Chapter 15: Chapter 15

Francesca

I’m a slut.

Candy

Is this something you just realized?

Francesca

Hey!

Candy

You are a stripper. I thought the whole slut thing was obvious.

FRANCESCA

Candy’s message has me laughing. I’ve only been back at James’s place for ten minutes, and I’m already missing Christian like crazy.

I miss his kisses, his voice, and, oh god, that smirk of his.

I spent Friday night wrapped up in Christian’s arms, completely satisfied. He wouldn’t let me leave his apartment until four in the afternoon on Saturday, stuffing me with all sorts of homemade Italian pastries, made by him.

Before I left, I made him call Marty to confirm that I could still work at the club. Christian had Toby drop me back at James’s place.

Candy

So what is so slutty?

Francesca

I slept with the guy last night.

My phone starts ringing almost immediately.

“What?” Candy practically yells into the phone. “Are you serious?”

“Why would I make this up?”

“But I thought we hated him for firing you? Why the sudden change of heart?”

I spill the details of my entire evening to Candy, probably sharing way too much information.

“I wish I was working tonight!” she exclaims over the phone.

“Why?”

“Isn’t it obvious? Mr. Gorgeous is going to show up and watch your every move. So possessive. So sexy!”

“No...he wouldn’t. Would he?”

“I don’t know him at all, but from what you’ve told me, heck, yes, and I would pay to see it.”

Eventually, Candy and I say our goodbyes, and James walks in through the front door.

“I got Thai food,” he says, tossing some brown bags on the coffee table.

“Best. Roommate. Ever.” I grin as he plops down next to me.

“You seem pretty happy, considering what happened last night.”

I blush a million shades of red at the mere thought of last night, and James’s eyes narrow.

“What? What did he do?”

“I assume you’re talking about Christian.”

“The entitled Mr. De Luca. Who else?” James scoffs. “Seriously, Frankie. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, and I’m going to be late.”

“For what?”

“The club.”

“I thought he fired you.”

“I renegotiated.”

“You’re serious?”

“Yup.”

James keeps talking to me through the bedroom door as I change. He tells me about his day and how he met a cute barista on Madison Avenue.

Once I’m ready, I tie my hair up and drape my trench coat over my arm as I walk back into the living room.

I grab another container of Thai food as James tells me everything there is to know about—

“Laura. She’s awesome. Definitely playing hard to get, but I think I’m wearing her down.”

“And how many coffees have you had today?”

James looks at me sheepishly.

“I work nights, Cheer. Are you telling me you don’t drink coffee?”

“No, I definitely drink coffee. I just don’t have Laura, the cute barista, making them for me.”

“You might want to put some makeup on those,” James says, and I look at him confused. He points to my neck, and I blush.

~No way!~

I rush into the bathroom, look at my reflection, and gasp.

~How did I not notice before?~

My whole neck is covered in hickeys. It takes me almost a whole bottle of concealer, but I manage to cover Christian’s marks.

I stick my tongue out at James as I walk back into the living room, and we clean up our dinner mess together before heading down to the club.

Rick gives me a hug and a kiss on the cheek as we pass, and James heads straight for the bar, his happy place.

“You want my specialty, Cheer? To celebrate you still having a job?”

“Lay it on me.” I laugh, shrugging off my jacket.

“I heard about the new owner firing you.” Daisy’s voice comes from behind me.

“Misunderstanding,” I say, as James hands me a shot of tequila and a beer chaser.

“Oh really? Because Angel told Cindy that Candy said—”

“I’m going to stop you there. I’m here, aren’t I? I’m still dancing, Daisy, and right now, I’m going to throw back this drink and get to it.”

I wink at James before downing the shot and chugging my beer.

“You don’t—”

“All right, girls! Doors open in five.” Marty interrupts Daisy as he calls out over the club. “Daisy, why aren’t you dressed?”

“Marty, I was just—”

“Go!” Marty’s eyes land on me, and he smiles. “Good to see you, Cheer.”

“Is it, Mr. Jones?”

“Oh, come on, Frankie, don’t be—”

“I’m sorry, I must get to work. I do still work here, right?”

“Frankie, you have to understand where I was coming from. He is Christian De Luca, for God’s sake!”

“Oh, I know exactly who he is, Mr. Jones, and I thought I knew you, but clearly I don’t.”

I turn on my heel and walk away, hearing James laughing as I enter the back room. I hear Marty tell him to shut up.

My night starts like any other. I’m the first to dance, performing my usual routine.

When I get off stage, Marty introduces me to the interior designer Christian hired for the club. I have no idea when he did that, considering he was with me practically all day.

“Olivia Santiago. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too.”

“Mr. De Luca was pretty clear about wanting you to be part of the design process. He mentioned how much the club means to you. And after seeing your performance earlier, I have to admit, I’m a bit envious.”

“Thanks. I should get back to work now.”

“Of course. Mr. De Luca wanted my input. I should get these notes back to him.” Olivia picks up her drink from the bar and heads to the back corner of the club.

I serve a few more rounds and dance once more before James hands me a bottle of the priciest scotch from behind the bar and two glasses.

“For the booth in the back.”

“Really? Who spends this much on scotch?”

“Get me a taste if you can,” James says. “That stuff is supposed to be super smooth.”

I laugh at him, smiling and waving to the regulars as I make my way through the club. I put the scotch and glasses on the table without looking at who I’m serving.

“Hi there, I’m Cheer, and I’ll be your—Christian!”

My eyes widen at the sight of him, and he just smirks. He’s holding a familiar notebook, the one I saw Olivia with earlier, but he puts it down on the table and stands to greet me.

“Kitten.”

Christian’s hands rest on my hips, and as if to show every man in the club who I belong to, he pulls me against his chest, his lips meeting mine with passion.

