Four Walls (Book One) ✔️

Chapter Twenty-Nine

I smooth out the wrinkles in my sequined black dress and force a smile. Slowly, I approach the podium where a middle-aged couple is waiting for me. The man, with his combed back gray hair and pearly white smile, looks at me with ravenous eyes, like he hasn't eaten in days and I'm a steak fresh off the grill. The woman adjacent to him, presumably his wife, exhales an audible sigh before elbowing him in the ribs.

"Welcome to Castelul," I greet them. "May I see your membership IDs?"

They both oblige. I carefully examine the cards to ensure they're not counterfeit and guide them to a table on the main floor.

"Actually," the man interjects, "we were hoping we could be seated in the VIP room tonight."

"Are you VIP members?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Take a seat. Let me talk to Mr. Bishop," I tell them. I don't know what's so special about the surreptitious VIP room, as I have yet to see it for myself, but what I do know is this: no one goes in there without Bradley Bishop's explicit permission.

The couple obeys. I stride toward my boss' office, knock on the metal door, and wait until I hear a deep "Come in!" before turning the knob and allowing myself entrance.

"Layla! Everything okay out there?" he asks, not looking up from his stack of paperwork.

"There's a couple wondering how to become VIP members. I told them they needed to discuss it with you."

"Ah, very well. Lead me to them."

I take Bradley to their table and excuse myself so they can talk in private. As curious as I am about the VIP room, I know better than to eavesdrop. Bradley's been good to me, and the last thing I want to do is disrespect him.

All summer, I've worked at both Gabby's Diner and Castelul. Between the two jobs, I haven't had time to do anything for myself, which is both a curse and a blessing. I can't remember the last time I hung out with Damian or Jessica for more than an hour. But I also can't remember the last time I saw Hank.

Sometimes, you have to take the bad with the good.

At the podium, I see a girl with long crimson hair, bright blue eyes, and a mischievous smile on her face. The word "chaos" immediately comes to mind. Even from across the room, I can tell she's trouble.

I strut toward her and ask for her membership ID. She responds with a dramatic roll of her crystal eyes, as if my request has somehow offended her.

"My name is Taisley," she says matter-of-factly. "Taisley Bishop."

"Oh," I murmur, blushing a shade of red that's darker than her scarlet locks. "You're Bradley's daughter."

"The one and only." She purses her glossy lips. "And you must be Layla, right?"

I can't hide my astonishment. "He's told you about me?"

"A bit," she replies with a shrug. "He said he hired you before the club was even up and running. You must be special."

I roll my eyes. "Trust me, I'm not."

Behind me, I hear my boss' quick but delicate footsteps. He squeezes past me and pulls his teenage daughter into a hug, lifting her half a foot off the ground.

"Oh, Daddy!" Taisley squeals. "I've missed you! Please never make me go to Mum's again."

"If it were up to me, you'd never leave my side," Bradley says, still embracing her. He turns to me and flashes a charming smile. "Ah, Layla, I see you've met the light of my life, Taisley."