After a few long moments of hesitation, Nicki moved forward and did as he asked, though she remained perched on the edge of her seat, ready for immediate flight should it become necessary. Jason looked pointedly at the glass he’d set out for her and waited until she actually took a sip before continuing. As a general rule, she didn’t drink, and never while on the job, but a swallow or two of the high quality brandy might help her calm her frayed nerves a bit.
Nicki watched him carefully through guarded eyes, waiting for him to get down to it. It was a control thing, she knew. She’d dealt with enough men to know the ones who liked asserting their authority. At least Jason was fairly low-key about it.
While she waited for him to get to it, she took the opportunity to study him. They had only spoken twice before – once on the day she was hired, but that was more of a one-way interview than an actual conversation; she had been on stage auditioning and he’d been sitting in the dark, watching. The second time was earlier today when he spoke to her about Nick, but that meeting had been down in the bar prior to her shift in the midst of setup and in the presence of the bouncers. Now it was just the two of them in his office. Given the total lack of external noise, it was probably soundproofed.
The private space was not at all what she would have pictured for the owner of a gentleman’s club. Instead of garish colors and lewd art, there were neutral, soothing colors that tended toward darker browns and forest greens, and soft, ambient lighting. It looked professionally done. The polished cherry desk matched the small personal bar; the chairs were covered in comfortable and stylish sable leather. A few abstract prints brought some welcome splashes of color to the area, but even they tended toward the subtle. Overall, it was remarkably understated and simply done, yet very pleasant.
The man was just as surprising as his space. Young, well-built, attractive. With golden blonde hair that looked slightly tousled and rich, dark eyes, he looked more like the boy next door than a sin-merchant. It was no wonder half the female staff was infatuated with him.
She could see the appeal, but he wasn’t really her type – a little too all-American, too mainstream for her taste. Probably drove a BMW. Listened to classic rock. Vacationed at the beach. All good things, but not her style.
Not that she ever dated; she avoided that like the plague. But when she did allow herself to fantasize, the men were always a little darker, a little bigger, and little more dangerous and unpredictable. More like a certain hard-bodied bad boy with wickedness glowing in his crystal blue eyes and a cock the size of a ... ah, hell. So not going there.
Across the massive desk, Jason seemed to be searching for the right words. Clearly he had something to say and didn’t quite know how to say it. As attractive as he was to watch, Nicki was too tired to play games. She just wanted to go home and forgot this night ever happened.
“Am I fired?” she burst out.
He regarded her, his face interested but otherwise unreadable. “That was quite a show you put on tonight.” The words were spoken casually, but his eyes - a warm, chocolaty brown - revealed curiosity, and just maybe, amusement mixed with irritation.
Her eyes widened a bit. He had seen? Of course he had, she reprimanded herself; there were security monitors on the wall to the left of his desk. Nicki had the presence to drop her chin a hair when she responded.
“That is what you pay me for, isn’t it?”
Jason’s lips quirked slightly. He looked way too comfortable in that chair, as if he knew something she didn’t. She hated that feeling. It never boded well.
“Ah, an overachiever,” he chuckled. “Seems to me that was about more than money.” He raised the glass to his lips again, never taking his eyes from her.
“It’s supposed to. Seem like it, that is.”
The quirk turned into an outright smile. “So you’re a consummate professional, is that it? All about pleasing the customer?”
Nicki clenched her jaw, felt the heat rise in her cheeks. It was a wonder she didn’t crack a tooth applying that much force.
“Are you telling me that’s a bad thing?” she ground out defensively.
“In one of the private viewing areas? Hell no. But out there among the masses? Fuck yes.”
His eyes flashed to the monitors again. Hers followed. The place was still packed. She could see why that might be a cause for concern. Any other night and they’d be steadily filing out after the big finale, hopefully with smiles on their faces and their pockets a lot lighter than when they came in. But tonight there was a different kind of energy on the floor. The men were more wired than usual, overanxious.
Jason leaned forward slightly and pressed a button on the sleek-looking black box at the edge of the desk. “Ben? Inform the ladies that we’ll pay time and a half for anyone willing to stick around for another hour, but keep them on the stage. No more lap dances, no exceptions. And tell Security to keep their eyes open.”
After receiving a gruff acknowledgment, Jason turned his attention back to her. “Look. You’re a great dancer, Nicki, but I don’t need the hassles. First your brother goes Rambo on a customer - ”
“He was protecting me!” she interrupted.