Unworthy (The Worthy Series Book 1) Page 6

  She’d take his paycheck and ignore him as planned. Easier said than done, and in her hesitation at seeing Ian again, she’d delayed and delayed, reading the same magazine over and over, and finally pancaking on her makeup as a shield against Ian and racing to her car, which of course hadn’t started the first seven times she’d tried.

  Thank God it had finally started or she’d be hoofing it to the bus. No, make it buses. Plural. Public transportation in Miami was not on par with most urban environments.

  As she pulled near the club, she kept an eye out for Ian’s Maserati. Yeah, call her a voyeur, ‘cause she’d peeked out the window after Ian had left her apartment. It had been dark out, but that silver trident logo of Maserati was hard to miss.

  She swiped on another layer of lipstick, slammed her peeling pleather purse into a tiny grey metal locker, then headed out into the club that was already darkened for the night and pulsing with music. Good, she wouldn’t have to talk to Ian. Maybe she could get away without even looking at him.

  No. Too late. She took one step outside the back room and slammed into a wall of a man. Ian Lawrence.

  “Catherine.”

  His deep voice rolled down her spine and she shivered in reaction. Annoyance, she told herself. Embarrassment. Not awareness and arousal, though the truth was, he’d always affected her. Even when they were teenagers, when she’d barely understood what sex was, she’d known that Ian oozed sexy. When her friends were hanging up posters of boy bands and sighing over Edward from Twilight, her personal ideal had always been Ian.

  Even the memory of her vomiting all over him didn’t diminish his appeal for her or the fact that he’d been the bearer of the worst news of her life. The night her parents had been killed, Danny had dispatched Ian to get her at a slumber party. He’d picked her up in his shiny Ford Explorer, a sixteenth birthday present from his parents. Her fellow freshman girlfriends had been jealous that she got to leave the party with a cute, senior boy. They wouldn’t have been jealous if they’d known five minutes later he told her about her parents and her reaction had been to hurl on his hands.

  She still got queasy remembering the night of her parents’ death.

  Cat tried to sidestep Ian, but he back stepped and shifted so she had to either crash into him or dodge him again.

  “Ian, back up.” She stopped walking and daringly stared him in the eye.

  “Not until you say hi.”

  “Hi. Now go away. I’ve got to work.”

  “I know. Me, too.”

  She snorted. “Yeah, like sitting in a booth ordering shots is work. Have you ever done a real day’s work in your life?” Ouch. She realized too late how harsh her words were.

  The easy smile left his face, and she was disgusted that she found somber, narrow-eyed Ian as handsome as smiling, laid back Ian. Maybe more. There was a hardness in his expression that hadn’t been there when he’d been her big brother’s best friend. “I’m sorry, that was rude. I know you work hard at your job.”

  “Apology accepted,” he said evenly.

  “I’ve got to find a woman named Lisa who’s going to give me my orientation. Can you point me in the right direction so I can find her?”

  Ian’s muscular arm appeared in front of her face, pointing toward the DJ booth where a guy was spinning. “She’s over there.”

  Cat’s gaze followed the direction of his pointing finger and spotted a tall, thin brunette who looked as though she should be on the cover of a magazine. This was South Beach. Most of the women she’d meet probably were on magazine covers.

  “Thanks.” She ducked under his arm. Okay, truth be told, she didn’t have to duck far, and had she not been wearing killer heels, she could’ve walked her tiny five-foot ass under Ian’s arm without ducking.

  She made her way over to Lisa who would act as her mentor for the night. Drew had filled her in yesterday when she’d dropped off all her employment forms. “Lisa?” She smiled at the woman’s back and prayed she was about to meet her new best friend in this strange world. The alternative, that Lisa was going to be a competitive bitch, was too icky to think about.

  Her breathing relaxed when Lisa turned around all smiles. “Hey, you must be Cat. I’ve been hearing all about you from Drew. Ready to get trained up?”

  Cat smiled even wider and nodded.

  Lisa looked her up and down. “Man, you are teensy and gorgeous. Do guys love you?”

