Virginia's POV
In eight hours I would have enough money to make rent. I just had to get over being treated like a doormat to keep from being homeless. Of all the side jobs I had, this one made the most money in one night. It was not ideal to say the least, but it was efficient enough for my inconsistent bank account.
“Holy Coyote Ugly!” Aimee teased on the other side of the phone as I fixed the halter top behind my neck and looked into the mirror. I suppose it was an accurate comparison and not too far from the truth. Because even if this gig wasn't based on morals, it gave amazing tips.
“I might bring some friends by-”
“No!” I knew that this meant tips I didn't deserve as Aimee went above and beyond for me. Having met at one of her beloved charity events, I “saved” her from a toxic ex who ended up convicted for manslaughter a few months later and she claims she owes me her life. Because of it, she always gave money and support whenever I couldn't, which was unfortunately always. It was also why I had to deny her presence tonight. If I accept then my tips would exceed the revenue of the entire bar for the year and I couldn't let her play favorites. Especially when there were people in more need of the money. After all, I had somewhere I could go, I just refused to.
“You won't tell me then?”
“Sorry Ames but I need to earn it tonight.” Because after my interaction with the cold hearted Callahan, I needed some human interaction that didn't make me feel…whatever it was he brought to my surface.
It wasn't an hour later that I was preparing for the first set at The Libertine bar. There were a total of five songs we played three times with a final finale that was more of an instrumental of Spanish music that ended with us giving the patron closest to us a shot. I looked forward to that final step as it meant I was one step closer to that paycheck. I just had to get through the ogling and handsy men and women who didn't obey the rules of “don't touch unless touched first”, and never when either side is inebriated”.
“You're up!” My heart raced as I began that first initial sway of my hips and the routine I was sent earlier today to memorize. It was classically seductive with dips and lifts that showed off the cleavage of my cut-off halter tank and soft cusps of my ass coming just under the jean shorts. It was easy to remember and so I had it down pat within an hour, leaving the first and second sets to go by quickly.
By the third I was aching in my borrowed heels and tired of the scent of sweat and smoke. The music was giving me a headache and the other girls were starting to slow down so I had to pick up the slack to keep the tips up.
Eventually it came time for that shot. A bottom shelf whiskey that nobody seemed to complain about because they were already too drunk to care. We loaded up each clean glass, put it at the end of the bar with a lime in our fingertips. The patrons were usually respectful enough to keep and so I didn't think twice when I prepped my own drink, chaser, and fruit.
“That's it baby…” The man offered, hands on my waist, before he tugged me against his soft body. He had been here all night toeing that line of discomfort for most of the girls as I was the lucky one he decided to go over it for. My hands were quick to push against his chest but he was at least twice my size and dedicated to what he wanted from me.
“The rules ask you don't touch-” I began but he interrupted me with a breath soaked in Jack Daniels.
“If you didn't want to be touched like this, you wouldn't dress like a little slut-” The words were entirely too personal. My hands were out away from me before I could truly react. Instead, I was left alone with murmurs around me before storming out the door. I heard the man call me a “bitch” before looking down to my hands as I attempted to hug myself for comfort.
I wasn't a stranger to the word “slut” as it was one I'd heard often enough growing up. But it was the combination of his wording and his grip that made me reach that way. I didn't dress like this for attention but I found a comfort in dancing for a few hours to make rent. Any job was respectable as long as it didn't hurt anyone and instead of leaving the night with a weight off my shoulders of this month’s debt, I was returned to anxiety I thought I outran, or at least hid.
“Virginia…” I turned to find Hank, the bar's manager coming out with a look of chagrin. I couldn't do anything but look back inside the bar, watching as the man was holding an ice pack to his eye. I realized it was my doing, looking down at my nails to see a small stream of blood on my fingertips from having clawed at him. I focused on him until hearing the dreadful words from my current boss.
“So I'm sorry I can't pay you-”
“What?!” My voice was louder than necessary but my reaction was forgivable as far as I understood.
“You made a customer bleed.”
“He groped me!”
“You know how they can be at last call. It's part of the gig. If you can't handle it, you shouldn't have taken the job.” He tossed my belongings I brought for the night at my feet. As desperate as I was, I had chased after him before he could lock me out.
“I need that money, Hank! If I don't, I'll get kicked out of my apartment! I did the job and I am entitled to that money.”
“You gonna hire a lawyer? Because as far as I'm concerned, it is your word against mine and those girls. None of which are gonna risk their job for one handsy guy when they get tips for smiling at guys like him.” He lingered in the doorway just long enough before turning with a look of greedy satisfaction on his face.
“Oh, and in case you didn't get it, you're fired.” I threw my bag at the door, forcing it to close before I turned around. I wasn't able to think of anything but Indiana. My chest and throat were taking turns tightening as nausea and dizziness took a toll on my body. I held myself against the distant exterior of the bar and tried for breath, finding only short exhales to meet my lungs.
“Miss Valentine?” My heart stuttered back to life in a new pattern to my name. More specifically, to the man summoning my attention. I hesitated for a second as I had to wait to a certain degree before he came into focus.
Crisp white dress shirt.
Impossibly brimming lips.
Cold eyes and equally sharp features matching that of ice.
As if tonight couldn't get any worse, Brooks Callahan just saw me have a severe anxiety attack.
So tonight couldn't get any worse, right?
