Callan helped me take out the butt plug in the shower before he drove me home later that morning. I'd blushed the entire time, but I didn't say a word as he pulled it out. As I got out of the car, Callan asked me what time I was done with my shift so he could inform Gideon on when he should pick me up. He'd also get him to text me beforehand.

When I got home, an envelope was on the floor. It had been pushed in through the crack under the door. Opening it, I found the results for the STD tests I'd taken. No surprise, they all were negative. What I found odd, though, was getting the results on the weekend. Rich people's life were so strange.

Now I was stress eating enough to put me in a food coma, which wasn't that bad of an idea. I should definitely sleep before my shift, knowing I would probably not be going to bed right after my shift–yeah, I might be going to bed, but I wouldn't be there to sleep.

Having made up my mind, I threw the last of the spaghetti and meatballs in the trash after eating enough for two and made my way to the bed.

Sleep didn't come easy, but when it did, I was absolutely gone to the world. It wasn't until several hours later, when my alarm rang, that I woke up. I guess I needed that more than I realized. Between yesterday and the constant nerves I had today, I'd been exhausted.

Euphoria's uniform was made of comfortable cotton but looked like those the girls wore on Hooters. Even with how sexist it obviously was, I still preferred this to the café's dress–at least this outfit didn't itch with each movement I made. I put on black yoga pants over the uniform, wanting to stay covered until I was at Euphoria.

I put my hair in a high ponytail and did my makeup dark and sexy; I got to get my tips somehow. I learned as soon as I started working as a bartender that it helped with getting tips, which was just so wrong. Tips should be for giving a good service, not because we looked a certain way.

Instead of taking the usual raggedy coat, I grabbed the new one I'd gotten from Callan. I hated to accept the things they were giving me, but it felt even worse to let their good intentions hang in a closet collecting dust.

Lastly, I grabbed my bag containing the heels I would wear at work–they hurt like a bitch, which was why I always had on my sneakers until the very last minute. I also took with me the envelope with the results I'd gotten.

The bus trip went by fast, having Tik Tok to keep me company. I probably laughed the entire ride–except for that one video that made me cry instead.

Mark was in his office with his door open when I walked past to get to the locker room. I didn't think he'd seen me until I heard him call me to him.

"Yes?" I asked as I backtracked back to his door, already stressed. The bus had been several minutes late, and it wasn't long until the doors would open.

"How've your weeks been?" He looked up at me, discreetly taking in my body in the outfit, thinking I wouldn't notice him doing so. His brown hair was just as carefully styled as always, with longer hair on the top swiped back, and the sides were shorter.

Leaning against the doorway, I answered, "It's been good. What about yours?" Frankly, I just wanted to get to work, but he'd always been kind to me, and I didn't want to be rude in return.

"Yeah, it's been okay. We've missed you at work, though," Mark said and looked at the watch on his wrist. "Anyways, you should probably get ready. I'll wait for you after work, and I can follow you to the bus stop."

Sometimes I wondered why he'd always been like this with me, making sure I got home safely when we had many other girls working here. Though, I had to admit he did make me feel safe.

"That's okay, I have someone picking me up," I informed him. I couldn't help the blush creeping up my cheeks as I thought about Gideon coming to get me.

"Oh?" Mark's eyes widened. "A friend of yours?" He looked hopeful. As much as I wasn't interested in him and had never given him any indication that I was, I sucked at being direct. I didn't want to hurt his feelings. Seeing this as a way to let him down gently, I shook my head.

"It's a guy I'm dating," I said, and sensing the suffocating silence, I added, "I should get to work. See you later?"

Mark's face was stone-still like he was making sure I didn't see any emotions. I let out a silent breath of relief when he nodded, and I continued down the hall to the lockers. At least now, he knew exactly where we were standing with each other.

The woman working the bar tonight wasn't one I knew very well; all I knew was that she's name was Ruby, and she was a single mother of one. Euphoria was always busy, and we never had time to be social, unless it was with our customers.

Bartending was a great way to distract me from thinking about tonight, though, every second I had to myself, those thoughts and wonderings resurfaced. How would he be? How would he act? Callan and Mateo had shown exactly how dominant they were. Was he the same as them? I had a feeling he was even more so, and I couldn't wait to find out.

My phone vibrating in the single back pocket forced me out of my mind. Seeing that I didn't have any customers at the moment, I snatched it up and read the text from an unknown number.

Callan said you were done with your shift at 5 AM. Send me your location, and I'll wait outside when you're done. G.

That must've been from Gideon, no doubt. As I looked up, I saw a customer walk up to the bar. Answering Gideon back quickly, I stuffed the phone back in the pocket and took the woman's drink order. I made sure to take payment before I started making it.

After I'd learned the ingredients of every drink we offered, it all became automatic. I didn't need to think as I mixed together a Cosmopolitan. A bit of vodka, triple sec, cranberry juice, and sweetened lime, and it was all done. I knew other bars and nightclubs often poured less vodka than what the drink usually needed to save more money, but Euphoria never did anything half-measured. We gave the customers exactly what they paid for–which we should given the insane prices we had.

In the middle of handing the drink to the woman, I froze and almost lost the glass in the process–it was only luck that I didn't. My skin prickled with awareness, and I knew that only three men caused me to react like this.

Standing a little to the side of the bar was one person I thought I'd only see when my shift was finished.

Gideon was one massive mountain of a man. If that wasn't terrifying enough, the angry face of his should be.

I didn't see the woman walking away or hear another man yell for my attention so I could serve him. My only focus was Gideon.

"W-what are you doing here?" I stammered as he stalked towards me. My mind screamed for me to run away from the danger in his predatory movements, but I didn't. I stayed put, more so because I seriously couldn't move. His eyes held me captive.

He didn't say a word as he grabbed my arm and dragged me through the opening of the bar. My feet stumbled as I tried keeping up with his long stride. He led me to a hallway I'd never been in before and wrenched open a door at the end of the hall, pushing me inside.

His behavior made me jittery and nervous. When he closed the door behind him and locked it, I backed away. It wasn't that I was scared he'd hurt me–though, I was starting to have second guesses about that–I just acted out of instincts.

I gasped as he turned his focus purely on me. He'd been angry ever since I'd met him, but he wasn't angry now. No, he was fucking pissed. The air around him was his to command, and right now, it was as if he'd sucked it all from the room.

"What. The. Hell. Are. You. Doing. In. My. Club?" He asked, emphasizing each word that came out of his mouth. No matter how quietly he spoke, it didn't diminish the anger or strength in them.

Blinking, I tried to answer, but my mouth was too dry and my mind too shocked to say anything at all. What did he mean by his club?