His conscience was screaming at him, but Giovanni couldn’t let her go. “I could fire you. Dance with you and then rehire you,” he offered. And the offer was more sincere than he wanted to believe.
“I see. Part of your little game where you win money for treating women with disrespect? I don’t think so, Mr. Ferraro. You’re not that charming.” She leaned down, very close to his ear. “This is called sexual harassment.”
Before she could straighten, he caught her by the nape of her neck and turned his head to bring his mouth against her ear. “Baby,” he whispered, “clearly, you don’t know the first thing about sexual harassment, but I’d be more than happy to teach you.” Every word he formed had his lips brushing over her ear. So delicate. Her scent enveloped him, drove him wild. Temptation and sin were wrapped around this exotic creature, and he was falling over the edge fast. Where the fuck was security?
She straightened abruptly, quickly, as if he’d bit her, which he considered doing. The enticement had been so strong his teeth had snapped together, just missing her earlobe. A little shiver went through her body, telling him she was far from unaffected.
“Your tip, Sasha,” he forced himself to say. “You forgot it.” He released her, his fingers sliding over the pulse beating frantically in her wrist. He sat back in his chair, looking as bored as he was capable of—and he’d perfected that look when he was a teen.
Taviano gathered the bills into a pile and handed them to her. She sent him a smile, and Giovanni wanted to slam his fist right into his brother’s face. He was playing the game, too. Why didn’t she give him a lecture? She didn’t look at Giovanni as she walked away. He knew, because he watched her the entire time, or maybe she did, because more precisely, he watched her sweet ass walk away.
He became aware of the silence at the table and eyes on him. He looked around at his family, keeping his expression carefully blank. “What?”
“What the hell was that, Gee?” Taviano demanded. “You were acting the Big Bad Wolf to that girl’s Red Riding Hood.”
“Just fuckin’ bored,” he lied, rubbing his chest where it felt as if she’d ripped it open. “One more nightclub and I’m going to shoot myself.”
It took discipline not to watch her as she went to two more tables to collect glasses and ask if the occupants wanted more drinks—and apparently, he didn’t have any discipline because he watched her the entire time.
“She’s gorgeous,” Salvatore said. “Wouldn’t mind getting to know that woman.”
Giovanni’s head snapped up and he glared at his cousin. “You touch that and you’re a dead man. Or at least maimed.”
A roar of laughter went up, but he could feel Taviano’s eyes on him. His brother saw too much and Giovanni didn’t like it. Until he knew why he was so drawn in by Sasha Provis, he didn’t want to discuss it with anyone.
“So, your little waitress is off-limits,” Geno said. Salvatore’s brother was every bit as good-looking and reputed to be the playboy of New York.
“All our waitresses are off-limits,” Giovanni said, knowing he was trying to deflect.
“I’m going to make some money tonight,” Geno stated. “You all will be paying me a fortune before the night is through.” He stood up.
Salvatore and Vittorio stood up with him. Taviano remained seated with Giovanni. When they looked at him expectantly, Giovanni gestured toward the dance floor. “Go have some fun. My leg’s aching tonight. I’ll wait awhile, see if it’s going to get better and then join you. You’re going to need the head start.”
“You’ve got it bad, bro,” Vittorio said and started down the stairs.
Salvatore and Geno followed their cousin, leaving Giovanni and Taviano alone. Giovanni tried to look like he didn’t have a care in the world, but the problem was, he couldn’t stop watching Sasha as she moved from table to table and he was furious that no one had stepped forward to protect her.
Sasha wasn’t even that good of a waitress. She was pleasant, and it was her smile that drew him from the beginning. She seemed to remember drinks, but she occasionally tipped the glass slightly as she put it down. No one seemed to care because they were too busy looking at her, but one of the women might get jealous and object. He had to guess that she had no training whatsoever dealing with sharks like him.
She had no business serving the VIP customers. Usually their most experienced waitresses or waiters were given the two top tiers to attend. New servers were given the floor. Spilled drinks weren’t noticed as much there. Not only hadn’t he seen Sasha before, but it was clear from the way she fumbled several glasses that she was relatively new.
VIPs could be pains in the ass. Right now, there were two tables he was keeping an eye on. One was the mixed martial arts fighters, gathered to celebrate a major win by Aaron Anderson. He was a star in that community and garnered a lot of tabloid attention. He was good-looking and had come up out of the streets, always a great story. At this very moment, he had three women fawning all over him, and he was making out with all three very publicly. The other men at his table were getting similar notice, due to the fact that they were champions in other weight divisions or up-and-coming fighters on their way to stardom in Aaron’s division.
Twice, Giovanni saw Aaron put his hand on Sasha’s ass. Both times he’d nearly risen, clenching his teeth, furious that anyone would touch her like that. She moved the first time, a subtle hint to stop, and one of the other women moved into position quickly, afraid of losing her place with the fighter.
The second time Aaron grabbed Sasha, she moved back quickly. That put her directly in the path of James Corlege, a fighter on his way up. The man was a friend of Aaron’s and running right behind him in rank. Corlege tried pulling her onto his lap. Next to him was Tom Mariland, another fighter in Aaron’s division working his way up. He grabbed at Sasha as well, laughing at her struggles to get away.
That brought Giovanni to his feet, but security was already there. They didn’t have to intervene because Aaron immediately said something to Corlege and he let her go. Aaron clearly apologized and Sasha nodded and moved away to the next table, the other one causing Giovanni concern.
“Taviano, who’s managing tonight?”
“Gee …” Taviano’s voice held a warning. “We don’t interfere with management. What’s going on with you tonight?”
“She shouldn’t be trying to serve drinks to those assholes, let alone us,” Giovanni snapped. “And you know it. It takes specialized training, which she clearly hasn’t had. Even coming to our table and putting up with my bullshit. She should have told me to go to hell, or laughed it off. At the very least she should have called security to help her. She didn’t know what to do. Who’s on?”
“West. He knows what he’s doing, and it’s obvious he has security watching closely for her safety.”
“It’s not obvious to me. They didn’t come to her rescue when I was harassing her.”
“Come on, Gee. You own the fucking place.”
“It doesn’t give me the right to harass a woman. Especially one in my employ. Which means security needs more training as well. They should have been all over our table, owners or not. What I did was pure bullshit, and no server should have to put up with it. They know that. It’s supposed to be part of their training. We made that clear to our managers. We got the best training possible to spot harassment. Where the fuck were they if West has them watching her?”
Giovanni pulled out his phone, slid his thumb down the list of contacts and tapped a curt demand of West, summoning him to their table. He put the phone away and met his brother’s eyes. “I’ve had it with this job,” he said. “I belong out there working, not pretending to be the world’s biggest playboy.”
“We all have to play that role when it’s needed, Gee, you know that.”