“Night, Elle,” she says as I disappear up the stairs of our townhouse and collapse onto my bed, thinking about my night with Mr. King. I let out a heavy sigh, roll over, and curl up into my pillow.
No dick is worth losing this job, I tell myself as I fall asleep to the images of hazel eyes and dirty words.
* * *
I’m home alone this weekend as Lauren has gone away somewhere with a mystery man. I know it must be someone from the club. Otherwise, she would have told me about him. It’s probably better I don’t know. I keep telling her it’s a bad idea, but Lauren doesn’t need the job like I do. She has a healthy trust fund to fall back on, whereas I have nothing.I need this job. I need it to get that much closer to my goals. So, I let Lauren do her thing and hope no one finds out.
I head on out to my local café and order a coffee. I might head over to Hyde Park and have a lazy walk around the beautiful area this morning.
“Hey, Elle, your usual?” the barista calls out to me.
“Yes, thanks, Tommy,” I call back.
It doesn’t take long for my coffee to arrive, then I pay and say my goodbyes. Spinning, I step outside and right into someone, knocking my coffee out of my hand and right onto the ground, splashing both of us with hot liquid.
“Fuck,” the deep voice curses.
“You need to watch where you’re going,” I tell the stranger as I stare at my coffee all over the ground. It’s then I look up at those familiar hazel eyes staring back at me. He, too, is taken aback by my presence.
“Elle?” he questions.
Shit.
“Sorry, wrong person,” I mumble and take off down the sidewalk.
I cannot be seen with someone from the club.
Does he not remember the rules?
He isn’t supposed to acknowledge he knows me in public, and what he just did then breaksall the rules.
“Hey,” he says, grabbing my arm and halting me. “I owe you a coffee. I’m so sorry, I was on my phone and wasn’t paying attention,” he states apologetically.
He isso hot.
Seeing him outside the club in natural light only highlights his handsomeness.No, Elle.Diffuse those thoughts. He is a guest, nothing more.
“I’ve got to go,” I say, shaking myself from his grasp and taking off again. I take a sharp corner left down an alleyway and hope he walks right past. My chest is heaving with the stress of the situation, but he turns the corner and spots me straight away.
“Look, it’s against the club rules to be seen together outside of those four walls. Ineedthis job. Please, forget you ever saw me,” I plead with him.
Mr. King looks taken aback by my abruptness at first, then reality sinks in, and he remembers. “I’m sorry, you’re right. Here, take this … I owe you for the coffee and the dry cleaning,” he says, handing me a few bills.
My anxiety gets the best of me, and I grab the bills without thinking, just wishing for him to leave. He gives me a nod, turns on his heels, and exits the dark alley.
Shit.Why did I overreact like that?
I’ve run into guests plenty of times before and never lost my mind like I just did, and I’ve definitely not run down an alleyway to get away from them. I throw my head back against the bricks a couple of times, pissed off over my stupidity. He probably thinks you’re the biggest freak. I look down at my hand where the crumpled notes are and realize he’s given me two hundred pounds.
What in the fuck?
That’s too much.
I run out onto the sidewalk to see if I can catch him, but he’s gone.
* * *
“Elle, you’re in room thirty-four. Mr. King is back, and he’s waiting for you,” Sara states, looking down at her tablet.