The next morning, Delilah had to practically drag her ass into work. It was a long sleepless night. Her dreams were plagued by Big Paulie's lifeless gaze, staring unseeingly up at her. She just wanted to go in, work, and go home. The last thing she wanted to do was have to see Mr. J again. As she went through the motions she didn't even notice that Donovan's eyes were practically glued to her all night.
"You alright?" Donovan asked, his voice full of genuine concern.
"Hmm?" She lifted her gaze from the glass in her hand to his face and the circles under her eyes told him what he needed to know.
His shoulders slumped. "You met him, didn't you?"
Delilah went back to cleaning glasses. "I don't want to talk about it."
The phone rang, interrupting Donovan before he could press any more. "Yeah?" he answered. Without another word, he hung up and looked to Delilah. "He wants to see you."
Her eyes flashed to the lounge window and back to Donovan. "Now?"
"Now," he confirmed, feeling sorry for her. He wished he could keep her from having to go up there, but in this town the true power lied up in that room.
Each step brought her closer to the room that had haunted her dreams last night and to the man that had caused it. When she entered, he was alone waiting for her.
"Come in. Have a seat," he gestured to the seat across from him.
Tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, she obliged. Crossing her legs, she tried to avoid his penetrating gaze.
"Timid little one, aren't we?" he observed, straightening out his beige vest. She didn't answer. "You are quite the… troublesome employee," he hissed. "I sure do hope those… martinis," he drew out the word, "are worth it."
Delilah bit her lip, not knowing what he expected her to say. The last thing she wanted to do was anger him.
"What's your story, little one? How'd you come to step foot into my club in the first place?"
"Well," she started slowly, being sure to choose her words wisely. "As you already know, I came with a date."
"Yes, and how did you end up with such a specimen?" he said with a hint of disgust.
"I met him at work. He had seemed nice, but I was wrong about him," her eyes fell to her hands out of shame and embarrassment. "I assume he's dead," she stated, almost questioningly. His silence spoke volumes. She bit back tears and jumped as he lunged toward her, kneeling with a hand pointed up to her eyes.
"See now this is interesting. The guy tried to date rape you," he said bluntly. "And here you are… nearly shedding tears for him."
"That makes two men who have died because of me. I feel guilty—"
"Don't be stupid. They didn't die because of your actions. They died because of theirs," he said sharply. "It's a tough world we live in." He rose. "Predators and the prey. Kill or lose power. There's no room for innocence."
She stared up at him in silence, and his finger found her chin, making her flinch as he lifted her to stand before him.
"Let your inner darkness loose before your innocence gets you killed." His fingers trailed down her neck to her bare shoulders. He began to circle her as he had done the night before, his fingers sending electricity through her at his touch. Coming full circle, her eyes caught his and something he saw there made him stop. Growling, his features darkened. Lifting his cane up, she thought he may hit her with it but he just used it to tap it on the door behind her. The door opened and there Frost stood. "Get her out of here."
"You should quit."
"Excuse me?" She met Donovan's gaze, completely caught off guard.
"I said," he approached her. "You should quit. The past couple times you've come in you've looked like hell."
"Ah, shucks. Flatter me why don't ya," she rolled her eyes sarcastically.
Donovan gave a rather attractive chuckle. "I'm serious. Places like this, well they're full of darkness. Your innocence attracts it. There's plenty of bad people who want to snuff out any light they come across or take it for themselves."
"You know what the weirdest part is?" She lowered her voice to a whisper. "When I went home last night, there was a brand new tv mounted on my living room wall."
"How'd it get there?"
"I think it's a gift from," she jerked her heads towards the lounge. "I just don't know how they got into my apartment in the first place."
"You've got to get out, Delilah," he shook his head, knowing full well that The Joker's men had put it there. He knew they could find a means to do pretty much anything they wanted. His guess would be they copied her key in the break room or just had the manager let them in.
Delilah sighed. "Unfortunately, I don't think quitting is an option." Her eyes flitted to the lounge area and she wondered if Mr. J was watching their conversation at that very moment. She knew that where his seat was located he had a perfect view of the bar. She also knew that he would not be happy if he knew what they were talking about.
Donovan leaned closer to her and she could smell the peppermint of his toothpaste on his breath. "What if I had a way out? We could talk more about it somewhere outside of work." He shrugged. "Maybe over lunch or something," he added suggestively.
A smirk played on her face. "You mean, like a date?"
He ran a hand back through his hair. "Well, I wasn't going to just come out and say it, but yeah. What do ya say?"
She bit her lip, thinking it over. "Yeah. I would like that." Playing with him, she asked, "So should I be watching out for you, Donovan? Do you have darkness in you?"
"Oh, you have no idea," he winked, evoking a lighthearted laugh from her.
