23. Mel

My heart hammers against my ribs as I read Kitty's rather obscure text once more.

Get here a half hour early today. Mr. Kelly wants to meet with you about last night.

Shit.I had a feeling he was letting me off too easy. He probably heard how I mouthed off to Vinny during his private dance and changed his mind about how he wants to handle the fight. Please, god, don't let me lose my job.

Swallowing my anxiety, I let my feet carry me more quickly down the street. I'm not going to make it quite on time. I got the text too last minute and couldn't get Gabby ready and settled in the nursery quickly enough.

"Hey, Vik," I greet as soon as I approach the alley, but I don't bother being falsely cheerful today. I'm too anxious.

He barely has time to get the door open for me before I'm hopping up the step into the club. Dim red lighting envelopes me as soon as I enter, but unlike most nights, the music isn't throbbing through the walls just yet. It's nearly an hour before Pearl's even opens.

Taking a deep, steadying breath, I consider just how pitifully I'm willing to beg to get Keoghan to let me stay. Then I stop at Kitty's office door and knock.

"Come in," she calls, and I do.

Shoving the door open, I swallow my nerves as I meet her eyes. "Where is he?"

"You're supposed to meet him in the lounge, I guess," she says, her voice laced with a hint of strain that tells me it's not a good thing to be called into the lounge.

That's where his captains hang out on occasion. The girls who go in there don't usually come out the same. Is he going to punish me for what happened? Let his men do something to me? I shudder, my stomach coiling, and I consider whether it might not be better to cut my losses. I'm still sore from my night with Gleb, and I don't relish the idea of wiping the memory of his hands on me from my mind, replacing it with someone else's.

"I wouldn't recommend keeping him waiting," Kitty warns as I stand frozen, undecided.

"Right," I breathe, turning on my heel and racing toward the lounge.

I don't exactly know what would happen if I broke my contract with the Kellys. Nothing in there specifically says I have to stay on with them. But it does request two weeks' notice if I intend to leave. Then again, nothing in the paperwork would suggest I might have to service his men if he's unhappy with me, so I don't think he could hold me to it if I quit on the spot.

What am I thinking?

Right now, I have to decide—before I have a chance to see the monster on the other side of that door. He's not going to let me pick once I'm in there. Would he? In truth, I don't know Mr. Kelly well enough to be sure. He's always treated me with respect, never insisted I do anything more than what the contract expresses explicitly. Then again, I've never gotten in trouble before.

Breaths coming ragged, I reach the lounge door and pause.

What's it going to be, Mel? Leave before you have to do something you don't want to? Or stick it out, even if it's unsavory, because your daughter is safe and happy and has a roof over her head?

My stomach knots as I think about Gleb's words last night. He intended to take me back to New York with him. That would have helped the conundrum I suddenly find myself in. But I have no guarantees he would have extended the same courtesy to our daughter. So it wouldn't have solved anything, really.

Steeling my nerves, I suck up my courage and knock.

"Come in." The voice is reedy and muted behind the door, the Irish accent thick.

And as I swing the door open, I find Vinny in the room.

Alone.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I was told I had a meeting with Mr. Kelly," I say, the hair on my neck rising as soon as our eyes meet. I try to step back out and close the door behind me.

"Yes, come in," he states, gesturing for me to enter.

His demeanor is different today, more stiff and formal, and I wonder if that means Mr. Kelly actually stood by his word and told Vinny to leave me alone. Maybe we're both here to meet with Keoghan and make sure it's all water under the bridge.

Swallowing hard, I won't get my hopes up. But I do step into the room and let the door swing closed this time.

Vinny studies me with open interest as the silence stretches between us.

"Is Mr. Kelly on his way, then?" I ask when Vinny indicates I should take a seat.

Back rigid, I settle onto the couch he gestured for me to take.

"You're adorable, darlin'," he says, taking a seat beside me as he unbuttons his fine suit jacket. "Don't you know I'm Mr. Kelly as well?"

