Rosie White, an Art History student working to achieve her life goal of becoming a sought-after local artist. She pours her heart and soul into her art and dreams of falling in love. After Rosie lost her grandma, and with no parents in sight, she se...
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Walking back through the club, I make my way out to the private elevator, only for my use and make my way down to the basement to my car.
What kind of crazy, fate, conspiracy shit is it that the girl I have been thinking about for the last three days suddenly turns up wanting to work for me.
When I wished to see her again, this wasn't exactly what I had in mind. I shift my hand down, adjusting the painful hard on I'm sporting after seeing her again.
The pinging of the elevator brings me out of my thoughts, and I make my way to my car.
I run my hand over my face as I take a seat behind the wheel. Resting my head back, bathing in the silence again.
I was rude to her, as soon as I saw her, I freaked, she has some sort of control over me that messes with my thoughts.
I sent her packing like she was worth nothing, if only she knew the reality.
Sighing out loud, I start the engine, pulling out of the private parking lot, I dial Brandon's number and listen to the dial tone before he picks up.
"Boss," he speaks breathlessly.
Gliding my car through the city I reply, "Am I interrupting something?"
When I hear a muffled woman's moan, I laugh out loud and reply to myself before he has a chance, "Sounds like I am."
"Just getting acquainted with Gemma," he replies.
"It's Kiera," I hear quietly in the background.
I can't stop the laugh that tumbles out of my mouth that time, pulling my car in front of my favourite Italian restaurant. I cut the engine and hop out. "Right, what can I do for you boss?" Brandon asks.
"I was going to ask if you wanted a poker night, but sounds like you're preoccupied," I reply, pushing through the door and inhaling the heavenly scent of food.
"Sounds like a plan boss, should I call Michael?" he replies, and I hear him shuffling the phone around.
"Yes, meet at mine, I'm picking up some dinner, shall I get your usual?" I reply, nodding my head to Matteo, the restaurant manager as he emerges from around the corner.
"If you're getting Italian then yes, my usual."
I hang up, dropping the phone into my suite jacket pocket before greeting Matteo, "Good evening, Matteo, the usual for myself, Brandon and Michael."
He nods his head and greats my back in his native tongue, "Buona serata Carlson, arrivando subito."
Once I've thanked him for ensuring me my food is coming right up, I move towards the side of the restaurant. It's busy, couples and business meetings happening at every table. Good, that means business is going well.
***
One week later
Walking through the basement, I make my way to the elevator and up to my office. This club is the closest to my home, with its large office space it allows me the best space to operate all my business from.
I make my way inside my office, walking towards the desk, I sit down in the chair with a large thud. This week has been tedious. My father continues on his path to get me to take over his firm, not taking no for an answer. I even debated taking it over just to stop his wrath and selling it once I have full control, but I couldn't betray my father like that.
Just as I'm firing my computer system up, my door opens abruptly. There's only three people that enter without knocking. Michael, Brandon and my father.
Brandon walks in, looking smug. "What's that look?" I ask.
His face breaks out into a smile, "Since when did you hire the brunette?"
I blink, confused. "What?"
"The brunette from a couple of weeks ago, since when did you hire her?" He moves to walk around my desk, moving to stand in front of the windows overlooking the club.
My heartrate picks up, "I didn't hire her, she came for a job, but I didn't give it to her. How did you know she came for an interview?"
Brandon laughs out loud, and I turn, fully facing him in my chair. "Well, I don't think she got the message then," he smirks as I stand to move towards the windows.
When I glance down at the bar, my brows pull together with pure confusion. She's there, behind the bar, observing Elijah.
"What the fuck?" I blurt.
Brandon laughs, and I glare at him.
I move through the office, making my way out and down towards the club. What the fuck does she think she is doing?