Up in the lounge, eyes like ice watched the pair. The Joker seethed as he watched Donovan make Delilah light up with ease.
Tapping her heel of her shoes on the sidewalk, Delilah waited impatiently for Donovan to arrive. They had made plans to meet here at DiAngelo's, an Italian restaurant located in the heart of Gotham, for lunch to discuss his 'way out' and enjoy a nice, quiet date. Pulling her phone free from her coat pocket, she checked the time. 12:35 pm. He was exactly thirty five minutes late and she was beginning to get worried. Had he bailed out on her? She could definitely say being stood up would be a first. Not something to brag about. It was getting to the point that she perked up every time she saw a taxi approach, but each time someone that wasn't Donovan climbed out her heart sank even further. With a heavy sigh, she called it and headed home to get ready for work. Maybe he just forgot. She'd just talk to him later.
However, later never really came. This was because he never even showed up for his shift. Or the shift after that. Or the shift after that. It had been three days and no sign of him. In fact, it didn't seem like he was coming back because the next day Frost arrived at the bar with a new bartender for Delilah to train.
"Delilah, this is Faith. She's new so teach her the ropes around here." Frost gestured to the tall blonde at his side.
"Hi," Faith smiled brightly, extending a well-polished hand to Delilah.
Shaking the woman's hand, she then turned on Frost. "What happened to Donovan? Is he okay?"
"You need to forget about him. He left for a job across town. Shift's starting in five minutes so you two better get started," he answered coolly before leaving, not wanting to elaborate.
It was close to the end of the shift and already Delilah felt like she wanted to blow her brains out. Bad choice of words, she thought to herself as images of Big Paulie flooded her mind. All night it seemed like Faith was way more interested in meeting their boss than actually making drinks.
"I hear he's a real badass," Faith gushed, fluffing her hair.
"Yep. That's him," Delilah answered dismissively.
"So you've met him?!" Faith leaned onto the bar, wanting way more details than Delilah would ever give. Faith was the epitome of a busty blonde who was looking for a sugar daddy.
"A couple times." Delilah rang up an elderly man who had been waiting on Faith to take his money. "Can we just focus on—"
"So what's it take to get some time with him?"
"I don't know. Look, we've got to ring out these last couple people since we're closing in a few minutes. Do you wanna—"
"Nah. It's alright. You'll be faster anyway," Faith sat staring up at the lounge window with want. Delilah just rolled her eyes and finished up with the customers.
"Delilah!" Frost called to her from across the room and both girl's spun on him. Faith watched with jealousy as he guided her upstairs. She was getting really tired of being summoned up here. This time when she entered she saw that he was behind his personal bar, preparing a couple drinks. As usual, Frost gave them privacy. She wished that just one of these times he would stay. She knew that if Mr. J wanted to kill her that Frost wouldn't stand in the way, but his presence was still somewhat comforting to her.
"Sit," Joker commanded.
She accepted a seat at the bar, watching as he expertly prepared his signature drinks for the two of them. Swallowing hard, she asked, "Why did you hire me, Mr. J?"
"Why not?" he poured the bright green drink into each glasses, topping hers off with a red cherry before setting it in front of her.
She really wasn't wanting to drink alcohol — especially not around him — but she knew to refuse could prove to be a bad decision on her part. Her slender fingers glided over the cool surface of the glass as she sipped on the beverage. Going down it was sweet, but left a bitter bite. "I just don't understand why you offered me a job without even talking to me first."
"For the money, of course," he answer matter-of-factly.
"The money?" she asked, completely confused.
"Having a bartender as delectable as you brings in more cash flow from the bar and therefore into my pocket. All those horny men just dying for a chance to talk to someone like you, hoping to take you home… to get you into their bed."
"But the dancers… wouldn't they be easier to—"
"It's not as much of a challenge. You're the good girl. They feed on the feeling they're robbing you of what makes you good."
Her face turned red and she dropped her head, hoping to hide her embarrassment.
Coming around the bar, he lifted her chin with his finger. His eyes bore into hers, taking in the bright ocean eyes that had angered him so. He always seemed to be studying her. "Someone like you should hold her head up high. Don't be embarrassed by their desire for you. It gives you power. Embrace it. Use it." His finger glided over her full, pink lips and she couldn't deny the electricity it sent through her to her core. Lust filled his eyes and his cinnamon breath came heavier.
"Mr. J," she spoke softly. "I think you have the wrong idea about me. Maybe you'd want Faith up here. She's been talking about you non-stop and—"
He pressed his finger to her lips, stopping her. "Enough. I know what I want." Moving up behind her, he placed a hand at the small of her back. His breath tickled against the skin of her neck as he whispered in her ear, "And I always get what I want."
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