  She shrugged and gave a betraying glance back in the direction where she’d left Ian.

  Lisa caught her tell and narrowed her eyes. “Good luck with that. Ian doesn’t shit where he eats, if you catch my meaning.”

  Cat swallowed. “Meaning received, but no need to worry. I have no interest in Ian Lawrence. None,” she emphasized.

  “Uh huh,” Lisa said, but it was obvious she wasn’t buying it. Thank God she let it slide, for the next second, she shouted up to the DJ. “Hey, lower the music for a few. Gotta train the new girl.” She pointed at Cat, who gave a wave to the DJ, a tall, black man with multiple piercings all over his face, enough that he’d set off the metal detectors at airports.

  Two hours later after Cat’s brain stopped spinning from information overload, she finally started to relax and have fun. At least a working version of fun. For the first half of the night, she’d helped Lisa seat people from the VIP line into a booth. Lisa had explained which people got preference and which booth was the most desirable. To Cat, they all looked the same. Why someone would insist on having one booth over the other, she had no idea, but she smiled and escorted people to the proper booth.

  Then they had crowded the dance floor, flirting with men and women alike. She carried an enormous glass of a drink with a color not found in nature and pretended to be at the best party of her life. As if she had no cares. As if her brother had bothered to respond to her text about her new address and she didn’t have the hots for her unattainable, commitment-phobic boss.

  She must have been doing a decent job of pretending her world was nothing but parties and drinking, because all of a sudden, Ian’s forearm wrapped around her clavicle from behind. She hadn’t seen who’d come up behind her and her first instinct was to call for one of the bouncers to free her, but then she saw whose palm gripped her bare upper arm. For a terrifying moment, she wanted to lean back against him, but spun before she gave in to the desire.

  “What are you doing?” he asked. His face was a mask of anger.

  She shook her hand out of his grip. “Working.”

  “Bullshit,” he said.

  “What are you talking about? I’m doing my job the way Lisa taught me.”

  “Well, every guy in here probably wants to sleep with you. And some of the women, too.”

  Now she backed away to look up at his face. “Every guy?” Was he high? “I’m trying to up the bar totals. For you.”

  “Maybe not every guy. Roughly a quarter of the men here are gay, so no. It’s the dress,” he pointed out. “Might as well be naked.”

  “What would you suggest I wear? A muumuu? The old school uniform?”

  She felt his gaze cover every inch of her body. “You’ve filled out since school.” His lashes hung heavily over his eyes, giving him a sleepy bedtime look. “The school uniform would fulfill a certain dirty fantasy we guys shouldn’t cop to.”

  She licked her lips and felt the juncture of her thighs soften and melt at the thought of being in her old school plaid jumper alone with Ian. It’d be tight across the chest. Tight enough that she’d need to slowly unzip it. His eyes would be locked on her breasts, kind of like they were now. She’d watch him, tease him, torture him as she’d strip and be left in nothing but her penny loafers.

  “Hey guys.” Lisa’s voice broke the moment. “Sorry to interrupt, but a few of the guys over there have been asking for Cat.” She pointed toward the bar.

  Ian gave a hard look in the direction in which Lisa’s finger pointed. “No.”

  Lisa and Cat gave their boss surprised looks. Lisa
recovered first. “What do you mean, no? They’re drinking up a storm and they’ll tip big, Ian. Let her do her job.”

  “No, she’s dancing with me.” He didn’t wait for Cat to agree to his order, and took her by the elbow. “Dance with me.”

  Distantly she noticed Lisa walking off, presumably to go appease the guys at the bar. “I thought you said you didn’t dance.”

  “I didn’t say that. You looked hot dancing. Too hot and you were attracting attention from men you don’t want near you, like those frat-holes by the bar. But you can dance with me.”

  She allowed him to move her into the slow salsa-like rhythm. “You’re one of the safe men?”

  He looked horrified. “Hell no. But you’re safe from me. I’ll always take care of you, Cat.” He took his gaze off her for a moment to nod and give a fist bump to a tall, athletic-looking black man who strolled by.

  “Was that…?”

