Locke would be impressed by my go-getter attitude.
This shit was Employee of the Month material. Not that he ever rewarded any of us slaves. Seriously, the dude needed to up morale. Especially when dealing with bigots like Mr fucking Crane.
My stomach twisted just then thinking of Locke and my devastating encounter with him last month. His pale face, the agony in his eyes as I found him bloodied and undressed…
I shook my head. Now was not the time.
“Alright, hon, lead the way.” I walked past Tanya and stood in the corridor, waiting for her to point out the room. She walked to it and stopped by the door, waiting for my command.
“Open,” I directed sweetly.
She did and I walked in. All the rooms were different. This one had a brown leather couch against the wall, a black glass coffee table over a white shaggy rug and a bar fridge for drinks. There was a dancer pole in the centre. I resisted cursing under my breath. She’d put the man in one of the naughty rooms. Where mine was clinical, without surveillance, and strictly for business, this room was a place for the ladies to score some extra cash on the side (and they made so much money, I didn’t know why I bothered cooking up the books when the same kind of cash could be spent dangling around these poles, ohmygod, could you imagine?…but anyway).
I searched the room, finding no occupant. Then I raised a brow at Tanya who was still standing by the door. Her response was a shrug and nothing more.
“Send me Annika, please,” I demanded.
She did. Annika showed up not a minute later, a friendly smile on her face. “You needed me?”
“There’s no one in here.”
She looked around, like she needed to have that confirmed. Then her face kind of fell with confusion. “He…He was in here.”
“Who was in here?”
She had to think about it. “This really good-looking guy.”
I resisted groaning. “Annika, you’re driving me crazy. I know you have good intentions, but you know you don’t have the authority to set up meetings, especially to do with me.”
“There was something about him, though.”
I pursed my lips. “Annika, you’re not listening.”
“I thought he was one of your clients. Only clients ask for you.”
I paused. She had a point there.
“He used your full name, too. It’s not like he was a stranger. He even said you would understand when you saw him. You know this guy.”
I narrowed my eyes at her, studying her face. She was all red, nibbling on her bottom lip like the very sight of this guy had given her an orgasm… or five.
“You think I know him?” I asked, clarifying.
“Yes, I do! He was certain you’d want to see him.”
“What did he look like then?”
I had a handful of men that met me here in the club. I’d know by the description who it was. Though, admittedly, I couldn’t think of one that could make me orgasm on the spot. They were all old like Mr Crane, or weird, or both. Ew.
“Okay, so, he was really tall, really broad.” She paused and her eyes glazed back a bit. “He was ripped.”
“Ripped?”
“You know, muscley. His biceps were like…they were like crazy big, Charlotte.”
I bit my lip to stop from smiling. “Okay, he had big biceps.”
“And triceps, can’t forget those.”
“Okay, big triceps.”
“Yeah, even had neck muscles. I didn’t know you could get them that big, and I frequent the gym all the time. Dudes would feel so inadequate next to this guy. Like…bulging muscles, get what I’m saying? You know how sometimes big dudes look kind of like Martians, especially when they tan for those competitions and you’re kind of shuddering? Well, he didn’t look like that. It was like so natural.”
My head throbbed. “Okay, I know what his muscles look like, but what did he look like?”
“Okay, so, he had blondish hair, a short beard, pale blue eyes, plump lips, straight nose, and he looked like he was in his thirties.”
Those were extremely specific details.
My movements slowed as I pictured the man in question. I knew someone with that exact look. I had to shake my head to rid his face from my mind. Impossible. I was just imagining what I wanted.
“You have to be more specific, Annika. Anything jump out?”
She mulled my words over. “He had a deep voice.”
“Annika, goddammit.”
“And, well, he wasn’t dressed for the club. It was strangely hot.”