I would rather please you

Curtis

“Jesus Christ.”

Siren laughed at my reaction. “He had nothing to do with this.” She winked, nudging forward the timid woman beside her.

Heston had done a quick background check while Siren showed her around. Angelica St. Clair was as clean and innocent as they come. Her father was an architect until the day of his death six years ago. Her mother had been a model in her late teens and early twenties, apparently one of the most beautiful ones. That made sense. If Angelica had inherited any of her looks from her mother, it explained her beauty.

Hyacinth St. Clair had died young, when Angelica was only seven or eight. She now lived with an elderly woman. That was not the most shocking part of her background. It was her mother’s name. Hyacinth. The devil was fucking with me again. I was no saint. I had done things I wasn’t proud of, but that didn’t mean I had to be haunted by one name all my life. In fact, I had never regretted anything else. It wasn’t even a common name.

In my fucked up mind, I had almost believed Angelica was a ghost sent to torment me with that tattoo on her belly. After seeing her file, I understood why she would have a hyacinth tattooed on her. Only this time, the tattoo was the last thing I could see.

Angelica was wearing a dress I would never expect to see on her in a million years. The black material did nothing to hide the luscious curves of her body. She was trying her best not to expose any more of her creamy skin as she walked into my office with Siren now behind her. I was itching to see more but I didn’t want to make her more uncomfortable than she already was. I forced my gaze upwards to her face. To that beautiful face that, at the risk of sounding like a total asshole, I had not appreciated enough earlier because I was too distracted by parts of her body I shouldn’t be staring at.

She forced a smile between her red lipsticked lips. “Hello. I’m…”

“Diabla.” I read the name from the employee tag atop her left breast. Was this a joke? Siren giggled and snorted and I knew she was behind this.

She wasn’t wrong. Angelica was no angel. She was as alluring as sin. If she was the devil, I would kill anyone to go to hell. I had to forcefully peel my eyes off her before my brain could function again.

In response to her new stage name, she flushed. “Yes.”

“Pour me a drink.” I demanded without looking at her. Several seconds of silence passed and I knew she didn’t understand what I was saying. “That’s part of your job.”

“Of course.” She cleared her throat and sauntered towards the door, before Siren pointed her towards the mini bar in my office.

“What would you like?” She asked in a squeak of nervousness.

“Surprise me.” I challenged, finally looking at her. She looked down at herself, probably questioning how the hell she would walk around all night in those killer heels. I would have a word with Siren about it but for now, I had to know if she had any skill. We used sex appeal to make patrons willing to drain their pockets for drinks and company every night but that didn’t mean they would be pleased with zero skill. The bartenders had to be swift and graceful.

Angelica was neither. By the time she finished pouring my drink, she had spilled it twice and broken a bottle. Then she grabbed a random bottle of gin and Siren had to help her with a shake of her head.

“Will you serve drinks for her every day?” I asked Siren sternly.

Angelica finally managed to set a small tray on my desk with shaky hands.

“I think she is better suited for the pole.” Siren bit her bottom lip discreetly but I caught that. She was enjoying this way more than she should.

“I could teach her to dance. Have you seen her curves?”

“Get out!” I hissed.

Angelica recoiled and nearly tripped on her impossibly high heels.

“Not you.” I said to her and turned my gaze to Siren. “You. I don’t want to see you for the next two days.”

“Two days?” She gasped in mock shock. “You will miss me too much.”

“Make that two years.” I added. Of course, that was not going to happen even in my wildest dreams. Siren would be back before the night ended and she would taunt me about Angelica being the best choice of a wife.

She would be right, yet again. Saving a damsel in distress was a common start to relationships, especially those in Maverick’s era. I knew about Angelica’s foster grandmother’s illness from her file. It explained why she would want to work at a nightclub when she had stellar grades and had a pending application at Imperium School of Law. If I paid off the medical bill that had been her reason for coming here, she would be willing to be my wife.

Maverick would translate it as her falling in love with her saviour and me falling in love at first sight.

But I would almost rather let my family have what they craved. Angelica St. Clair was an innocent young woman, trying to navigate her way through the world and hoping to bring justice to it one day, if her career choice proved anything.

I despised innocence nearly as much as I wanted to destroy it. There was no such thing as justice in my world. There were only needs and the urge to fulfill them. It didn’t matter what had to be done as long as the goal was achieved. And well, I didn’t want to have to stare at a fucking hyacinth tattoo every day.

I didn’t realize I was staring at it again until she spoke up.

“That’s not appropriate.” She mutered.

I squinted. “What are you talking about?”

Her cheeks were nearly as red as her lipstick as she glared at me accusingly. “You’re staring at me.”

I had the strongest urge to tease her. I fought it back down when I remembered why I had sent Siren away. Hiring Angelica was a mistake. I had to get rid of her before I had any ideas about dragging her into my world. I looked up into her eyes, meeting a gaze so innocent I would never believe it if I wasn’t seeing it myself.

“Siren recommended you and I believed in her judgement. I was about to hire you.”

When her eyes dropped, I felt like shit. This is why I let Heston decide who to hire or fire. I had no idea why the hell I decided to deal with this. I had been momentarily impulsive, which was why I had to nip it in the bud while I still had the chance.

“Why did you change your mind?” She asked stubbornly, not giving up.

“You cannot even pour a drink.”

“Please, sir. I need this job. My nana needs it.” She pleaded, going off about her foster grandmother.

“It’s not about what you need. All that matters is what we would gain from hiring you.”

She was staring at me like I was heartless, showing no hint of pity when she talked about her foster grandmother’s illness.

Throwing all caution to the wind, she inched closer, forgetting all about how tiny her dress was. “I cannot pour drinks but I can dance. I can be sensual if I try.”

Maybe a tiny part of me did feel pity. Because although I had wanted her to tend bars since Heston didn’t think she had ever touched a pole in her life, I gave her some semblance of a chance.

“I’ll give you one chance,” I told her. She looked relieved even though she was trying to hide it. “If Heston takes his eyes off you for one second, you’re out.”

There. Two birds, one stone. Not only would I be able to get rid of this ticking time bomb, but I would also show her she was not made for this world. I let out a sigh of relief when I saw her expression sink. She knew it even without trying that she would not succeed. Heston had decided from the momemt they met that he didn’t like her. I didn’t know why either. Maybe he hated innocence as much as I did. Whatever it was, there would be no Diabla tomorrow.

Or so I thought. She walked to the door, but not to leave. She locked the door and turned around to face me, pulling her hair behind her and working it into a messy ponytail.

“I would rather please you.”