Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 99598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99598 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 498(@200wpm)___ 398(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“Eleven years.”
“Yeah, but I’d never ask if it would look bad on you. If you could ask if he’d take a look at my résumé? Or give me an interview? I’m better in person for this sort of thing, and I understand he is a friend of yours. God, I know it’s a lot to ask and I wouldn’t have if it wasn’t important but—”
“With who?”
“Brett Westhill.”
He remained quiet a minute, eyes drilling into me. I had no idea what was going through his head as his expression was unreadable. I shifted uneasily as I waited for him to say something.
I’d done my research and found out Brett Westhill was friends with the band. According to the articles on Tear Asunder, the band got their start at the bar Avalanche, which Brett had bartended at. Not for the money obviously, as he had more than enough to retire on a hundred times over. Brett said in one article he did it because, “It grounded him.”
Brett opened an exclusive nightclub in Toronto a few months ago. A club that had go-go dancers who were the best paid in the city. The problem was, it was a hot new club and getting a job as a dancer there was slim to none. Especially since my experience dancing was not in a nightclub, but teaching modern dance in a studio.
But Compass was the hottest nightclub in the city and not easy to get into especially as a dancer in one of their cages. Trevor was the one who suggested I apply as he’d heard the tips were the best in the city. I could work there while I waited for the gossip my cheating ex spread about me to die down. Eventually, I hoped to save enough money to start my own dance studio.
When I’d applied, the guy at the door took my résumé but he said I wasn’t the type they were looking for. I knew I wasn’t the hottest chick in the lineup and it didn’t help that I refused to show more skin than clothing when I dropped off my résumé.
“You want to work for Brett?”
“Yes.”
He shoved his drumsticks in his back pocket then cracked the seal of the water bottle. He offered it to me first, but I declined, shaking my head. Then I watched as he chugged it back, his Adam’s apple moving up and down as he swallowed the cool liquid. How was it possible that an Adam’s apple looked sexy?
I swallowed, trying not to stare, but I couldn’t help it. He placed the cap back on the bottle then met my eyes again. I chewed my bottom lip nervously because despite being fairly confident, Killian had always been intimidating as hell, and as the seconds ticked by, I became more uncomfortable.
God, this was crazy. I shouldn’t be here. There were other nightclubs I could apply to, but Trevor advised me not to work in those as they weren’t safe and a lot of drugs flowed through them. Word was that the girls weren’t treated very well either. Compass had a strict no drug rule. Anyone caught with them, patron or staff, was banned.
The door creaked as he shifted his weight, green eyes watching me and I felt as if I was back in high school unable to move.
“I’m sorry. This was a horrible idea. I shouldn’t have come.”
“Probably. But you’re here now.”
There was a low vibration coming from his pocket, likely his cell, but he ignored it. It stopped then started again. “Do you need to get that?”
“No.”
Oh. I swallowed, my throat suddenly dry as hell, and I wanted to chug back the water he held in his hand, but I didn’t have the nerve to ask him for a sip.
His phone rang again.
“Someone wants to talk to you pretty bad.”
“Savvy, I’m talking to you at the moment. Whoever is calling can wait.”
There was no quietness about him, and his deep voice sent a wave of shivers through me. I knew who I was coming to see when I’d made the decision. But there was an uncertainty with him. I had difficulty reading him. In high school it was easy because he was always angry, but now… I couldn’t figure him out.
What unhinged me was that even after eleven years, I was still attracted to him. My stomach had drunk butterflies fluttering around, refusing to make a decision on whether to be turned on or frightened or feel just plain stupid for being here.
He pushed away from the door, and his grip on the water bottle must have tightened because the plastic crackled, making me jump. God, I was never this jumpy.
It took him three strides before he was right in front of me, and the smell of soap, sweat, and cologne drifted into me. It was subtle and nice. Really nice. Killian had always smelled good, so it shouldn’t have surprised me. And it didn’t. It was more of an awakening to emotions that were better off being buried beneath a load of cement.