Chapter 57
Christian just waves his hand. “The girl is a nobody,” he says, his voice calm – even bored. “Just a stripper – that computer wiz, he had money for a minute. And expensive tastes, if you know what I mean.”
A little chuckle goes around the table as I straighten and start to walk away, going slower than I perhaps normally would but not slow enough for anyone to notice, not really.
“She couldn’t have just known nothing,” the old man protests, even as he laughs. “I mean, I know those pretty girls don’t have a thought in their head, but…”
“Trust me,” Christian sighs, waving a hand like he’s ready to move on from it, “she’s nobody. Moved on to greener pastures now, living off of some other man’s dime. A dead end.”
My face burns even as I walk away, though with my face turned away I hope – desperately – that nobody notices. Because even if Christian is wrong about the fact that I was living on Steven’s dime to begin with – even if Steven had money at one point, he never spent any of it on me – well…
He’s certainly not wrong now, is he?
I’m living on Christian’s dime now, there’s no way to deny it. Even if I get paid here, I have no idea where the money goes.
No, I’m just Christian’s little pet that he keeps locked away in his penthouse.
That he occasionally lets come work in his daddy’s cocktail bar because I get bored.
Shit.
“Hey,” Andre says, frowning at me and gently placing a hand on my shoulder when I get to the bar. “What happened? Did one of them do something to you? Did they –“
“No,” I murmur, squaring my shoulders, a little ashamed that I let Andre see that Christian’s words upset me, even if he didn’t know what those words were. “It’s nothing, Andre – I’m just…I mean, it’s late, isn’t it? And I’ve been here since lunch.”
Andre’s lips screw to the side in understanding as he nods and pats my shoulder. “Go take a minute in the storeroom, Bambs,” he murmurs. “Usually I’d let you go hang out with that idiot, who always makes you laugh,” he continues, nodding his head towards Frankie, who pretends he’s not watching my every move, “but…not tonight, yeah? Just take a second to get yourself together. We’re almost done here.”
I smile at Andre, grateful for the break, and I do as he says, moving from behind the bar and ducking into the tiny storeroom where we keep all the dry goods and a couple of extra bottles of the most popular liquor. There, I sink onto the little stool we keep back here for just this occasion and tuck my chin against my palms, staring into space.
I jump a little when the door opens not even a minute later, because what –
But my eyes go wide when I recognize those broad shoulders, that dark head of hair and the stern mouth in the bright light from the hallway before he closes the door behind him.
“Christian?” I ask, confused and a little freaked out. What the hell is he doing here!?
“Are you okay?” he asks, stepping forward and then hesitating. “Why are you just sitting here in the dark?”
“What are you doing here?” I ask, baffled, ignoring his questions.
“You were upset,” he murmurs, slipping his hands into his pockets. In the dark I can’t see his face, shadowed as it is. Christian is, instead, a powerful silhouette standing before me. Silent, I watch him shrug. “I wanted to…make sure you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” I whisper.
“You’re not fine,” he says, a little snap in his voice.
“Chris,” I sigh, getting to my feet and smoothing my hands down my dress, frowning at him and not sure that he can see it. “Why do you even care? Or why are you pretending to care?”
He sputters, I think offended that I’m not immediately grateful for his concern.
“Seriously,” I sigh, casting out an exhausted hand. “I’ve been upset for weeks and you haven’t given a damn about that. But then I walk away from a table one night a little shaken because you called me a nobody living off of a man’s dime – your dime, by the way – and you –“
“Iris,” he growls, taking an angry step forward. “I did not mean any of that – I was protecting you!”
“And what are you doing now!” I ask, frustrated and looking at the door with anxiety. “Do you seriously think nobody noticed you chasing me out of the room!?”
“Nobody did notice,” he growls, “they’ll think I’m going to the bathroom –“
“The bathrooms are in the other direction!”
“Fine!” he snaps, grabbing a stack of napkins off a shelf. “That I came to get more of these! Who cares, Iris, everyone at that table is wasted – they won’t care!”
“Put those back,” I sigh, stepping closer and grabbing the napkins from his hand, moving to return them to their place on the shelf, but as I do Christian wraps his hand around my arm, stopping me.
“None of what I said was actually about you, Iris. You have to believe that. I was just getting them off your trail, obviously.”
“Yeah well,” I sigh, my head hanging a little bit. “It hit awfully close to home, if it wasn’t about me.”
Christian clicks his tongue and then suddenly I feel his other hand on my cheek, tilting my face up. This close, I can see more in the dark, see the strong lines of his nose, his jaw, his lips outlined in what light there is. And god, god but he’s beautiful.
“What are you talking about, close to home?” he murmurs.
“You don’t think that’s the sort of stuff I’ve worried people have thought for the entire time I’ve been doing what I do?” I ask, quietly, my heart breaking a little bit as I confess. “That I’m just a stripper, nothing more than a pretty face, out to get whatever money I can from men so I can live for free? That’s…that’s not what I want, Christian, and you know that. But then to hear you say it anyway…”
I can’t help but sniff, trying to get rid of the stinging at the end of my nose that always presages tears.
“Daisy,” he sighs, and my heart aches to hear him say our secret name as his hand tightens just a little, pulling me incrementally closer. “That is…that is the opposite of what I think of you –“
The door behind him suddenly opens and I gasp, stumbling back, away from Christian, suddenly terrified that we’ve been caught – by Romano, or Violetta, or anyone –
“What the hell are you two doing!?”
Relief floods me and I clasp a hand to my chest, bending over a little in the wake of it, as I recognize Frankie’s voice. He slams the door shut behind him.
“Get out of here, Frank,” Christian growls, half turning to my bodyguard. I can’t see his glare, but I can hear it in his voice.
“No way, Chris!” Frankie hisses in protest, stepping close and looking between us. “You’re being an idiot – what are you thinking, following Iris in here –“
“That’s what I said!” I say, tossing out a hand.
“She was upset!” Christian protests.
“Yeah, and she’s a big girl!” Frankie says, stepping around Christian to put himself between the mafia boss and me. “So, either let her take a second to pull herself together, or leave it to me! If you haven’t noticed over the past two weeks, but I’ve been pretty good at doing that, especially after you left her shattered!”
The packed storage closet is silent for a long, awkward moment as Christian’s mouth falls open is disbelief. He huffs a tiny, appalled sound.
“Come on, Bambs,” Frankie says, reaching for my hand, which I take. “Let’s get you back to work.”
Without another word, Frankie tugs me around Christian and out of the storage room. He shuts the door behind him, leaving Christian alone in the dark, and then pulls me back towards the bar as he looks me up and down, stern.
“You all right?” he growls under his breath.
Looking up at him, a little shocked and a little impressed, I nod.
“Good,” he murmurs, tugging me closer as we approach the door of the bar and pressing a quick kiss to my hair before placing a hand between my shoulder blades. “Give ‘em hell, Bambs,” he murmurs before giving me a tiny shove into the room, following at my heels.
I can’t help but laugh just a little as I glance back at him, grinning, feeling chuffed and grateful for my friend. But I glance at the head table on my way back to the bar and my face falls when I find Romano’s eyes on me.
And realize that he understands precisely what just happened – every minute of it.
Slowly, he smiles, and gives me a long nod before turning back to his guests.
