Strife: Part Two (The Strife Series Book 2) (4 page)
Read Strife: Part Two (The Strife Series Book 2) Online
Authors: Sky Corgan
James stands again and walks around his desk, stopping behind me. He reaches up and puts his hands in my hair, pulling out the bobby pins that are holding it together. It falls over my shoulder, and I silently curse at him for undoing my work.
“There, now you look somewhat worthy of being one of my escorts.” His eyes are glued to my neck, and his touch is a bit too gentle, too intimate. It makes me get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. I hate the way he's looking at me. Hate the way he's touching me.
“Who is the client tonight?” I turn around, trying to divert his focus.
It works well enough. He slides his fingers through my hair a few more times before returning to his desk. Internally, I sigh in relief, thankful for the distance between us.
“Apparently, you made quite the impression last night. Dmitri Strife requested you again.”
“Dmitri Strife,” I mouth the name, feeling my heart skip a beat.
A man knocks on the door, drawing both of our attention to him. He's wearing dark sunglasses, is dressed in black from head to toe and looks like the kind of guy hired to break some legs and dump a body.
“Nathan,” James says to him, “Please take Miss Kimbrough to the client's location.” When I turn back to James, he's holding out a card to me. I take it gingerly, looking at the handwritten number on it. “From now on, whenever you leave a location, you'll call Nathan to pick you up. This is part of the way I keep track of your time. I will also confirm with the client when you left him. If you lie to me about the time...well, you don't want to lie to me.”
A shiver rolls down my spine as the meaning of his words sinks in. I feel like last night was my probationary period. Now, things appear to be getting serious. If I go out with Dmitri tonight, I'll be hooked into the business, perhaps way over my head.
It feels like I'm making a moral decision all over again—like I stepped into James' office for the first time. My eyes dance from the card to the driver, and I try not to look afraid. Maybe it's too late to back out now. After all, I have a client waiting for me. What will this guy do to me if I tell James that I don't want to do this after all?
Of course, that's not an option. I made my decision when I showed up at the party the night before. I reaffirmed it by showing up today. I need this money and this opportunity. There's no going back, only forward.
I nod down at the card before turning to leave with Nathan. He towers over me as I flank his side, quickly stepping in front of me to lead the way, opening doors like a gentleman all the while.
“It's nice to meet you,” I say as I climb into the back of the black Escalade waiting outside. It feels a bit degrading that he doesn't allow me to sit in the front passenger's seat, but who am I to complain.
Nathan doesn't respond. He simply shuts the door behind me and then crawls into the driver's seat to start the vehicle. The silence is unpleasant, only elevating my fears. This is definitely the kind of guy who does lots and lots of dirty work.
Even though I gave myself a pep talk on the way over to James' office, my nerves are on the fritz. Between the vague threat of physical repercussions should I screw up, being in a vehicle with a guy who looks more like a murderer than a driver, and thinking about spending the night with a mega-rich rock star who blatantly rejected me the night before, I can't seem to get myself together. It's going to be yesterday all over again, I can feel it.
We pull up in front of the Chateau Silverbridge, and Nathan gets out of the vehicle to come around and open my door. My stomach feels like there's a rock sitting at the bottom of it. I'm nauseous and overheated and a mental mess. I try to recompose myself before Nathan can see how much I'm falling apart since I'm sure he'll report back to James.
When he opens the door, I smile. His tan face greets me with a scowl. While I can't see his eyes, I know there's no warmth behind them. I'm nothing to him. Just a job.
“You will go straight to the elevator and take it to the sixth floor where Mister Strife is staying. You won't look around, you won't dawdle. You
don't
want to be late,” his words are just as harsh as his appearance. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir,” I reply meekly before slipping around him to walk inside the hotel.
How in the hell does James expect me to perform when I'm scared half to death? Each step I take is unsteady. I keep my eyes forward when I enter the hotel, too afraid to even look around as I make a beeline for the elevator. I think I can feel Nathan's gaze upon me, watching me, waiting for me to screw up, even though there's not much of an opportunity yet. I'm probably just imagining it, though.
It's not until I step into the elevator and the door closes behind me that I feel a rush of relief. I'm safe for now. Safe until I call Nathan to pick me up again. Whether I'm safe afterward or not depends on what Dmitri tells James. It's scary to think that my physical well-being rests on the words of another. An angry client could lie, and I'm confident that James would take their side over mine. What have I gotten myself involved with?
When I reach the top floor, I exit the elevator and just stand there for several moments. My body is covered in a cold sweat. My heart is still beating rapidly. I look and feel like I just ran a marathon. There's nothing sexy about me.
You're getting ready to see Dmitri Strife again. You should be excited about that. He's handsome and rich and has connections.
Try not to think about the bad. Nothing will happen to you if you don't screw this up. Everything is going to be alright. It always is.
You just have to make Dmitri happy. That is your one and only goal tonight. Please him. Put all of those years of theater arts to good use. You don't really even have to fake it with him. You like him. He's a good guy.
Even though I genuinely like Dmitri, I know that I can't allow myself to get attached. Can't allow myself to feel anything. This is the life of an escort. Emotionless. Cold. Everything is an act. Everything has to be an act to keep my sanity.
I straighten out the front of my dress and force a smile. My body calms as my legs carry me the rest of the way to the door. I knock three times and hold my breath, trying to formulate a polite greeting in my head, something far more elegant than the night before.
Yesterday, I was a blundering idiot. Tonight, I'm a lady—a professional escort.
When he opens the door, though, all of that goes out the window. I'm starstruck, but beyond that, the realization of how excited I am to see him, not as someone famous but as a man, hits me like a ton of bricks. His charming smile melts me, and I silently hope that it's going to be another long night.
From the Author
I hope you've enjoyed Strife: Part Two. Part Three will be available shortly.
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