Dangerously Delicious

40.

"You're making a mistake, child," her mother said to her. Dressed in cream slacks and light pink cardigan Eve Gordon looked younger than her age. Chantale always saw her mother as an elegant wealthy woman. not fit for the situation they were in. With age, her beauty grew, in which she too inherited. The subtle grace, striking features, and stubborn nature. 

"He's above my station. What I need is a typical 9-5 job guy, who will keep things low key. Michael and his 'friends' included are public figures. Anyone can do a search on my background and put it out there. It won't be fair to you nor Chase to have that humiliation at our door. I have my son to protect," Chantale countered, giving herself one last look in the mirror.

"You underestimate that boy of yours. He knows what you went through to give him clean clothes and books for school. He's not blind to the real world. Once upon a time, exotic dancers were headliners, gracing magazines and late-night channels. Society changed and anything pertaining to sex has been censored. You have a job, that's all that matters. You don't even do shows anymore," Eve argued.

"Mom. Not now. I'm already late," Chantale said nervously passing her hand over the blue long sleeve chiffon bodycon dress.

"You're an hour early. You're avoiding him."

She looked over her shoulder, checking to see if her son was approaching. He was planning his outfit for his afternoon with Michael and playing with the iPhone and iWatch that were left for him last night. He wanted to be just like Michael. Suave and successful. "No. I'm not," she protested. Her mother turned to look out the window where one can see clean streets, neighborhood joggers and a car without loud music blasting out its windows. She loved their quaint home and felt proud she provided for them, and that's how it's going to be. Even if she has to work with her future ex. 

"Chase. I'm leaving. Mom, this is the right thing." She said the last part lowly before heading out the door and rushing to her car. The drive to the gentleman's club went by too quickly, it didn't give her enough time to think of the words to tell Michael or gather the strength to contact him. There were no calls or messages from him which she expected because that's the type of guy he is. He doesn't hover nor anger quickly. An inkling in her did wish he did hover or broke down and called her. "Don't go there," she whispered to herself.
Turning onto the side street which led to the employee's parking lot, she took note of the three dark expensive-looking 4WD Jeeps at the far end of the parking lot. Her heart began to thump louder than normal. It couldn't be, Mr. Delacourde just woke up, he couldn't be here at the club. Didn't he say, Michael was the new owner? A frown now marred her face. Who else will be authorized to be here? 
Using her key, she entered the security code and entered. It was safe to say she was the only employee who arrived early. Walking in a few steps into the wide hall, she came to a stop when she saw a man dressed in black standing at the door that led to the upstairs offices. 

"Miss Gordon," he greeted with a slight of his head before opening the door. "The boss will like to see you after you have settled," he added.

"T-Thank you." The guards that kept watch on the club and accompanied Michael and the Delacourdes has always made her uncomfortable. Their stoic faces, muscled body, and guns at their sides always made her conscious of her movements. 'Harmless until necessary.' Michael once explained to her with a sly smile. She always thought that the high powered men, with armed guards and security which put the Secret Service to shame, were more than they seem. The girls and herself always gossiped about their boss being in the mob but it was all for fun, then the attack. Chantale wasn't told a lot but she had her suspicions.

"Mr. Humphrey?" she innocently asked.

The man gave her a slow grin, "Higher," was all he said, motioning her to proceed. Her mind whirled to the only two candidates who can be higher than Michael, then it hit her. Arianna Lincoln. Is she really higher than Michael? She's just the fiance of the big boss. Does she have weight in their business? Opening her office, she sat behind her desk, trying to compose herself. She was going to be face to face with her boyfriend's gorgeous ex. The woman was intimidating. From seeing her so sleek and classy by Mr. Delacourde's side and her pristine beauty in the hospital, Chantale couldn't help but be jealous. Any woman would be. That worthless insecure feeling clutched at her chest, making her breathing come onto pants. "Calm down. Probably came to collect papers or supervise," she said to herself. Gathering her clipboard and a pen, she left her office to make the walk to the large office down the hall where two guards stood. One talked into an earpiece upon seeing her approach, the click of the door was loud to her ears. Nodding her thanks, she walked through the doorway with her head held high ready to face the woman who once had Michael's heart.