“Marking your territory?” I whisper against his lips.

“Mine,” he growls. His fingers brush over my concealer-covered neck, and I feel him wiping away some of the makeup. “All mine.”

***

My alarm goes off way too early on Monday morning, but it’s my first day in the QB Enterprises marketing department.

When I check my phone, there’s a message from Leo that makes me smile. Things between us are almost normal. Almost—it’s easier being on different continents.

QB

Good luck today, Cheer. I wish you had told me that you needed some work but I’m glad Christian gave you the job. You are going to be fantastic. Don’t forget you have both CEOs on your side.

I send a quick thank you in reply before heading to my limited wardrobe.

Candy jumped at the chance to shop for me. I gave her a hundred dollars to buy a couple of corporate outfits. For my first day, I choose a black leather skirt and a red leopard-print button-up shirt.

I shower, get dressed, and do my hair and makeup before heading to the kitchen. I try to make some toast and coffee without waking James, knowing he has to work tonight.

The apartment buzzer sounds, and I let whoever it is up. I open the door to find Toby staring at me, his mouth set in a grim line.

“You should really have the person identify themselves, Miss Barton. It’s not safe—”

“Toby, I’ve lived in New York for ten years, and I’m a stripper. I deal with drunk, horny men all the time. If anyone can handle themselves, it’s me.”

“That’s not the point, Miss Barton. Mr. De Luca would—”

“What would the great Christian De Luca do?” I ask, rolling my eyes.

Toby smirks but doesn’t answer.

“Not that it’s not nice to see you on a Monday morning, but why are you here?”

“Mr. De Luca sent me to pick you up.”

“Does he not trust that I can get to work on time?”

“I think he’s just worried about your safety, Miss Barton.”

“Would you like some coffee?” I ask, giving in to the inevitable.

“Thank you, Miss.”

Toby follows me into the kitchen as four other suited men walk through the front door.

“Are they with you?”

“Movers,” Toby says without further explanation as I hand him a cup of coffee.

“Because...?”

“They’re here to move you to your new apartment.”

“What?” I stand up, spilling my coffee over the kitchen island countertop. “You’ve got to be kidding.”

“Mr. De Luca rarely jokes when it comes to you, Miss Barton.”

“He’s having me move in with him? Isn’t that a bit much?”

“Not with him, next door.”

“Next door?”

“Yes, the penthouse next to his. Mr. De Luca has made sure the whole place is ready for your things. If you want to do any remodeling, that can be arranged.”

“Toby.”

“Yes, Miss Barton.”

“Please tell me you think this is crazy. This is too much, right?”

“That’s not for me to say, Miss Barton.”

I groan, banging my head against the counter.

“I don’t have a choice?” I ask, already knowing the answer, and go back to thumping my head against the marble countertop.

“Cheer? You hungover?” James appears in the doorway, sleepily rubbing his eyes. He takes in the five unknown men standing in his apartment and narrows his eyes. “You okay, Frankie?”

“I can’t leave James. He won’t be able to pay his rent,” I blurt out quickly in Toby’s direction, and James looks on, confused.

“Mr. De Luca has already subsidized Mr. Abbott’s rent payments so he can continue living here on his own.”

“Wait, you’re moving out?” James asks.

“Apparently.” I roll my eyes.

Toby checks his watch and places his mug in the sink.

“Miss Barton, we really should get going.”

Toby heads to the door, and the four other men are already assembling boxes. I follow Toby, but James stops me.

“You okay?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll come over Wednesday night, and we can have Chinese before our club shift.” I kiss James’s cheek and slowly leave what was my home for almost three weeks.

Toby doesn’t say anything on the drive, which gives me a chance to silently fume.

~Why do I have to move?~

~Because he wants you where he can take care of you.~

~No, he wants me under his control, completely under his thumb.~

I'm in the middle of a mental tug-of-war when I realize we're going to be stuck in traffic for a bit. I pull out my phone and dial Christian's number.

His cell diverts and after a couple of rings, a woman's voice answers.

“Mr. De Luca’s office, this is Bridget, how may I assist you?”

“Hi, Bridget. You probably don’t remember me. I’m Francesca Barton, I—”

“Of course, Miss Barton. I believe you’re starting your job in our marketing department today.”

“Uh, yes, currently on my way.”

“With Mr. Spencer, I presume.”

“Who?”

“Toby Spencer, Mr. De Luca’s driver and bodyguard.”

“Oh, yes!”

“What can I do for you, Miss Barton?”

“I was hoping to speak with Christian. I called him directly but got diverted.”

“Mr. De Luca requested not to be disturbed this morning.”

“Okay, well, I guess I’ll just see him when I get to the office.”

“Mr. De Luca will be off-site for most of the day.”

“Off-site?”

“Yes, he's visiting several of QB’s holdings. He left with his secondary driver about fifteen minutes ago.”

“Bastard!”

“I’m sorry, I—”

“Not you, Bridget. He planned this! He knew I would be mad, and now he's just biding his time, waiting until I've cooled off so he can just swoop in and—”

I stop myself when I realize I’m still on the phone. “Sorry, Bridget, you didn’t need to hear that.”

“It’s quite all right, Miss Barton.”

“Please, call me Francesca.”

“Very well, Francesca. May I offer a suggestion?” Bridget asks hesitantly.

“I’m all ears.”

“According to his schedule, and he always sticks to it, Mr. De Luca will be in the office between twelve and twelve-thirty.

“I know for a fact that Mr. Myles Matthews from the marketing department rubs Mr. De Luca the wrong way.”

“Are you suggesting I take this Myles guy to lunch conveniently timed with Christian being in the office?” I ask, and Toby looks at me in the rearview mirror, eyebrows raised.

“Your words, not mine.”