, avoiding the real shit life could offer her. Maybe there was some truth to her tale about growing up in a lie. Perhaps she was running from something, but it wasn’t the tragic life I imagined. Maybe it was just bland. “Report to the building tomorrow at two with the designs.”

“Yes, Sir.” She snidely replied, pulling her jacket on and tying it around her waist aggressively.

I silently watched her grab her things and head toward the elevator bay when I gave in to my desire to have the last word. Walking to the foyer entrance, she glanced at me out of the corner of her eye while she waited for the elevator, which thankfully dinged with its arrival quickly.

And that was when I hooked her.

“Sloane.” I called, and she paused inside of the elevator with the doors wide open. “I’m doubling the size of your stage room. Start planning talent for it.” Her eyes widened and her lips parted with excitement; so of course I had to remind her who the boss was. “Show up late again and you’ll lose the entire thing. I’ll put a cigar room in the middle of the building just to piss you off.”

The doors slid closed as anger brewed on her face, encapsulating her inside before she could reply fully, though I heard the whisper of her voice as they shut, “Cocksucker.”

I tossed back the liquor in my glass and walked through the obnoxiously large penthouse to my room on the other side of it, grinning.

She was going to look so fucking good on that stage when I was done building it for her. Too bad I’d dangle it in front of her like a carrot until the grand opening just to spite her.

Chapter 6 – Sloane

Inaway,Iknew Vixen’s Den would be changing, which was a good thing, because it was as outdated as Tony’s favorite cologne. However, walking through the front door and finding all the walls ripped out and bare wooden studs left in their wake was a shock.

Everything was gone, reduced to a pile of splintered wood and scattered plaster, although the renovation had begun the previous day. Work done that fast had to be expensive, how rich was Tamen Bryce?

Jesus, how out of my league was I against the man? We were two different classes of human beings, him a probable millionaire, and me a hooker. I was a high-class hooker, but a hooker, nonetheless.

No wonder Tony had sold him the Den out from under me, I never would have been able to afford the changes he was making.

Suddenly the jeans and low-cut shirt I was wearing made me feel far, far beneath my new boss. Which didn’t set right in my gut. I never let someone make me feel beneath them.

“You can’t be in here.” A gruff Boston accent called out, drawing my attention from where I stood in what used to be the lobby area, but there was now one giant open space connecting the lounge, kitchen, and first floor bathrooms. Everything was gone. The man walking toward me wore a polo shirt and dirty jeans, yet judging by the size of his pop-belly, he didn’t actually make a habit out of working.

Supervisor.

“I’m here to see—” I started, adjusting my bag on my shoulder to face him when he snapped his fingers at me, as he neared me.

“Are you deaf?” He bit out, “You can’t be here, this is a construction zone.”

“I did hear you.” I replied, taking a deep breath to keep from clapping back at the middle age sack of toxic masculinity as he sneered at me. “You didn’t hear me. I’m here for a meeting with—”

“I don’t care!” He roared, wrapping his clammy beefy hand around my arm and pulled me off balance as he started walking back toward the door, dragging me with him. “Get out!”

“Take your hands off of her, immediately.” A brisk English voice cut through the noise of the building, making the slob manhandling me pause.

“She’s not wearing the proper safety gear.” Grease stain Stan argued, tightening his hand on my arm when I tried to get free.

I felt Tamen’s presence behind me even without turning to see him getting closer, simply because everyone else stopped to stare up at the man, announcing his presence. “Let go of me.” I demanded, pulling my arm again but only received a deeper bruise to my bicep in the process when Meatball Mike tightened it once again.

“You’re fired.” Tamen barked, stepping around me and with a flick of his wrist, Lazy Lyle bellowed out in pain as his own wrist made a cracking sound, and then my arm was free. “Get the fuck off my job site.”

“You son of a bitch!” The red-faced supervisor yelled, cradling his arm to his chest as he sputtered and spit in anger. “You can’t fire me! There are rules we have to follow. Fuck, my arm!”

“Are you an OSHA officer, Mike?” Tamen bit back coolly. “I’d wager that you’re not, or your men wouldn’t be walking around with their own stupid violations so plainly visible.” He reached for the shaking man where he stood sputtering in indignation, obviously not used to being out-manned by someone so publicly before. “Because I can see no less than five different violations standing and staring at me currently amongst your crew of dropouts and degenerates. If you’d like, I’ll start naming them off and you can take them home with you when you go.” Tamen put his hands on his hips and turned to stare out over the frozen crew of men watching the scene unfold. “Who’s next in charge under Mike?”

No one moved at first, but eventually a man raised his hand where he stood with a roll of blueprints under his arm. “Guess that’s me.”

“What’s your name?” Tamen asked.

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