  “Center for the Heat? Yeah.”

  Cat shook off that little celebrity spotting and got back to business. “I trusted you once, Ian. Not anymore. I’m not the teenager you slept with. I’m an adult now.”

  “No.”

  “Yes, I am. Twenty-five is a full-fledged adult.” She’d stopped dancing and was staring up at him, hands clenched in fists at her side.

  “I didn’t say you weren’t a grown up. I said no to you not trusting me.”

  She punched his chest, needing space. “How can I?”

  He grabbed her fist. “Did you just punch me?”

  “Yes, and don’t be a baby. It wasn’t hard.”

  He pulled her in tight to his chest and plastered her up against his taller body. His large hands curved around her hips. “Wrap your arms around me,” he ordered. “Let people think we’re playing with each other. They can’t see that I let you hit me.”

  Oh. Oh shit. She hadn’t even thought about the fact that Ian was boss here, and if a tiny woman punched him, it would look bad, not to mention she needed the money from this job badly. Getting fired on her first night would suck. She swallowed back her anger. “Sorry.”

  She grinded up against Ian and did her best to make it look like she was a woman enamored. For long minutes, she let herself enjoy the feel of their bodies pressing close, and then he ruined the moment by opening his mouth.

  “What would it take for you to trust me again?”

  She remained silent, letting the music take over her body. “I don’t know. I wish I did.” She looked down at their feet. His hand gently lifted her chin, forcing her to look up at him.

  “Hey, no looking sad. This is a party,” he said. “You want to work for me, act like the only thing in your life is finding a good time. When you step into one of my parties, you check your problems at the door. Got it?”

  “Yes, but you’re confusing me, Ian. I don’t know what to make of it.”

  “You’re not alone,” he muttered and tightened his arms around her waist, pulling her in tighter to feel his body against hers.

  Either it had been too long since she’d been with a man (sixteen months), or her love of Ian Lawrence had only been in remission, because in his presence, it flared to full-blown cancer. He’d already proven himself untrustworthy. She’d be a dumbass to get involved with a man who, A. partied for a living, and B. took off when things got tough. She needed a man who would stick around through the good and the bad. No, strike that. She didn’t need a man. Period. Full stop.

  And then his mouth was on hers and the sounds of the surrounding party fell away as she absorbed everything Ian was offering. He tasted like a sophisticated alcohol Cat had never tried before.

  Her body pressed closer to his, seeking to feel the hard muscles and planes of his larger frame. She was lost in him and never wanted a map home.

  Until a commotion behind her had Ian pulling away.

  “Shit,” he muttered against her lips.

  “What? What’s going on?” She tried to turn in his arms, but he held her steady, forcing her eyes on him and not on whatever was happening in the club behind her.

  Ian’s palm held her cheek. “Cat, I got this. Do you trust me?” His face held an intensity that had her bound.

  “Got what?” Before she answered his trust question, he was striding away, leaving her alone on the dance floor. Ian headed to the front of the club where the muscle at the door were attempting to keep someone out of the club.

  All her pleasure and passion from Ian’s kiss bubbling inside popped when she saw who was at the door. Danny. “Dammit, Danny,” she muttered and hurried after Ian.

  It sucked being the shortest person in any room, and wearing a micro dress with macro heels didn’t allow for much freedom of movement. Cat struggled to see what was happening, but all she could see were the backs of some very large men. Every few seconds she caught a glimpse of her brother trying to throw a punch or push his way past the bouncers.

  Cat couldn’t see his face too clearly, but his movements and unintelligible shouts highlighted that he was messed up on one drug or another. And likely drunk. “Goddammit,” she muttered again and scooted her way between the bouncers to try to stop her brother.

  Ian was already there, attempting to control her brother and get him out of here. Danny was having none of it, and she could tell Ian had given orders not to physically hurt Danny or he would’ve already been physically picked up and carried back to the sidewalk outside.

  “Danny,” she called over the music, because despite the disturbance at the door, the party behind her continued full swing. “Danny, calm down.”

  He didn’t even see who was speaking.

