eat him alive. His eyes hold hers and he sits back as he waits for her private show.
The sexual tension between them is thick and I hold my breath. The hypnotic beat pumps all around and I watch as she drops to her knees on the carpet in front of him. He sits back dominantly as she places both her hands on his upper thighs and crawls over the top of him.
A broad smile crosses my face. Holy hell, this is like another world here. My private peepshow is soon interrupted by a man walking through the door. He hands his card over to me. “Hello.” He smiles.
“Welcome.” I smile. I pretend to know what I am doing and swipe the barcode on his card with my little gun and he walks through. That wasn’t too hard. I actually like being on the door, I get to see what’s going on. Oh shit, I didn’t check the screen to see if his name got added. I touch the screen and it lights back up and I glance to the list of names. I go through them from the bottom up.
Jack Hammond
Brandon Miller
James Holland
Stuart Miles
Carson Archer
Cameron Stanton
My eyes widen when I get to a name that is all too familiar.
Holy fuck. He’s here.
8
Ashley
Oh My God. Oh my God. He’s here. What if he sees me? Oh no! He can’t see me.
Hang on a minute. He comes here by choice?
He’s a member?
What a cock!
My blood starts to boil. I’m so glad I didn’t tell him I remember him. He’s one of those players that comes here behind the backs of his girlfriends, wives, or whatever the hell they are.
Ugh… I’m so off men. This is bloody typical.
I keep my head down and face the front as I hear my angry pulse in my ears. Damn it. I don’t want him to see me. Should I just go home? I swallow the nervous lump in my throat as I glance around the club trying to locate him. My entire professional career will be out the window if he knows I work here. Fucking hell, I can hardly breathe.
Ebony reappears through the crowd smiling and her face falls when she sees the worry on mine. “What’s wrong?” she asks.
“There is a guy here… from my work,” I stammer.
“Shit,” she curses.
“What do I do?” I whisper as I look around nervously.
“Go out the back and get a wig, glasses, and a hat.”
I screw up my face. “What? That won’t work.”
She shrugs. “We all do it and nobody has been caught yet.”
I run my hands through my hair. This is a disaster.
“Well, you can’t go home. We have no staff already.”
I look around as I weigh up my options and, seeing as there are no others, I ask the question. “Where are the wigs and stuff kept?”
Another girl walks past us and Ebony grabs her hand. “You need to cover the door for a minute while we deal with an emergency.”
“I can’t. I’m on drinks,” the girl replies flatly.
Ebony grabs my hand and pulls me behind her, totally ignoring what she just said.
“Thank you. We will only be a minute,” she calls over her shoulder.
The girl puts her hands up. “Hey!” she calls behind us.
We walk along the back, into the staff area and down a long corridor. I’m in a near panic now. “I have to go home, Ebony. If he sees me here I’m totally screwed.”
“Who is he?” She frowns
“My boss.”
She grimaces. “Oh shit.” She continues to drag me along until we get to the hairdressing salon and the male stylist Franco is in there doing two of the Escape girls’ hair.
“Vivienne needs a disguise. Her boss is here,” she announces.
Everyone’s eyes fall to me, and they all screw up their faces in sympathy. I throw my hands over my eyes. “I can’t get caught. Maybe I should just leave this job right now?”
The stylist turns his attention to me. “It’s okay, calm down. We can work wonders in here.” He sits me down in a chair and opens a large cupboard door revealing drawers. He bends and pulls out the second from the bottom. “Brunette?” he asks the girls.
“Yes, and long,” replies Ebony.
He takes out a long, dark chocolate wig and places it on the chair, and then he ties my hair back in a tight bun and puts the wig on my head. Long, dark, luscious thick hair hangs just below my breast.
I stifle a smile. “This wig is…” It’s kind of