Behind Bars Where He Belongs

SIERRA

As the bouncers dragged the CEO toward the exit, I looked at Dante, of all people, the one who'd stepped in and rescued me. 

Santini yanked my elbow and drew me aside. 

"Really? A damn CEO? What'd you do to piss this one off, huh?" Santini demanded.

Annoyance flooded my veins. "Maybe I should have let him dry hump me on the couch. Hey, that's worth the measly two hundred bucks, right?"

Santini's eyes flickered. "Worth owing me?"

"Owe you what?" Dante cut in, his voice sharp. 

I widened my eyes. Oh no!

"I just took a shot from the bar, that's all," I blurted. 

Dante blinked. "Are you okay?"

I nodded and mentally gave myself a high-five. I massaged the tension building in my neck.

Dante kept looking at me. "Come on, you need to sit down."

Before I knew it, he reached for my hand and settled me on the couch.

"Hey, you better pay for that shot." Santini warned me.

Dante glared at him. "I'll take care of it."

Santini, as if remembering who Dante really was, straightened like someone had yanked the chain around his neck. "Okay, uh, what can we get you, Boss?"

"Brandy. Extra ice," Dante replied and returned his gaze to me. "You want water?"

I shook my head. "Nothing for me."

Dante barked at Santini. "Don't just stand there, porky, get a fucking cup of tea, chamomile or something."

I didn't even like chamomile. Still the fact that he knew I'd need something warm was oddly sweet. 

"I'm guessing your harassment department is dead on the rocks." He said to me.

That was rich, coming from the guy who once tried to grab my ass and called me names on stage. 

"Thank you," I said quietly. 

"Don't thank me, anyone, even these clowns." He gestured towards the other men who had returned to their drinks. "Would have done the same."

I shook my head. "No, they wouldn't. We're just cheap entertainment to them."

Dante didn't respond to that.

One of the servers brought our drinks. It felt awkward sitting with him; some of the girls kept glancing in our direction.

But the tea worked wonders, as I felt my nerves relaxing.

Say something. I thought.

Just apologize.

"I have to get back to work." I stood abruptly. 

He shot me a look. "After what happened?"

"It doesn't matter; I have a quota to reach for every night I perform." I replied. "Santini doesn't care about mental health."

As I started to turn away, his hand caught mine; his eyes flickered down to our joined fingers, as if he'd realized what he'd done. Then Dante pulled away fast. 

"Let me know if any guy plays a fast one on you." He said smoothly.

My chest grew warm, and so did everywhere else. Okay, why is male protectiveness suddenly hot?

"Any of you." Dante reiterated.

And the cold settled in. I gave a simple nod and searched for customers to perform for.

By two a.m., I was done for the night, changed into a blue hoodie and jeans, and slipped out the back door, along with the other girls.

"I could use some dairy-free donuts, beer, and Real Housewives." Betty said to me. "What do you say?"

I nodded. "Switch up that donut for real Mickey D burgers, and you're on."

Betty grimaced. "How is your waist still twenty-five inches from all that grease?"

"We've got some high metabolism in the family." I teased, then stopped short when I saw Dante's driver waiting by his short limo. The windows rolled down, and Dante was looking at me.

What the hell?

The driver jerked his head towards Dante. Translation? Boss wants to talk. 

Terrific.

I turned to Betty. "How about tomorrow?"

"It is tomorrow."

"Bye, Betty."

I walked towards the limo.

"You need a ride? Hop in." Dante said.

"Um, I can literally call Uber." I replied.

"It's an offer, not a suggestion." Dante said firmly. The driver opened the door.

I froze. How logical would it be to get into a Mafia-owned vehicle?

I climbed in next to Dante.

"Did you get the bail money?" He asked when the limo started to move. 

He didn't even ask where I lived. Of course he knew. Men like Dante knew where you slept.

It wasn't comforting. 

I nodded; one of his soldados had left the money in my mailbox.

"Yeah, I did. Listen, about what happened at the diner."

My mouth stayed open while Dante stared at me.

Boy, this was harder than I thought.

"Um, I promise, when I mean to pick up the bill, I keep my word." I replied. "And I'm sorry if I embarrassed you."

Dante's face twisted into disbelief. "Embarrassed? No, I handled that pretty well. It's all in the past anyway. I'm still on the part where you apologized."

I gave a nervous laugh; he didn't join in.

He leaned forward, and I could feel his hot breath on mine.

"That's good, because all that sassiness isn't attractive, Sierra." He commended.

I bristled. "Attractive!"

He frowned, and my hand flew to my lips.

"Seriously? You've got some nerve, Dante-and just when I was starting to think you were a gentleman," I snapped, catching myself. 

He broke into a laugh. "Yeah, I'm the poster boy for polite gentlemen everywhere, Sierra," He said, eyeing me

I folded my arms.

"Let me guess, Sierra, you want the full romantic dinner, movie, and dancing under the stars?" Dante said.

I scoffed. "If you think that's enough to get me into your bed, think again."

"It will happen sooner or later," he said. "Unless you want me to look elsewhere."

I looked at him. "You'd just move on?"

"Yes." He nodded, reaching to push his fingers through my hair.

A chill ran through me- not just from the thought of him with another woman, but from what it would mean if he lost interest. 

Everything I'd worked for would go down the drain. And the closest I've come? A damn decoy phone.

I wasn't ready to lose this game.

"So what do you say?" He asked, leaning forward, his hard stare melting.

I couldn't look away.

"I mean, Santini would probably have a thing to say." I murmured.

"Hmm?" He kissed my earlobe, and I sighed.

I pictured myself dancing on stage for a classier audience, not for drunks. And Dante, right where he deserved to be-behind bars. 

I could do this. 

"Yes."

His mouth captured mine at that moment. A simple kiss, yet enough to send shivers through my skin.

The limo screeched to a stop, and we pulled apart.

"Damn," Dante muttered.

"That's my stop." I said, getting out of the limo. "Good night... morning."

Then I marched up to the building, heard the limo drive away, and glanced at the laundromat on the other side of the street, just in time to see the curtain blinds snap shut.