My job was to blend into the background; be incognito. I’ve royally fucked that one up if this guy spotted me the second I walked through the entrance.
“What brings you to our establishment tonight, Mr.?” The guy is a pompous asshole, I can tell from the smugness he’s using while speaking with me.
“O’Leary,” I produce, not in the mood to share pleasantries with this asshole or share my life’s story with him.
He’s inconsequential.
He’s an arrogant prick who is trying to come across to me as someone way more important than he actually is. I did my research before I got here, I know who this guy is, he’s the owner. Nothing less, nothing more that we could find.
“Do you have a first name, Mr. O’Leary?” he inquires.
“Not that I share with those who I’m not associated with, Mr.?” Turnabout is fair play, he wanted to put me on the spot, now it’s his fucking turn to answer.
“Just Jeremiah,” he bites out, sticking his hand out for a gentlemanly shake.
Only thing is, this fucker has no clue that there’s nothing gentlemanly about me. I sit here, as still as a stone statue and look at his outstretched hand as if it’s nothing more than an annoyance.
“Don’t touch strangers. You never know if they’re gonna get the wrong idea or not,” I divulge. To which, he tosses his head back and lets out a raucous roar.
“What kind of ideas would you presume someone would make from simple pleasantries?”
Deciding that I’m in a smartass sort of mood, I respond with, “Never know, you could be a predator who jizzes his pants from contact with another man. And whereas I believe in the concept of ‘to each their own’, doesn't mean I’m gonna give someone the opportunity to think they could molest me and get away with it.” I’m just messing around with him, but I’m having fun while doing it. I don’t believe for a second that I have caught his attention in any sexual capacity, but you learn more about a man’s character when you toss something crazy their way.
“I must say, Mr. O’Leary, I’ve never gotten that response before.” Jeremiah inspects me by perusing my features, trying to figure me out, as he answers back.
“I’m not your typical man, Jeremiah,” I spit his name out, tired of these games. I wish this fucker would get to the point of why he invaded my solitude.
“So I’m figuring out, Mr. O’Leary.” I hate the way my last name sounds coming out of his mouth. It makes me want to punch every last tooth out of the cavern.
“What sort of services were you expecting out of your visit to my humble establishment?” he solicits, spreading his arms wide.
“Entertainment, good liquor, kicking back and relaxing,” I affirm, sitting back into the booth and crossing my arms over my chest. I wish he’d get to the damn point of this undesirable chat already.
“We offer other services here as well.” He scoots forward and leans over as if he’s about to let me in on a deep, dark secret.
As I go to lean forward, the server sits my drink down on the table between us. I hold out my hand with the ten dollar bill and wave her away when she goes to issue me change. “What services would that be, Jeremiah?” Out of the corner of my eye, I see the waitress pause before getting a dismissive growl from my table buddy. Her eyes widen as she turns on her heeled shoes and basically runs off.
“I couldn’t help but notice you admiring our headliner?” he imposes.
“She’s easy on the eyes,” I return, not wanting to give myself away to him, and what my intentions are where Star is concerned.
“That she is. She also happens to be really good in the sack.” He snakes his tongue out and licks his bottom lip. His eyes glaze over as if he’s lost in a memory that makes me want to jump over this table and beat the living shit out of him.
“Is that right?” I ask him, removing my hands from the edge of the table and balling them into fists as I sit them in my lap.
“I should know, I’m the one who broke her in,” he methodically chuckles. I have to remind myself of my mission here. And unfortunately, it doesn’t include rendering this guy unconscious in the hospital.
“That good, huh?” Acting nonchalant about this topic in particular should win me an Academy Award.
He’s fucking pimping Stella’s sister out to me.
“Wanna give her a try?” he quizzes me, and I’m not sure how he wants me to respond. If I say yes, will that give me away, if I say no, will I lose my shot at getting close to her? I don’t know this guy's mind or how it works, so I’m at an impasse, a loss for the appropriate way to answer.
Knowing I can’t stall, I finally decide to answer with, “Wasn’t my intention coming here tonight. But if you’re offering something as delectable and mouthwatering as the woman I was admiring earlier, can’t say that I’d blatantly turn you down.”
“Very good. Gray,” he calls the man over with a whip of his hand. “Have Star meet Mr. O’Leary in the pink room.” He then turns his attention back to me, “There’s a bed, a couch and other objects that you are welcome to. Word of advice, she loves to have her ass spanked.” The whites of his teeth are blinding as he plasters a large, predatory smile on his face. “Enjoy your evening, Mr. O’Leary. Tonight is on the house.”
“Appreciate ya,” I grit out.
He says not one more word to me as he scoots out of the booth. I keep my eyes glued to his back as I down the drink that’s now a bit watered down. Feeling eyes on me, I don’t go to the counter and ask
