King of Hearts
Page 38
“Okay, just give me two minutes, then,” I said, finally breaking the silence and picking up my dress. King nodded, his eyes lingering on my bare thighs as I turned and went inside the bathroom.
Not helping, Oliver.
I wouldn’t have time to put on makeup, so I guessed the au naturel look was going to have to do. I also wore ballet flats instead of heels. I had just enough time to give my appearance one last perusal in the mirror. I looked fine, definitely not business fancy, but fine nonetheless. I realised just how much taller King was than me when I stepped outside and stood before him without any heels on. He glanced down, eyes tender, and I wondered if he was noticing the same thing.
He shook his head as though to clear his thoughts, and I busied myself. Grabbing the contracts we needed for the meeting, I shoved them in my handbag and allowed King to lead me out the door. We took the elevator down to the lobby, King resting his hand on the small of my back for a moment. It reminded me of my first morning at the office, when he’d touched me in a similar way. It had confused me then. Now I knew it was intentional. I thought that maybe King was a man who enjoyed pushing the boundaries of his own willpower.
A car provided by Mr Hirota was waiting for us outside the hotel. King was busy working on his tablet during the drive, while I enjoyed the passing scenery. I got to see a few cool ruins and even the Coliseum before we entered a busy district full of bars and restaurants. Then we stopped in front of what was very clearly a strip club.
King glanced out the window, did an almost comical double take, then swore under his breath before letting his head fall back against the headrest. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
A small moment of quiet elapsed, and I couldn’t help it — I laughed. King turned to face me, his eyes narrowed, but I could tell from the set of his mouth that he was resisting a smile.
“This isn’t funny, Alexis.”
“Oh, come on,” I said. “You have to admit, it’s a little bit funny. I feel like I’m in some gangster film and we’re about to meet with a scary mob boss.”
I expected my joke to make him laugh. Unfortunately, it seemed to have the opposite effect. His expression grew serious and he turned away, clearing his throat. The driver emerged from the front of the car and came around to open my door. Kind of fancy behaviour for someone who was essentially dropping us off at a titty bar.
“Why, thank you, sir,” I said to the driver in a humorous tone. It got a tiny smile out of King, which was something at least. I liked that I could still amuse him even when he was in a decidedly dour mood. As we approached the entrance, King slid his arm through mine. “You stick close to me tonight, Alexis.”
“Why?” I asked, curious.
“Because,” he answered low, “if Mr Hirota is willing to do business in a place like this, then I worry how he might behave with a woman who looks like you.”
I chuckled and deadpanned, “Tell me about it. Wherever I go, I’m constantly terrorised by men getting spontaneous erections around me. It’s such a chore being a sex bomb.”
Again, King appeared to be fighting his urge to laugh. In the end, his serious side won out, and I gave in. “I’m joking. And don’t worry — I’ll stick to you like glue, Oliver.”
He gave me a warm look, and then we were entering the darkness of the booby cave. Okay, I’ll stop. Nudity just made me giddy like a five-year-old. A scantily clad woman greeted us and led us to a VIP section at the back of the club. All the while I was wondering if this was still going to be a business “dinner.” I was far from stuck up, but the idea of eating food prepared in a strip club just didn’t float my boat. Yeah, I was definitely going to wait until we got back to the hotel, and then I’d be making one hell of an order to room service. What with all the travelling, I’d hardly had the chance to eat all day.
It was kind of funny that I paid more attention to the topless dancing ladies up on the stage than King did. Call it morbid fascination. I knew King was slightly ticked off about the venue, but it probably wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. I hate to stereotype, but businessmen liked to look at boobs. It was a known fact.
In the VIP section there were a few more dancing ladies and a large table where several men sat. I immediately recognised Mr Hirota as the Japanese guy in the white suit, black shirt, and white tie. A white suit! How oh how was I going to keep from commenting on that?
Mr Hirota immediately stood when he saw King, holding out his hand for a shake. King took it, and the two exchanged the usual pleasantries.
“This is my assistant, Alexis Clark,” said King, distracting me from the glare of the white suit and ushering me forward.
“Alexis, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” said Mr Hirota while giving me a quick once-over.
“Likewise, Mr Hirota.”
He grinned. “Please, call me Kei.”
We sat, and the woman who’d greeted us at the door came and asked if we’d like any drinks. King requested a Scotch, and I just went with orange juice. Somehow, I got the feeling this wasn’t a scenario I wanted to get drunk in. Knowing me, I’d end up doing something to embarrass myself. Even though it was a strip club, I was there in a professional capacity, so I needed to act like it.
“How was your flight, Oliver?” Mr Hirota asked.
“It was fine,” King replied smoothly.
The woman returned with our drinks, and King picked his up, bringing it to his lips for a sip. I took in my surroundings, trying not to be weirded out by the tanned woman shaking her hips on a stage just shy of the table. She had golden tassels on her nipples and bright purple lipstick. Man, I couldn’t wait to get home and tell Karla all about this.
