Chapter 1
Chapter one
Alina
TWO WEEKS LATER
“Why don’t you take a seat right here, darling, and earn your tip?”
I recoil as the man pats his lap, spreading his legs wide. His snake-like tongue slides suggestively across his bottom lip in a way that will surely haunt my dreams for years to come.
I can’t believe this is what my life has become.
I once was a girl who spent her days dreaming of being swept off her feet by a brooding, muscular man, like in one of the many romance books I carry an unhealthy obsession with.
You know, the kind of man who worships his woman, protecting her from the darkness this world offers as he wraps her into his arms, staring longingly into her eyes.
Hey, a girl can dream.
But now, as a twenty-four-year-old cocktail waitress at Darkest Desires, a gentleman’s club, in the slimiest part of town, wearing the skimpiest black two-piece set—currently red for Christmas—that barely allows me leeway to bend over without showing the curve of my ass, I dream of not accruing an overdraft fee after paying all my bills at the end of the month.
Or, at least the option of splurging on a fancy coffee now and then.
It doesn’t matter that I officially graduated from school a few weeks ago and have a master’s degree sitting in the back of my closet. Or that I’ve spent countless hours training, shadowing, interning, and testing all to pursue my dream of becoming a deaf education specialist.
Because when the economy sucks, and there are no jobs available, you take what you can get.
Even if you despise it and it makes your skin crawl to have all these men leering at you your whole shift, like a piece of prime sirloin fresh off the grill. Not to mention when they go in for a quick squeeze or pinch because they think they’re entitled to it.
But you do what you have to do to survive.
Especially when you have more bills piling up by the day and no freaking clue how they’ll ever get paid.
Most importantly, you do it because you have someone you love relying on you.
And you will never let them down.
With force, the corners of my lips tug up as I place the last glass of amber liquid before the man and his three friends.
I’ve seen them all around here before. Several times, in fact.
They all work at the governor’s office, and as soon as the clock strikes five p.m., they end up here instead of at home with their wives and children.
“Sorry, sir. Lap dances are not my specialty.” I tuck the tray under my arm. “Let me know if there’s anything else I can get you, though.” Taking a step away, I’m pulled back by the man’s hand wrapping around my forearm, his fingers digging into my bones.
“I wasn’t asking, bitch.” With a quick tug, I stumble in my heels, falling directly onto his lap, my tray crashing to the floor. His eyes glue themselves to my breasts as he licks his lips. “Fuck, look at these goddamn tits, gentlemen.”
Bracing my hands against his chest, I try to push myself off, but he wraps an arm around my waist, keeping me in place. Please tell me that’s his wallet in his pocket that’s poking my ass. His friends laugh as if this happens every day, and unfortunately, I’m guessing it does.
“Get your hands off of me,” I grit out.
He grins like a serpent that has just ensnared its kill. “Or what?”
“Or this.”
It all happens so fast. One moment I’m strapped to this man’s lap, and in the next, as the man is yanked out of his seat and thrown to the ground, I’m moved to the side, where I find Jen tucking me under her arm.
“Are you okay? I called for Big D the second I saw what happened,” she tells me, looking me over cautiously with worry in her eyes.
“I’m fine, really.” I smooth down my skirt with a slight shake in my hands, tugging it as far down as it will go. “Nothing I can’t handle.” My glasses inch down my nose, and I carefully push them back into place.
“Get your fucking face out of here.” Declan, also known as Big D, kicks the man in the ribs, who is now curled in the fetal position. Gazing around, I notice his friends are long gone.
Can’t say I blame them.
I’d be scared of Big D too if it weren’t for the fact that I know he’s secretly a big softy who prefers spending his nights off rewatching Downton Abbey while experimenting with different sourdough recipes.
I always love it when he sends me home with a loaf to sample.
The man coughs out, “The governor will hear about this.”
“The fuck if I care,” Big D retorts with a grim expression.
Eventually, the man crawls a few feet away before jumping to his feet and scurrying out the exit like the scum that he is. With the front door open, I see snow falling heavily in big flakes, coating the sidewalk.
Great. The drive home’s going to be fun.
Big D faces me, frowning. “You okay?”
The bar manager, CJ, comes up beside him, looking between us and signs, What did I miss?