Brooks' POV I was just supposed to be going for pizza. Extra pepperoni and cheese. Instead, I turned the corner from Landon's favorite pizzeria and found her. Dressed like…it was hard to pin just what exactly she was wearing as my attention came to the way she clutched at her chest and rested against the wall in complete distress. Similar to how Landon could look in the beginning of his attacks, I couldn't help but zero in on her, no matter how badly my feet may have wanted to just slip back into my car and finish the distance home. But I owed it to her to return the favor for what she had done for my son. Maybe after paying that debt I could stop thinking about her. “Miss Valentine?” The surname escaped before I could stop it, her porcelain doll eyes were harboring a sea of emotion behind her damp lashes. It twisted
Virginia's POV The home office was a stark contrast to the rest of the icy condominium. It was warm with its mahogany walls and floor-to-ceiling bookshelves perfectly lined with law books and other intellectual literature. A single desk sat at the far wall with a leather chair behind it, a single picture left for decoration that I predicted held Landon's smiling face inside the sterling frame. A couch rested by the window set halfway throughout the room, almost incognito from the fallen curtains that hung behind the Chesterfield. It could be considered welcoming if not for the upset man standing at its center with clenched fists. “You'll stay here. The only thing expected of you is to protect and entertain Landon. You don't bring anybody else here and anything you need will be delivered to you when necessary.” His wor
Brooks' POV She was supposed to be here at ten o'clock on the dot. Instead, I ended up thumping my pen over the extensive contract as if it were a pair of drums and paced my office before ultimately pacing the space around the short desk. The anger lasted for only a short time before the questions began to take its place. Maybe the night before startled her. After all, I'd never raised my voice to anyone like that, especially someone who spoke about Landon with such careful worry and care. It's what made me react in such a way. Her care for him made me want to allow her into parts of my life I didn't allow anyone but my son. Some parts I didn't even let him. Eventually that rage for her lack of punctuality faded into guilt for how I'd treated her. It
Brooks' POVThere were many mornings in my life I wishedI could stuff myself deep into my comforter and become embedded into the mattress. Not even for sleep but to simply evade what was coming that day. Today proved to be one of those days from this hangover that was evident from my own karmic actions. But it wasn’t the thunderous pull of my head turning against me that made me want to shuffle myself into oblivion, but for the thirteen drafts of an embarrassing email I thankfully had enough sense to keep from actually sending. Although I couldn’t piece together the details of a single one without the words becoming a haze of desperation and broken pride, I knew it was enough to know I couldn’t face her. I was thankful I kept her at a distance and made an ass of myself. It meant that the notifications on my phone wouldn’t be a reason to worsen my headache-
Virginia’s POV “I need to get me a hot single dad to move me into his condo.” Aimee teased as I set my phone on the pillow of my new bed while I began tucking my few clothes away for safekeeping. “You literally have more money in your bank account than he does, I’m sure. And don’t you have that guy you’ve been talking to?” “He’s a boy compared to Brooks Callahan. Besides from the way you describe him, the whole brooding thing does it for you.” I quickly quieted her voice and looked over my shoulder to the open bedroom door. For the last few hours as I began to ‘make myself at home’ as he muttered to do since we both came inside, I could hear him throughout the house. It was infuriating in the sam
Brooks’ POVThose goddamn lace panties were my fucking ruin. She wasn’t even under my roof for twenty-four hours and I beat my cock twice at the thought of her inside, or outside, of them. The first time had been in the shower after I managed to stare at her over emails, creating a scenario in my mind that I would be able to peel them off of her. I left with a blank expression, rushing myself bare enough for access, and came so hard on the shower wall that I nearly blacked out. The second time was in my office after standing across from her in that hallway with that little attitude. I thought about snapping the fabric of those panties clean off of her hips and reddening the skin beneath with my handprint before taking her until she learned to keep her smart mouth shut. The more erotic vision of how I’d silence her with my aching cock is what led to that self care session after they’d both fallen asleep. But for just a second I thought I heard her. My vision wa
Virginia's POV Shouldn’t you have butterflies on a first date? The nervousness of wanting to make a good first impression as you hoped it was the stepping stone for what could be your forever one day? This was what I fixated on as I applied the final details to my aesthetic. Soft curls pulled into a tight bun with tendrils falling around the curvature of my cheeks. A subtle lip but dramatic eyes were perfected after two tries, and Aimee’s virtual help, as I used what was left of the perfume she had given me for my last birthday on my pulse points. But I was anything but excited. He seemed like a nice guy, checking in on me and Landon since the incident nearly two weeks ago. But I couldn’t find even a flicker of excitement in my body. I would rather have slipped out of the dress, run a bath, and submerged myself beneath the bubbles while escaping t
Brooks’ POV “I take it you didn’t tell her?” Will sighed on the other end of the phone as I lingered in the parking lot of my law firm, watching her on the security camera app on my laptop. She checked on Landon every half an hour so far and all it did was worsen my guilt. I was thirty-two years old, acting like an obsessed alpha male for a woman, practically a girl, who wasn’t even mine. “What’s there to tell her?” “That you want to be a cliche and get into your nanny’s pants.” He teased. Even though I couldn’t see him, I could imagine that smirk across his damn face. “I just need to get her out of my system..” “You’re better than that. If you want to hook up with someone because you need to scratch some itc