Not helping, Oliver.
I wouldn’t have time to put on makeup, so I guessed the au naturel look was going to have to do. I also wore ballet flats instead of heels. I had just enough time to give my appearance one last perusal in the mirror. I looked fine, definitely not business fancy, but fine nonetheless. I realised just how much taller King was than me when I stepped outside and stood before him without any heels on. He glanced down, eyes tender, and I wondered if he was noticing the same thing.
He shook his head as though to clear his thoughts, and I busied myself. Grabbing the contracts we needed for the meeting, I shoved them in my handbag and allowed King to lead me out the door. We took the elevator down to the lobby, King resting his hand on the small of my back for a moment. It reminded me of my first morning at the office, when he’d touched me in a similar way. It had confused me then. Now I knew it was intentional. I thought that maybe King was a man who enjoyed pushing the boundaries of his own willpower.
A car provided by Mr Hirota was waiting for us outside the hotel. King was busy working on his tablet during the drive, while I enjoyed the passing scenery. I got to see a few cool ruins and even the Coliseum before we entered a busy district full of bars and restaurants. Then we stopped in front of what was very clearly a strip club.
King glanced out the window, did an almost comical double take, then swore under his breath before letting his head fall back against the headrest. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.”
A small moment of quiet elapsed, and I couldn’t help it — I laughed. King turned to face me, his eyes narrowed, but I could tell from the set of his mouth that he was resisting a smile.
“This isn’t funny, Alexis.”
“Oh, come on,” I said. “You have to admit, it’s a little bit funny. I feel like I’m in some gangster film and we’re about to meet with a scary mob boss.”
I expected my joke to make him laugh. Unfortunately, it seemed to have the opposite effect. His expression grew serious and he turned away, clearing his throat. The driver emerged from the front of the car and came around to open my door. Kind of fancy behaviour for someone who was essentially dropping us off at a titty bar.
“Why, thank you, sir,” I said to the driver in a humorous tone. It got a tiny smile out of King, which was something at least. I liked that I could still amuse him even when he was in a decidedly dour mood. As we approached the entrance, King slid his arm through mine. “You stick close to me tonight, Alexis.”
“Why?” I asked, curious.
“Because,” he answered low, “if Mr Hirota is willing to do business in a place like this, then I worry how he might behave with a woman who looks like you.”
I chuckled and deadpanned, “Tell me about it. Wherever I go, I’m constantly terrorised by men getting spontaneous erections around me. It’s such a chore being a sex bomb.”
Again, King appeared to be fighting his urge to laugh. In the end, his serious side won out, and I gave in. “I’m joking. And don’t worry — I’ll stick to you like glue, Oliver.”
He gave me a warm look, and then we were entering the darkness of the booby cave. Okay, I’ll stop. Nudity just made me giddy like a five-year-old. A scantily clad woman greeted us and led us to a VIP section at the back of the club. All the while I was wondering if this was still going to be a business “dinner.” I was far from stuck up, but the idea of eating food prepared in a strip club just didn’t float my boat. Yeah, I was definitely going to wait until we got back to the hotel, and then I’d be making one hell of an order to room service. What with all the travelling, I’d hardly had the chance to eat all day.
It was kind of funny that I paid more attention to the topless dancing ladies up on the stage than King did. Call it morbid fascination. I knew King was slightly ticked off about the venue, but it probably wasn’t the first time something like this had happened. I hate to stereotype, but businessmen liked to look at boobs. It was a known fact.
In the VIP section there were a few more dancing ladies and a large table where several men sat. I immediately recognised Mr Hirota as the Japanese guy in the white suit, black shirt, and white tie. A white suit! How oh how was I going to keep from commenting on that?
Mr Hirota immediately stood when he saw King, holding out his hand for a shake. King took it, and the two exchanged the usual pleasantries.
“This is my assistant, Alexis Clark,” said King, distracting me from the glare of the white suit and ushering me forward.
“Alexis, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” said Mr Hirota while giving me a quick once-over.
“Likewise, Mr Hirota.”
He grinned. “Please, call me Kei.”
We sat, and the woman who’d greeted us at the door came and asked if we’d like any drinks. King requested a Scotch, and I just went with orange juice. Somehow, I got the feeling this wasn’t a scenario I wanted to get drunk in. Knowing me, I’d end up doing something to embarrass myself. Even though it was a strip club, I was there in a professional capacity, so I needed to act like it.
“How was your flight, Oliver?” Mr Hirota asked.
“It was fine,” King replied smoothly.
The woman returned with our drinks, and King picked his up, bringing it to his lips for a sip. I took in my surroundings, trying not to be weirded out by the tanned woman shaking her hips on a stage just shy of the table. She had golden tassels on her nipples and bright purple lipstick. Man, I couldn’t wait to get home and tell Karla all about this.
