A knock at the door, I stood up straight, a small burst of adrenaline pushing me forward towards the door. I opened it and smiled at the man who was staring at me. Any man who came to this room would have an invitation, it was as simple as that. He didn’t even say a word to me, he just handed me his coat and walked in.
“Would you like a drink, sir?” I asked.
“Scotch. On the rocks, dear.” He had a voice that sounded like he drank that same drink all day long for forty years, along with three packs a day. Raspy was not even close to describing it. That would’ve been generous.
“Cigar?” I asked.
“I bring my own.” He grinned and opened his suit jacket to reveal a box tucked into the pocket. I couldn’t help but grin.
“Smart,” I said, probably bolder than I should’ve been.
“I like you, what’s your name?” he asked, looking at me.
“Jo,” I said, but Janson cleared his throat and gave me a stern look. I made an apologetic face and then scooted along to my station and made the new player a drink.
Turned out his name was Jimmy, and the next four players to show up were Jerry, Liam, Sean, and Connor. By the time, they were seated and playing they all had a drink in their hand, and cigars had been passed around.
I was good at this. It was not the best use of my time or talents, but I was good at it. And I looked good doing it. I hated to admit it, but I did. The dress was a mockery of my entire lifestyle, but I wasn’t oblivious to how it suited my body.
No, it was tiny, but it only made me even more aware of how warm I got every time Greyson stared at me. I swore he spent half of the night looking at me, staring into my eyes.
Whenever it got to be too much, I turned away from him.
“Dammit, Greyson. You always drain my pockets every time I come.” The one name Liam said after the third game. Greyson had won the first two. “Girlie, another old-fashioned,” he barked.
I nodded and got to work.
“What can I tell you, Liam. You need to practice your bluff. I can see right through it.” Greyson sounded amused, but Liam wasn’t.
I handed him his drink, but he grabbed my wrist. “You wanna sit for a spell, sweet-cheeks? I bet with your ass on my lap you’ll turn around my game.”
I glared at him and opened my mouth to speak, but Greyson spoke first. “Let her go. Now.”
It wasn’t calm or kind or joking the way he was before, no, his eyes were dark, his snarl vicious. Liam let go of my hand slowly, the way he would drop a gun, and then pushed me to the side.
“I didn’t mean to-” he started, but Greyson held up a hand.
“It’s fine. I apologize. Please do not touch the lady, she is working tonight as a server. Nothing more.” Greyson cleared his throat and dealt. “Another round?”
All the men nodded. He flung the cards out one at a time, his wrist snapping perfectly, his expression stoic. Everything he did, he did it with assertiveness. It didn’t matter if he was playing cards or taking a beating. He did it with the utmost authority. It was sexy.
He was sexy.
No, I can’t think of him that way. I chided myself. That would only lead me down a path of misery. Janson’s words echoed in my head. “That boy will chew you up and spit you out, and you’ll be helpless to stop it. They all are.”
He was right, I knew he was just from looking at Greyson here and now. He was dangerous. So why did he make my breath hitch every time he looked at me. I furrowed my brow and did my best to avoid him most of the night, look away when he was looking, stay out of his way whenever he got up. But somehow I always found myself staring at him.
Thinking about him.
“Well boys, I think I’m going to call it a night,” Jimmy stood and tipped his hat to me, “Ma’am.”
I smiled at him, and he turned and left, soon all the other men were filing out except for Greyson and Janson.
“Go, Janson, I want a word with our new little bartender,” Greyson said.
The hairs on the back of my neck prickled.
“Yes, boss.” Janson left without looking at him, his eyes away from mine. Like he felt guilty.
“You know you look beautiful in that, don’t you?” His voice was low as he said it, husky. “You look beautiful, but it doesn’t suit you. It doesn’t suit your personality. Now that I see you in it I can only imagine a million other choices that would’ve looked better.”
I swallowed hard. “Sir?” I asked, trying to keep my mind on cleaning up. There were drink glasses and beer bottles scattered around to clean and ashtrays to dump. I busied myself with it, but he stood in front of me, blocking my path to the kitchen.
“Look at me, Jo,” he reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear. “Look at me.”
I glanced up into his eyes. They were so full of lust that I almost dropped the glasses I was carrying. I knew that mine were just a reflection of his. My whole body was on fire from watching him, from trying not to think about him and failing.
“What do you think about me?” he asked, his breath hot on my face, the mixture of sweet tobacco and alcohol alluring.
“You’re dangerous.”