I speak and sign at the same time, “Nothing out of the ordinary.” I wrap my arms around my midsection to hide the tremble running through me and see the look in Big D’s eyes. The one that says he doesn’t believe a damn word I’m saying. “I promise I’m fine. Totally fine.”
He arches a brow, crossing his burly tattoo-covered arms over his chest. “Why don’t you take off early? I’ll comp you for your time.”
I shake my head. “I’m not leaving you short-staffed.”
“We’ll manage. The crowds are light tonight, anyway, with it being Christmas Eve and all.”
I chew on my bottom lip, looking around the room. It is pretty quiet here. “Are you sure?”
“Girl, get out of here.” Jen playfully elbows me, smiling. “Go see your dad.”
I glance over at the clock hanging above the bar and note there’s still plenty of time left before he goes to bed.
“Yeah, actually, I think I will. Thanks.” I pick up the tray from the ground and place it on the nearest bar top before turning toward the employee lounge.
“Merry Christmas,” I call over my shoulder.
Quickly, I turn, and as I walk backwards, I sign, Merry Christmas, to CJ, who signs it back to me, grinning.
“So…” Jen walks side by side with me. “Did you have any time to think about it?”
I scoff, remembering our conversation from last night. “I can’t strip.”
Isn’t that for damn sure.
Besides my nonexistent grace, I also lack a single morsel of self-confidence and refuse to stride up and down a stage with lights pointed right at me for men to throw dollar bills at.
I outwardly cringe.
She leans against her locker, twirling a piece of dark hair around her finger. “Aren’t you the one who told me you’d do anything to get out of all the debt you’re currently accruing because of your—”
“Almost anything.” I untie my apron and hang it in my locker before grabbing my street clothes to change into.
She laughs, adjusting her Santa’s hat. “All I’m saying is you’ll make more money in one night than you would in a month serving assholes drinks.
Not to mention, you wouldn’t have to put up with scumbags like that guy out there, putting his grimy hands all over you, if you were up on a stage.
They can look at the goods all they want, but they can’t touch.
” She wiggles her index finger back and forth.
I sigh. The idea of making more money is awfully appealing. But…
“I don’t know.” I slide my arms into my sweater, then step out of my skirt and into my jeans, shimmying them up my thighs.
Wearing clothes that actually cover my body makes me feel a semblance of relief.
“Being on stage with guys staring at me…” I pull my puffer coat over my arms and zip it up.
“I don’t particularly like attention. Especially not that kind.
I hate it enough just serving drinks to these idiots. ”
She lifts a shoulder. “You get used to it.” She shows a small smile and pats me on the shoulder.
“Just think about it. Who knows? Maybe one night on that stage could change your life. Perhaps some sexy billionaire will see you and fall head over heels in love with you, offering to buy you the whole damn world.”
If only… Then all my problems would be solved.
I laugh. “Yeah, maybe when pigs fly.” I close my locker and pull my phone out of my pocket.
Seven notifications stare back at me. One missed phone call from Dad, one group text between me and my best friends Madeleine and Scarlett, two bill reminders, and three new matches from the current dating site I’ve joined.
The thought of having to endure one more date when the guy only talks about himself and how successful he is, never once asking about me, makes my stomach churn.
I groan as I shove it back into my pocket, ignoring that slight problem for now.
“I should get going before the roads get bad. I’ll see you in a few nights.
Have a nice Christmas with your family.”
“See you, girl.” She struts out of the room, pushing up her boobs. “Merry Christmas!”
Thankfully, the streets are pretty bare in this part of New York as I drive as cautiously as I can through the flurries of snow that descend from the dark clouds above. Approaching a fork in the road, I stop, finding myself wishing I could take a left toward the place I spent most of my childhood.
A place where I’ve always felt safe and loved.
The Alarie Estate.
Being that it’s Christmas Eve, their annual Christmas party is most likely already in full swing with laughter, dancing, and drinks. It was an event I looked forward to. One I was sure to always attend.
Not this year, though, I think.
Shaking my head, I continue right, staying along backroads until I eventually arrive at the designated lot, pulling alongside the sign that reads, “Parking for Mindful Care family members only.”
Shutting off the engine, I rest my head against the worn leather steering wheel and take a deep breath, trying to compose myself. It’s never easy coming here. Some days are better than others. The only problem is, I never know what kind of day it will be until I see him.