Freed by You (2 page)

Mind you, I had never behaved in the same way that many other females often did; I had never reacted to a man the way I had just reacted to this one. No man had ever taken my breath away just by looking at me, the way this one just had.
Why did I feel so uneasy around
him?
And most importantly,
who the hell did he think he was?

“Ryan? Who was that?” I asked quietly, my nerves evident in my weakened voice.

“Ah, that was
The
Mr Scott, Emily. He owns this club so, technically speaking, he’s your boss,” he stated matter-of-factly. “Of course, technically speaking, he’s also my boss but I like to think that I make the decisions around here.” He snorted to himself and lifted his head and shoulders high.

Wow!
He didn’t look any older than my age, yet this entire place was
his
?

“How did he end up with a place like this? He barely looks old enough to be in here, let alone own it!” My astonishment was evident in my tone as I spoke, my voice sounding much higher than its usual key.

“He started building his empire when he was barely a teen, Emily. He’s twenty-eight now so he’s had a good few years at it. He’s got his head screwed on, that one.”

“So, I take it I will be unemployed by morning then?” I asked him sarcastically, trying to hide the desperation in my voice.

“You don’t need to worry, Emily, he’s always in a bad mood, don’t take it personally.”

When I glanced up at Ryan he was gazing down at me with a concerned, almost sympathetic expression fixed on his face. I thought I could grow to be good friends with Ryan. He seemed kind and gentle, but at the same time he was strong and masculine looking on the outside. His jet black hair emphasised the blue of his slightly squinted eyes. He had tanned skin and I wondered briefly if this was natural or if he had recently been somewhere exotic. He had a strong, squared jaw which was coated in fine stubble, maybe a few days of growth. I liked stubble on a man; I’d always thought it made a man look ruggedly sexy, like a man should be. Although, I wouldn’t really describe Ryan as sexy, he was very handsome but in more of a cute, cuddly kind of way – despite the manly stubble.  

“He’s rarely here on official matters anyway so you shouldn’t bump into him again anytime soon,” Ryan assured me.

“I hope you’re right,” I replied, although for reasons unbeknown to me, the thought of not bumping into Mr Scott actually disappointed me a little.
Why has this man affected me quite so much?

“Here we go!” Ryan beamed at me as he stretched his long arm forward, reaching for the handle on one of two doors. I sucked in a deep breath and prayed that God would have mercy on me and allow me to get through the night without any more catastrophes.

As I stepped through the door my mouth dropped open.

“Wow!” My memory had not done justice to what I saw before me.

The smell of strong alcohol, mixed with the same citrus scent I had noted in the office, hit me instantly. My eyes were drawn to the expansive lettering spread widely across the top of the adjacent wall, reading
The Lounge
. Each letter joined to the last in a show of brilliant illuminating purple that slowly morphed into purple-blue, then to blue and then returned to purple.

Spaced evenly around the edges of the vast open space were separated booths, each made up of plush purple, velvet sofas, each in the shape of a squared horseshoe. In the centre of each luxurious den stood a large table, each one matching the next with a large glistening glass top and brushed steel legs. Moulded beneath the glass of each table were small, rounded spotlights, all morphing slowly from purple to purple-blue, to blue, then to purple again, in an almost sensual rhythm. In the centre of the vast space of dark, perfectly polished wooden floors stood the magnificent bar area. This was like nothing I had ever seen before. The exterior was a solid sheet of what looked like brushed steel, matching that of the booths’ tables, and upon that were rows of lighted tubes, each travelling horizontally around the circumference of the bar stand, and spaced roughly three inches apart, I guessed. Each tube was a brilliant fluorescent purple, again changing to purple-blue, to blue and then to purple again in perfect synchronisation with the surrounding tables. The bar was topped with the same glistening sheet of thick, solid glass which created a masterpiece of the large oval shaped bar. Placed evenly within the glass were the same small spotlights that morphed simultaneously. In the centre of the oval was a smaller oval that housed rows upon rows of upturned bottles in fibre optics and liquor bottles of various sorts. Situated underneath these were perfectly aligned rows of sparkling glasses, some tall and rectangular, some short and squared, some long stemmed with various shaped heads. Cocktail glasses, I concluded.

