Page 37 of The Grand Duel
I look around her office, the files still scattered on her desk and the top of the filing cabinet. I look down at the trainers in my hand.
Kindness, to me, is one of the most important traits a person can possess. You could be the richest person in the world. The bravest. The humblest. But without kindness, what really are you? “I can do both.”
“Both?”
“I work until around one a.m., sometimes two—three, latest. But only four days a week. Fridays and Saturdays are the busiest nights at the club, so I don’t see Bronwyn having a problem with me sticking to those two days.”
Her entire face lights up. “I could come up with a relaxed schedule for the other two days. You start late the morning after a shift and leave early the night before. The salary offer will stand.”
The salary offer will stand?
I grin as she does.
“Will it not be too much, Lissie. That’s?—”
“No. No, it will be fine.” I shut her down quickly, not wanting the chance to think too hard on it. “I need the money right now, and I’d love the opportunity this job brings. It’s the dream eventually.”
She claps her hands together. “Right then, would you like to meet the boss? He’s in office today, and I’m sure he’d love to meet you.”
Charles Aldridge. I’ve not forgotten the asshole’s name. Kind of hard to when it’s above the door. “Sure.”
I follow her down the corridor, glancing at the dogs as we pass and smiling when they both come barrelling towards the gate.
They’ll make the job a little sweeter.
Them, and the pay.
I’m mentally figuring out my shifts for the week, and how I will, in fact, make it work, when Edna knocks on a large mahogany door.
She turns and smiles at me with wide, excited eyes.
The job here offered me forty-five grand a year, which would be close to three grand a month after tax and national insurance. Although with the club as a second job, I’ll be super taxed on that. So two, maybe two-five a month take home. Add that to the three hundred a night I’ll make at The Nightingale four nights a week on the bar—that will be at least a grand a week if I don’t work the rooms.
I won’t have to work the rooms.
The realisation hits me with a slap because bloody hell, I won’t have to work the rooms, and I liked it.
The ache still lingering between my legs. The bruises littering my thighs…
I really, really liked…
“Lissie, meet Charles Aldridge. Owner and founder of this wonderful company.”
My eyes fall on him and…holy. Fuck.
“Hi.” I hold my hand up in an awkward wave, following Edna into the room.
All thoughts of my potential millions evaporate from my brain as my eyes inhale Charles Aldridge. There weren’t many photos on the website or Google, and I presumed he was just a very private man. The only ones I could find were of him with other men at a charity gala event. They were all gorgeous, but it still didn’t put a face to the name.
I have now, though. The face to the name. And it’s devastatingly handsome.
Mr Aldridge is sitting at his desk, and his attention is firmly on me. There’s not a lot of things that’ll throw me off my game,but a man in Armani, dark chocolate hair, messy from frustrated hands, a face that looks like it’s carved from stone—his eyes—crap, his eyes. Blue—striking. This beautiful bastard pissed me off cancelling my interview, messing Edna around, but damn him, he sure looked good doing it.
I wouldn’t say I’ve been ruffled, but my core body temperature just rose about one hundred degrees.
Fucker.
I stand beside Edna and wait as he watches me, his face a mask of…I’m not quite sure what that face is giving off, actually, because he looks like he’s seen a ghost, mixed with a little disdain. Which is ridiculous and rude considering he doesn’t even know me.