Fuck. Double fuck.

Tensing, I move to stand, but he grasps my wrist and keeps me where I am.

"Now, now, no need to be like that. I think we got off on the wrong foot, and I just wanted to speak with you before your shift to clear the air," he says, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Oh." I wish he would remove his hand from my wrist, but I fight the urge to yank it away if he's actually serious. "Okay."

"My cousin made it perfectly clear that I'm not to bother you while you're working. And I apologize if my behavior was… inappropriate," he says, taking my hand with both of his now.

Stomach knotting from the unwanted contact, I lean back from his touch as far as I can without being completely rude. But his apology caught me so off guard, I'm still trying to process it. "Well… th-thank you," I stammer, lost in a world of confusion. "I appreciate th?—"

"But I have to say, Melody—that's your name, isn't it?" He pauses, waiting for my baffled nod of confirmation. "You are the most delectable thing I've ever seen. And just because I'm not supposed to bother you during business hours doesn't mean I wouldn't love to get inside you."

Icy terror floods my chest as humiliation flames in my cheeks. And this time, I do snatch my hand away, rising from the couch in disbelief. "Excuse me?" I demand, my voice breathy with disgust.

"Come on, love. Don't tell me you never spread those long, sexy legs for the right price," he insists, rising from the couch to follow me. "Don't you want to know what it would feel like to have a real man inside your cunt? I'd love to fill every one of your sexy little holes, and in return, I'll buy you as many pretty dresses as your heart desires. It looks like you could use a new wardrobe, some nice designer shoes…"

Fiery resentment flashes through me. Does he seriously believe I could be so easily bought? "Thanks for the offer," I snap, my tone dripping with sarcasm. "But I think I'll have to pass. I'm no one's mistress. And I don't just go spreading my legs for a designer dress."

I know his type. He loves to jump from pretty girl to pretty girl, keeping fresh eye candy on his arm with trinkets and bobs. But when the day is done, his attention span won't last long. And I know just how to make his dick go limp.

"If a man wants me, he can marry me," I challenge, adopting an air of superiority. "Otherwise, all men just talk the talk. They use women up, then leave us out in the cold to wither away. So, what do you say, Vinny? You willing to marry me to get what you want?"

My back finds the door handle as he comes up short, his eyebrows climbing nearly to his hairline in surprise. Then, a wicked grin stretches across his face. "I'll marry you right here and now, love," he promises lasciviously. But the twinkle in his eye says he's just playing along. He thinks I'm teasing.

Laughing, I roll my eyes. "You can't be serious. You know nothing about me."

He chuckles along with me, his posture shifting to something closer to relaxed, and as he crosses his arms, I know I've won. He won't be bothering me anymore.

"Well, thanks for the meeting. This has been… fun," I say, searching for my opening to leave. "I guess I'll be seeing you around?" I tease. Not likely; he'll find a new girl to start groping shortly—probably later tonight. And while I feel bad for whoever his new victim might be, I'm just glad it won't be me. Grasping the handle to the lounge, I turn it so I can slip into the hall.

"I'm sure you will," he agrees, his eyes never leaving me.

And as I pull the door closed behind me, I've never been more grateful to have made a narrow escape. I'm going to kill Kitty. She better not have known it was that Mr. Kelly who dragged me into work early for a meeting.

I missed out on precious time with my daughter—not to mention, I just got sexually harassed again by the guy who supposedly got the message loud and clear that he wasn't supposed to bother me.

Arrogant prick. Has his tactic ever worked on any girl? Or is he such a lech because no girl will have him?

What I wouldn't give to march straight to Keoghan Kelly's office and tell him exactly what his cousin just did. But I'm still unclear on how well my employer might have my back, and if I've learned one thing while working at Pearl's, it's that you don't push your luck with the boss.

Taking several deep, steadying breaths, I head toward Kitty's office, ready to give her a piece of my mind.