Chapter Ten

Talia's POV:

As soon as we got inside, an older lady who didn't care for introductions and all that, dragged us by the hand to where the other girls stood. Oh, the color of the day. It was either you wore a nude or black gown. And for the boys, a black or nude tuxedo. All the girls looked handpicked. Curvy, beautiful, and wild. makeup. The boys looked like they have been training for this night.

"Make our customers happy and I'll make you happy with a nice paycheck," the older but cute midnight ruby-haired lady who wore expensive jewelry and a long red gown with slits on both sides and a strappy back said. Her body was like that of a model. Absolutely breathtaking and show-stopping.

"I trust you will be on your best behavior. Just balance the trays of drinks and smile."

I wanted to protest that I have never been a waitress walking around in heels. I was used to my ballerina shoes or sneakers. My feet hurt and who knows how. many hours of torture I had to endure.

"Dismissed!" Was the next thing I heard and we were all herder to where we started lifting trays of different drinks, going around for anyone who cared to grab a flute of champagne or a glass of vodka.u

Struggling to balance the tray of drinks and my painful heels, men kept ogling me whenever I made my rounds. It was so embarrassing and degrading especially the fact that I was trying to avoid tripping over.

After tonight, I was going to dip my kegs in a bucket of ice to subside the blisters that were prone to occur on my feet. Luckily, we finished the last rounds of drinks and went on a break.

"Here," Stella handed me a pale pink drink when she noticed that I was rubbing my neck.

"What is this?" I asked her. Honestly, I didn't trust her when it comes to drinks.

"Relax. Just cranberry and water with a little ice to chill you out."

"Thanks." Out of thirst, I gulped everything down at once.

"Sorry, I gave you the wrong glass.

"She looked frightened.

"Stella, what are you talking about? What is in the drink?"

"You see, I mixed a little something in my glass."

"What did you mix?"

"Molly."I had no idea what that was, do, I just stared at her waiting for more explanation. Instead, she started with, "it's not all that bad. It will only help you calm down."

"Ladies, they need some drinks," a busty golden-haired girl informed.

I glared at Stella who had an apologetic shrug before following the girl out.

My head was spinning and I couldn't focus. As if a magnet pulled me, I saw a roman god in the form of a man. Tall and athletic, with muscles rippling under his T-shirt, the sight of him quickened my pulse.

He walked with a nonchalant kind of self-confidence that glued me to him. I let my gaze roam hungrily over him. Hair so dark it almost seemed black. Dishelleved, a bit neatly trimmed. His hawk-like features, for whatever reason, seemed vaguely familiar, though I had doubts to have met someone so perfect. A man like him would not easily be forgotten.

Our eyes met. Locked. And held. I sucked in my breath, my entire body tingling. A feeling new to me washing through every nerve in my body. Women were flocking around him on his side like when you line up waiting for your favorite celebrity to get his autograph.

I couldn't say I blamed them. His eyes were unwavering as he stared intensively at me. Lips curling, he glanced to his left and her right, and at the unwanted drinks, the waitresses kept depositing in front of him. Just an act to get his attention. One could already tell that he was not much of a drinker. Or, was I wrong?

A shiver snaked up my spine. He noted the drinks and smiled. He shook off the desperate attention seekers and strode across the crowded room toward me. Heart pounding faster than the bass beat, I made to walk but my legs betrayed me by staying put without even moving an inch.

"Have we met?" I asked.

Leaning in, "maybe," he said in a hoarse voice curling my toes in my painful heels.

One of the men who'd tried to corner me earlier while I was serving, sauntered up, stupidly attempting to push himself between me and Mr. Got familiar face.

"She's with me," he growled, giving the older man a back-off glare. "Don't interrupt us again."

Muttering a curse, the man went away.

"You could have been nicer," I said, irritated by his arrogance. Mr. Tall, fair and Handsome smiled at me, sending a swirl of butterflies swimming in my stomach. "I don't do nice," he said again in his harmonious voice.

As soon as he said that, my self-balance left me. Causing me to cast down my eyes which landed on his fingers, noting the long, elegant fingers. Even the shape of his hand was perfect The noise was becoming unbearable. Making it difficult for me to hear.

"I can't believe it," he murmured, leaning in close, his breath tickling my ear. "Until I saw you, I was bored. I'd just decided to leave when I took one last look around. Packed dance floor, check. Bodies swiveling to music played at an annoying, unnecessarily loud volume, turn off. And then...you."