I tore my gaze away from the exquisite site before me as I noticed a tall blonde heading in my direction, her bright smile portraying a set of perfectly aligned, gleaming white teeth.

“Hi, you must be Emily, I’m Natalie.” She introduced herself whilst leaning in to my left side to plant a pecking kiss on my cheek.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you, Natalie.” I accepted her polite kiss and pulled away quickly as I felt my cheeks redden
. Did people really greet each other with kisses these days?

“So, what do you think?” She waved her hands around her as she spoke, as if displaying the view for me.

“It’s incredible!” I exclaimed. “I’m actually speechless, which is a first!” That, of course, was a lie as I was often rendered speechless, more through overwhelming shyness than anything else but I hoped by acting confidently I could gain some respect from my fellow colleagues and who knows, maybe even a friend. I had to fight hard against the nerves that were threatening to reveal themselves in my voice.

“I’m the bar supervisor so you’ll be shadowing me tonight and I’ll make sure you’re confident in the running of things here before I let you loose on any punters.” She beamed her brilliant smile at me again. “Follow me and you’ll do just fine.”

I nodded in agreement and turned to thank Ryan before he disappeared back through the door.

Natalie was very welcoming, she spoke politely and explained every action with great detail as to what she was doing and why she was doing it. And, she was absolutely stunning. She had straight, waist length hair that was a brilliant, almost white blonde. She had a pale, flawless complexion and wore plenty of rose pink blusher that exaggerated her prominent, high cheekbones. Her piercing green eyes looked familiar somehow but I couldn’t place her face as being one that I had seen before. These eyes were perfectly made up with shimmering brown and gold shadows and a thick band of black liner. Her lashes were long and full, and perfectly curled. I made a mental note to make more of an effort before my next shift, if there was to be a next.

Much to my surprise, the entire night ran smoothly. Natalie reeled off the contents of each exotic cocktail to me as she served her own punters and I was extremely grateful for her help – after all, she could have just left me to get on with it myself, that would definitely have left me looking stupid, but instead she spent the evening paying an equal amount of attention to my drinks’ orders as she had her own.

There were six female bar staff in total, me included. Each one as equally as beautiful as the next, myself not included. Gemma was bordering on being annoyingly friendly; I had been startled on numerous occasions as she had bounced up behind me and spun me into a friendly squeeze with no prior warning, this being her way of praising me when I had gotten the ingredients of a cocktail correct without any outside help.

As it neared midnight I began to feel the strain on my burning soles. Samantha’s boots had seemed like a good idea at the time but now I was painfully reminded of why I didn’t wear high heels often.

No doubt noticing what must have been a pained expression on my face, Natalie approached me.

“Are you okay, Hun?” She placed a slender hand on my shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“Is it that obvious?” I winced. “These boots seemed like a good idea at the time.” I smiled shyly, looking down at my feet and wiggling my toes to ease the crushing sensation.

“Take ten minutes, I can cover you here.” As she spoke she grasped both of my shoulders and began turning me in the direction of the door.

“Thanks,” I said, walking less than elegantly as I exited the bar.

I made my way around the edge of the dancing area so as not to attract too much attention to myself as I headed for the bathroom.

I re-tied my hair and stared into the ornate mirror to reapply my rosé-tinted lip gloss. The face staring back at me looked confident and sure. My rounded, marbled blue eyes looked fresh and alive although I felt so drained I was sure they should be showing the signs of fatigue by now. I pouted ridiculously as I studied my appearance in my reflection. I had always done this but had no idea why and it wasn’t something I could control, my lips automatically took on a pouting pose whenever I concentrated on anything whether it was involving a mirror or not. This only exaggerated the flaw in my lips. My top lip was not in proportion with the bottom, it was a fraction larger than the bottom and protruded slightly more but I had never allowed it to bother me much. I simply made the best of what I had and never wished for more.

