Page 11 of Dancing with the Devil
My eyes grew wide and my head snapped to him.Last night…
“You were the man who…No. Forget it,” I said, making his smirk vanish. “I thought I made myself clear yesterday. I didn’t ask for your help.”
“If you don’t thank me, I’m going to have to go and tell your father what you’ve been up to,” he shrugged his shoulders and I narrowed my eyes at him. He didn’t seem like the tattle tale type. I could tell he simply wanted another brick added to his already ginormous tower of an ego.
“I’m a grown woman. My father doesn’t dictate my career choices.”
“Well then…” he trailed off and took a step back, allowing cold air to settle between us. He turned around and said, “I’m sure your father would be thrilled to hear about theamazingchoices his daughter makes—”
“No!” I cut him off way too quickly for my liking. He stopped walking and I sighed.Asshole. “You would do anything to satisfy your ego, wouldn’t you?”
He turned around to face me, crossing his arms over his chest. “Yes.”
A faint groan left my lips and I swallowed my pride. “I guess… I could learn to be thankful for what you did.”
I noticed his tongue rub the inside of his cheek. There was momentary silence as he stared at me with a look of interest.
“You’re really good at what you do,” he nodded his head toward the pole.
“Yeah, well, I kind of gathered that from all the men throwing hundred dollar bills at my eight inch heels,” I sarcastically smiled and he scoffed.
I heard my dad’s car pull up and my body tensed as I looked out my window. I heard footsteps receding and my head shot to the stranger that had just left.
“You’re keeping my secret, right!” I called out but no response.Dammit.
CHAPTER 3
Nirah
EVEN AT SIX thirty in the morning, the city was buzzing with people, cars, and even pets.
As my boots clicked against the sidewalk, the memory of last night crept into my mind, causing a shiver to race down my spine. The hairs on the back of my neck rose as I looked over my shoulder. I increased my pace just a little, and before I knew it, I was standing in front of the double glass doors that opened up to my favorite cozy cafe.
Jordan popped up behind the register across the entrance, and I smiled.
I’m always the first one at the cafe but on nights I get home late, Jordan lets me know that I can sleep in for an extra hour and he’ll open the cafe.
He is the only person in my life who knows about my job at the club. He never judged me. Instead, he asked if I needed a bodyguardorsomething. It made me feel even more comfortable around him.
On nights I finished after twelve in the morning, he’d be waiting to pick me up.
Jordan is 6’1—or 6’2 like he always likes arguing with me—and muscle. He used to play basketball until he got injured and couldn’t play anymore. He’s filthy rich but claims that if he didn’t get a job,anyjob, he’d go crazy. So, instead of finding a job, he simply opened up a cafe.
I grabbed the cold metal handle, pushing one of the doors open, and the tiny bell above my head rang. Jordan’s head snapped up automatically as he uttered the words, “We’re not open yet.”
I feigned innocence with a smile as I approached the register, slowly pulling my scarf from my neck.
“What are you doing here?” he narrowed his hazel eyes at me in suspicion.
“I felt bad okay,” I admitted, leaning my forearms onto the countertop. “I can’t let you do this anymore. It’s not fair to you, plus I—” he cut me off by pressing the bottom of a white foam cup to my lips.
“Yes, you can,” he said, and I chuckled, lightly hitting the cup away from my mouth. “It’s really no use fighting me on this.” He’s right. He’ll end up doing what he wants anyway.
“And, since you suck at following orders, you get to enjoy a coffee until seven thirty, which was when you weresupposedto be here.”
“Yeah right,” I laughed, shrugging off my jacket as I walked to the back.
I grabbed my brown waist apron and tightly tied it behind my back. I helped Jordan set up the chairs, and then we got the machines started. Soon, the other employees arrived.