  “Don’t tell me to calm down,” Danny shouted. “I’m fucking calm, and I’m coming in. Back the fuck off.” He took a swing at the air and made contact with the side of Cat’s face, mostly catching her ear.

  “Mmph,” Cat made an inarticulate noise at the sudden shock and pain. Dimly, she registered that Ian shouted something, and then both bouncers went into action. Like a tag team from WWE, they picked up Danny and easily got him outside.

  Ian followed, and Cat followed him, holding a hand to her throbbing ear.

  Outside, Danny was on the sidewalk, spewing profanities and tearing at his clothes as if they were burning his body. Sweat rolled down his forehead, and Cat saw that he’d lost weight and looked as if he hadn’t showered in days, if not weeks.

  “Go back inside, Cat. Get an icepack,” Ian said, staring down at her brother, without looking at her.

  “I’m fine,” she said. “I want to talk to my brother.”

  “He’s too fucked up to hear you now,” Ian replied, disgust on his handsome face. “You’d have more luck talking to the palm tree over there.”

  Cat opened her mouth to argue but realized Ian was correct. The big brother she loved wasn’t present. Just a shell of him.

  “What do I do?” She didn’t realize she’d spoken aloud until Ian replied.

  “You? You do nothing. One of my guys is going to drive him back home.”

  Her gaze flew up to look at Ian. “They’ll take care of him? They won’t beat him up or anything?”

  He looked annoyed at her question, but answered gently. “They’ll do everything but sing him a lullaby.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and they watched in silence as Danny was “helped” off the sidewalk and carted off out of sight.

  “I should follow them,” Cat said, but made no move to leave the comfort of Ian’s presence.

  “You could,” he said. “You’re done here anyway.”

  She yanked her arm away with enough force to have her teetering backward, but he caught her before she landed on her ass. “Are you firing me?” she practically hissed at him like a wounded animal.

  “Yes.” He raked a hand through his hair. “No. I don’t know.” She obviously had him in knots, and it was only her first night. Mission accomplished?

  “I was working my ass off for you in there.”

  “You were, but, Jesus, Cat. You got punched in
the face on your first night!”

  She brushed his outrage aside. “I’m sure that’s not a normal occurrence,” she said. “Ian, I need this job. I quit my old one and moved into a more expensive place.”

  “I’ll help you out, but I can’t watch you get hurt at my club.”

  “Your club? Last time I checked, you didn’t own the place.” She teetered slightly on a crack in the sidewalk in her sky-high heels.

  His eyes narrowed at her. “I might not own the real estate, but I own the night. Those people,” he pointed back at the club and the line, “are because of me.” He jabbed his thumb at his chest. “I make the party, and you’re not invited.”

  Her whole body tightened. “Fine. I won’t stay where I’m not wanted. I quit.”

  He scowled at her. “Now you’re gonna quit? What happened to being broke?”

  “Thank you for pointing out the obvious. But you’re acting crazy and not letting me do my job just because my brother screwed up. Maybe I’ll try for a job at Uncle Lucy’s,” she said, naming the beach’s hottest new club. She’d overheard Lisa and another waitress whispering that Ian had tried to get a night to call his own at Uncle Lucy’s, but the owner had turned him down.

  Ian’s jaw tightened at her mention of the other club, but he said nothing. She stared at him, waiting for him to respond and wondering if his grasp on the Miami party scene was slipping. He couldn’t hold it forever. He was the same age as Danny, which was closer to thirty than a club kid liked. Did he really think he could continue the party indefinitely? What happened when he wanted to get married or have kids? She didn’t think a wife would appreciate him going out most nights until dawn.

  “Fine,” he finally said, his voice taut. His jaw could’ve been the model for a men’s razor commercial, complete with heavy five o’clock shadow that looked too sexy to remove.

  “Fine,” she echoed. “I’ll leave.”

  “That’s not what I meant. You can come back in the club. But you’re sticking with me. No dancing and no flirting with the customers even if they want to buy you drinks.” He caught up her hand and started to stalk back to the club’s entrance. “Because you’re not allowed to drink.”