I laughed, a bit shaky, hoping he didn't realize that even the husky undertone of his voice was adding to my high state. 'Oh, Stella. I will never forgive you for this.' I mentally cursed.

As if the DJ read my mind, that I was on the verge of passing out if the loud music continued blasting, a slow song began to play. At least, without the loud thumping of the bass, hearing became slightly easier.

"What are you doing here?" he asked with disapproval in his tone.

"Work," I shrugged. He nodded.

"Interesting. Never judge a book by its cover," he said. I wasn't exactly sure what he meant by that.

"It is my first time in a place like this," I added in a bit to make his judgment lighter.

Not responding, his gaze slid over me, as intimate as a caress. "You look gorgeous in this dress."

My mouth went dry and words were nowhere to be found. "Thank you," I managed to say back, smiling at him. "You look appropriate yourself."

He laughed. "Appropriate indeed."

Every time his gaze met mine, my heart did a flip-flop. My entire body burned. If he kept looking at me like that, I might become invisible.

"My head's beginning to hurt," I told him, lightly touching his arm. I couldn't do the self-disciplined attitude again. The place was spinning slowly and steadily. "I want to go home." Of course, I had to avoid the mishap of fainting in a club wearing such a tiny outfit.

Men, I'd learn that something took longer to reach conclusions based on instinct or intuition. Right now, with my head spinning, appreciating the way his muscular body leaned in against mine, I didn't care. Life had a way of playing jokes on me and being close to him, my curves on display, his cologne feeling my nostrils, pushed everything else from her mind.

He looked down at me and smiled once more. The intensity of his gaze and the beauty of his smile sent a shudder through me. My knees went weak and I stumbled. Only his strong arms kept me on my feet. And then I felt the force of the contents in my stomach threatening to find a way out. A hot ache grew inside me, nearly unbearable in its intensity.

"We need to get out of here," I managed, weak with tiredness and molly. Exactly why I said we, I had no idea.

To my relief, he jerked his head toward the door. "Sure. Lead the way."

The instant the cooler air hit my overheated body, I shivered. The place had become less crowded, and the scent of dry sand in the breeze brought me back to reality. Always, did. Yet with him, I felt unsafe. This was wrong.

I should never have gotten his attention. Do your job, get paid and go back to the slums should have been the process tonight. I nearly slapped myself hard in the face.

"Are you all right?" He did not attempt to protest when I told him I wanted to leave. Following me sheepishly. What gave him such morale and made him trust me easily? What if I was bait to lure him? A flickering of desire echoed in his stance, the darkness of his eyes, in every shadow of his perfectly chiseled face.

"Yes," I mumbled.

In unspoken accord, we crossed the parking lot and headed for the beach. I should be heading that way to grab a cab home."

"Just walk with me. You looked like someone who had seen a ghost back there. There is a beach not far from here. The cool air would help you relax after which you can go home."

"Okay," I simply said, not having the energy to argue with him. That was not smart, right? This was teddy Bundy's tactics and all the other serial killers. Find a girl and lire her to where they would execute that perfectly laid out plan. Yet, there I was following him like a sheep following its Shepherd.

The instant we reached the sand, I slipped off the high heels and carried them, so I could walk barefoot in the sand. Remember my original plan of dipping those tortured feet in an ice bucket? The cool sand did quite the work.

"Are you sure that's safe?" he asked. Tilting my head up at him, I smiled.

"I love the way the sand feels between my toes. You should try it."

"No, thank you. It is unhygienic and you are at risk of getting infected."

"Try to live some time. Keep those principles and rules aside, and you will see that there is more to life."

"Those principles and rules have kept me safe for a long time."

"And yet look at your life. It seems boring, right?" Oops, that came out wrong. No more talking. No more talking. Away from the bar and the tourist areas, the beach was peaceful and quiet. Silver moonlight highlighted gentle waves, and even the ever-present screech of seagulls had disappeared for the night.

After covering a reasonable distance on the bleach, the cool air blowing into my face, and my feet getting the pampering that they deserve, he passed and turned to me.

"I want you."

I was astonished. Do you want me to like one of your principles? Or, do you want me as a property? The statement felt slavish to me. He had good intentions, but he expressed himself the wrong way.

"You can't have me. I am not a possession." I snapped.

He looked so relaxed and unaffected. Stepping forward, too forward that made me step back, he leaned and whispered, "What I want, I get it."