Praise (Salacious Players Club #1)(6)

“Normally, I’d want your eyes on the floor, but I want to look at you.” He tilts my chin up as he examines my face.

I can’t breathe. I can’t move. I can’t do anything because I am defenseless prey in his hands. He’s a lion and I’m a meek gazelle caught between his teeth.

His features soften, and the corner of his lip twitches. “Lovely.”

That word drips like warm honey trickling down my spine.

When he lets go of my chin, he spins away and walks to the other side of his desk.

“Where did Garrett find you?” he asks.

“Garrett?” I stammer, confused. Does he mean Beau?

“I told him not to send anyone today, and you clearly need more training, but—"

It’s like someone snaps in front of my face, waking me up from this hypnosis. “Wait, what?” I bark out, interrupting him.

His head snaps in my direction, looking offended by my audacity to cut him off.

“Who is Garrett? What training are you talking about?”

“What is your name?” he asks slowly.

“Charlotte Underwood. I’m here to pick up a check from you.”

“Charlotte? What check—" There is a twitch in his eye at the exact moment he realizes something is wrong, and all of the control and calm melt off his face until he looks scrambled and apologetic. “Jesus, get up.”

I jump to my feet.

I watch as he rubs his brow line, looking pensive and distraught. “You’re Beau’s girlfriend,” he says with a groan.

“Ex,” I correct. He glances up at me with a hint of surprise on his face.

“You broke up?”

That’s what he’s focusing on right now?

“Yes.”

Letting out an exhale, he reclines in his seat, and I wait for him to say something.

“I just need half of that check. He gave me your address and told me to come get it.”

There’s a wince in his expression and he goes back to rubbing his forehead. “Of course. How much do you need?”

I watch as he reaches into the drawer of his desk, pulling out a checkbook and a pen.

“The deposit was for two thousand, and half of that was mine.”

When his eyes dance up to greet me again, I feel myself almost cower. He’s so intimidating, and maybe that’s where Beau gets it from, although Beau acts more powerful than he really is. This guy just is powerful, no denying that.

He scribbles out the check, rips it from its place, and passes it to me. Quickly, I step forward and take it. I should run away right now. I have what I came for, the awkward mix-up is behind us, and I have no further reason to stay, but I feel stuck in my spot.

“Charlotte, I have to apologize. I’m afraid I thought you were someone else when I found you in my office.”

He won’t look at me as he speaks, just unbuttons his sleeves and begins rolling them up. I’m fixated on the movement of his hands and the way that tight white shirt looks against his tan skin.

I swallow. “Who did you think I was?” I ask, knowing full well I have absolutely no right to that answer, but I’m nothing if not stubborn and reckless.

His eyes are back on my face again. “It’s not important.”

“Someone who works for you? Or someone you…hire?”

He glares at me, his eyes squinting with intensity as he realizes what I’m implying.

“Like I said, it’s not important, and I’d appreciate you not sharing any of this with Beau.”

“I don’t talk to him anymore, and I don’t plan to.”

His jaw clenches as he exhales the word, “Fine.”

Turning on my heels, I head toward the door, reading the check as I go, feeling utterly humiliated and irritable because of it. And just as I reach for the door handle, I picture Sophie’s face. And I remember that her birthday is coming up, and how those Anime Fest tickets are expensive, and she wanted VIP passes to meet her favorite illustrator.

So I pause.

Oh God, this is stupid, but I have to try.

I turn around to face the person who intimidates me more than anyone I’ve ever met. And when I see him there, filling up that large chair behind that giant desk in front of floor-to-ceiling bay windows, it makes sense to me why girls would come in here and kneel for him. I bet he’s not used to girls who talk back, challenge him, give him hell.

But he owes me. I got on my fucking knees for him.

“You know…I might see Beau again, actually,” I say carefully. He glances up at me with a curious notch in his brow.

“I hope I don’t accidentally let any of this slip…”

Oh, you are bold, Charlie.

My hands are shaking, and I can’t let him see me falter, so I quickly clutch them behind my back. I hold my head up high, shoulders back, and I look him right in the eye.

Without another word, he pulls out his checkbook again, and the look on his face says he is not happy at all, but I remind myself that I don’t care. I don’t care if he’s mad at me or hates me or that I’m making him angry.

Except I do. I do care, and I hate the disappointed scowl on his face as he scrawls out another check. But I need this money, and I’m in the position to get it.

Do it for Sophie, I remind myself.

“What number might help you remember to keep quiet?” he says with a grunt.