As I pinched my cheeks slightly to make up for my lack of blusher, I noticed loud snuffling sounds coming from a locked cubicle behind me. I leaned closer and could make out the sounds of a woman’s sobs.

“Hello? Are you okay?” I called out. There was no answer but the sobs grew louder. “My name’s Emily, I work here, is everything alright?”  My concern was evident in my voice as I spoke. I had always hated to see anyone crying, it upset me considerably, though I could never understand how even a complete strangers’ tears could affect my emotions the way they did.

“Hello? Please come out, I just want to be sure that you’re okay,” I pleaded.

I heard a sharp click as the door was unlatched and waited eagerly as it opened at a painfully delayed pace.

The woman that emerged from the cubicle was clearly deeply upset. What I’m sure was once perfectly applied mascara was now streaked in thick black lines down her cheeks and tears streamed down continuously. She wiped at her reddened nose with a screwed up tissue and snorted – less than elegantly.

“Are you okay? What’s happened?”

“This bloody place happened and the bastards that occupy it, that’s what!” Her voice shook uncontrollably as her cries rattled through her chest.

“Will you tell me why you’re so upset? I work here so if it’s something that's happened here I might be able to help.”

“Why would you want to help someone like me? I obviously ask for it coming to a place like this, dressed like this!”

My eyes involuntarily moved up and down her slender frame as she waved a shaking hand down the length of her dress. She was dressed quite provocatively – I’m not going to lie – in a tightly stretched, short red dress with a halter neck fastening. I could see in her reflection in the mirror behind her that the dress didn’t have a back to it, leaving her entire back, right down to the top of her buttocks, exposed. It didn’t leave much to the imagination but, all the same, that didn’t mean she was asking for anything, in my opinion.

“What do you mean? What did you ask for?” I was even more eager now to find out why this woman was so distraught
. Had somebody hurt her? Had somebody touched her?
I winced at the latter thought.

“It’s no big deal, really, I’m fine!” she began. I wasn’t sure who she was trying convince, me or herself. “Just some sleazebag trying it on, that’s all. But, what can I expect, I suppose?” Her chest heaved again as another wave of loud sobs escaped.

“You can expect to be treated with some respect, that’s what!” I was almost shouting at her now; I couldn’t stand the thought of this woman excusing a man from taking advantage of her just because she was wearing a short dress. Although, of course, I had no idea whether that was what had happened, but I was assuming that was the case and it sickened me.

“Treated with respect?” She threw her head back as a dramatically false laugh replaced her tears. “In a place like this?”

“Especially in a place like this! The members here are supposed to be respectable individuals!”

“From that, I can only assume that you’re new here. No one on that list of theirs is respectable. The men come here because it makes them feel important, they’re respected if they’re on such an exclusive guest list, but in reality they’re here to pick up women. Disgusting, shameless women like me who come here dressed like a tart on the prowl for a rich and handsome bachelor, and then dare to cry when they’re treated like a tart!” She was ranting now and becoming visibly more upset.

“You’re not disgusting or shameless because of the clothes you wear!” I interrupted. “That doesn’t give any man the right to treat you wrongly! What the hell happened?” I was losing my patience now, if someone had touched her – which I was assuming they had – how can she justify that and truly believe that she deserved it? I found the thought repulsive.

“I was talking to a guy at the bar, he brought me a drink and he seemed nice. When I excused myself to come to the bathroom he followed me. He said he’d never, what were his words, ‘fucked a woman in these bathrooms before’. I told him he wasn’t going to tonight either and he slammed me against the wall and put his hand up my skirt. I’m sure you don’t need those details.” She explained calmly as if she were talking about the weather, her voice no longer revealing her distress.

“That’s disgusting!” I hissed. I actually felt physically sick
. How dare he?
  “Come with me,” I said whilst circling her wrist with my fingers. “He’s not going to get away with this.”

“Of course he is, there’s no point in reporting him. Things like this happen all the time in here. I’m not the first and I certainly won’t be the last.”

“You will if I’ve got anything to do with it,” I said through gritted teeth as I pulled her through the door.