Chapter 170

‘What?’ I blurt out in complete disbelief, half blinking as my brain catches up and half shocked into numbness. He has his eyes locked on me, standing a foot away, suffocating me with his sheer size but I stand my ground and do the only thing I can do.

I burst out laughing because he surely isn’t being serious, and this has to be the single most ridiculous thing I have ever heard in my life. Into comical hysterics so intense I instantly bend double as tears fill my eyes and struggle to breathe through snorts. It’s not the most ladylike way to laugh at your enemy, but it’s genuine and it feels good to do it right in his face. My ribs are aching with the sudden exertion and he just stands stock still, staring at me as though he doesn’t understand the joke which only makes it all the funnier.

I hear him sigh heavily as I carry on, but he still says nothing at all and I have to compose myself to be able to talk, standing upright while holding my side. I take shallow breaths to calm myself and wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, flinching at the pain from my busted face.

‘Now I know this is a joke. Nice try though. You almost had me there. What do you really want?’ I try and calm myself, more escapee tears from giggling so hard, but he is persistent in that starchy serious mood, eyes following me in a very deadpan face, standing completely still and unreadable. He doesn’t crack one tiny smile.

It’s weird just how calm and quiet he is being, for him. Especially after our little drama of minutes ago where he was chasing me around the room with a will to throttle me, and now he’s just appraising my reaction with a sombre looking cute boy frown and a weird softness around his eyes. I’m not sure I like the way he is looking at me or the drastic change of tactic which rouses suspicion. It completely sobers me as I get an inkling of something being off with him and finally right myself back to sanity. Even Alexi from the first days of knowing him was never this unaffected by me throwing laughing fits at something he said.

He was confident and commanding and had no qualms about bossing me around and telling me how things were going to go or being very verbally pissed. This version in front of me suddenly seems apprehensive, trying not to appear too intimidating, and I know somewhere in that head of his there’s a motive for how he’s being, there always is.

It’s Alexi after all!

‘You back IN my club, back AT the club. I need you to fix it.’ He swallows subtly, but I get the feeling that he is actually being serious in this and it’s not a joke at all. There’s no hint of malice or smugness from the tone or face. His demeanour … the way he’s not stopped staring at me since I turned around and is annoyingly following my every movement as though his eyes are glued to me, it all screams lack of sarcasm and every ounce truth. Alexi cannot seem to tear his focus from mine, scanning me searchingly for a real answer. Waiting for it to sink in that he is not lying and it hits me strangely.

He knows once it sinks in that his proposal is something I may want; I might actually want to sit and talk about this. I hate that he also knows it’s the one thing that can still spike my attention, even after what happened between us. That club was my baby, my heart and soul, and the thought that they have fucked it up somehow jars me—a tiny sliver of care that it’s running badly and suffering without me.

I know it’s dumb. It’s not a person or a living thing, but it was mine. I built and nurtured it and honed it to perfect running. It was something I had pride in and cared about, and he’s here because they have hurt it in some way and now it’s broken without me.

‘What’s wrong with it? What have you done?’ It’s the only thing I care about, and I’m trying so hard to ignore the sweaty, clammy feeling in my hands or the way my heart is trying to escape through my chest the longer I am exposed to his intense staring. It’s like he is trying to pick me apart. Aware with every passing second that it’s just him and me alone finally. Mico is gone and the carpenter has disappeared back out into the hallway.

I hate that I look like a homeless wench from the back woods, and he looks, well, like him. Tailored, groomed, clean-shaven and sexy as hell, dare I admit it. Talk about feeling inferior and unprepared for a little cosy business talk. It gives him the upper hand.

I fucking hate him.

‘It’s failing … it’s not the same. Clientele is dropping off and it’s causing me nothing but headaches in the running. It’s losing money like crazy.’

Alexi finally releases that captive hold he has on me and walks away to sit down on the now cleared couch of the room behind us. Upside to lobbing it all at him, I guess. He walks to it and sits, leaning forward to put his elbows on his knees and watches me in a very casual pose more befitting Gino than him. I think he expects me to follow as though we are really going to talk this out.

I, however, am not relaxing around this demon just yet; I cross my arms across my chest and stay exactly where I am … not trusting him, ever again. I would rather stick pokers in my eyes than believe anything he says to me.

‘Firstly, you spent a great amount of effort evicting me from that same club. You did everything to get rid of me and now you’re here expecting me to just forgive and forget and crawl back?’ I point out moodily, tone snippy and chin up. I may not look like the old brassy redhead, but she still lives inside me. Alexi brings her out in crazy fashion!

‘Things are different,’ he answers calmly, giving nothing away, and I just furrow my brow.

‘Hmm … Secondly, why would I come back to such job insecurity a second time? Dependent on your moods I could be out on my arse again just as quickly, as soon as I sort it out.’ I spit it a little aggressively this time, neither of us moving from our stand-off positions.

‘I would make sure you had job security … a contract prohibiting me from doing it again.’ His eyes drop to the floor for a second and I just narrow my gaze as I watch him. Looking for his tells and mannerisms to get a clue as to what’s going on in that wicked brain; I see nothing.

‘There’s no one else in New York with my skill set, probably better, who can come be your skivvy?’ I question seriously; pretty sure that I am not the only capable one.

‘I don’t want anyone else. You built it, you made it work, and it has you all over it. Why would I choose someone else to fix what you can fix? It’s limping … I need you to patch it back up.’ Alexi comes back to settle those pale greys on me studiously and I stare right back undeterred, pushing all those overwhelming feelings down deep. Unable to decipher if they are for him or the topic, but I am not backing down from trying to eat into his head with my own penetrative gaze the way he is doing to me.

‘You left that second-grade classless hoe to run things, didn’t you? What was her name? Joyce?’ Sarcasm is back to being my friend and his little sigh tells me he is still not immune to my sass.