Chapter 36
I quit my job.
Well, I handed in my two weeks’ notice.
Okay, I actually gave them a month’s advance notice that I was leaving, but that was mainly because I wanted to give the administration a decent amount of time to get their collective heads out of their asses in order to start the interview process for my replacement. And hopefully the replacements for all the empty positions. And I wanted to help Rodrigo brainstorm a way for the library to move forward while it was so understaffed. I could tell the man was frustrated that he would be the only one left, but when I explained my reasoning, some of his animosity lessened.
That’s the best I can hope for.
After I handed in my notice, the next day funny enough, I got offered the position of Director of the Library. It would come with a pay raise and a signing bonus. Isn’t that fantastic?
I politely declined.
It’s one thing to work at an underfunded, understaffed library. Honestly, that’s most libraries.
But when the administration decided the best use of their time was digging into my personal life and scolding me for it, I had to admit defeat.
No. Not defeat.
I had to admit that the institution had toxicity at its core, and there was no way I was going to change it without destroying myself in the process.
My mental health is worth more than my pride.
And now I am set up to take over the instruction librarian position at Sammy’s alma mater when the current worker goes on maternity leave. I know that it’s not a permanent solution. I know that while I’m working one job, I’ll need to be applying for others. But I still think this is the healthiest move. Plus I’ll get the chance to explore a different kind of library environment, and I can decide if I want to stay with small colleges or possibly work at larger universities. And maybe I’ll even get the chance to stay at the university. They could potentially have job openings, seeing as how their library has a much larger staff and they are proactive about filling empty roles.
In the meantime, I’m not gonna be particularly worried about money. And not because I’m dating a millionaire—although I bet that if I suddenly found myself without enough funds to pay my rent, Sammy would find a way to sneak money to my landlord.
But no, the reason that I won’t worry about money is because I’ve started accepting the tips that I earn at The Jewelry Box.
When I told Yasmin that I was quitting my strict job, she informed me that she then expected me to start pocketing the money I earned while working on the stage. She made a good point about it being honestly earned, and the fact that I haven’t been accepting it could be rubbing some of the other dancers the wrong way.
I never wanted any of my coworkers to think that I thought I was above stripping for a living. My reasoning was always that I didn’t want to risk losing my day job, and with the lust fueling my magic I was getting payment, in a way. I thought taking the money was taking more than I deserved.
Yasmin disavowed me of that notion. Now I’m finding out that I have actually been earning a lot of money every week. Even just dancing on Tuesday nights and occasionally Saturday.
But I have made Sammy swear not to throw any money or jewelry or anything else on the stage for me. We are not going to be in the same situation that he is with August, stuffing his cousin’s tip jar every chance he gets.
The Squid agreed, but that means he shows up and cheers the loudest and insists on buying me regular ice cream cones. Also, he spoils our cat to a ridiculous proportion.
But now I try to spoil him.
“What is it?” Sammy asks when I wake him up with a kiss and a small gift box on his chest. We are in his bed, a luxurious king-sized monstrosity that makes me never want to sleep in my condo again.
“It’s called a birthday gift, old man.” I prop my head on my hand to stare down at the surprised Squid.
“How did you know?”
“August.” I reach out to finger-comb his hair away from his face. “Would’ve thought you’d be going on and on about it for weeks. Your special day. Blow jobs every hour on the hour.”
His blue eyes widen. “Do I get that?”
I smirk and flick the package he hasn’t touched. “How about you open this gift first.” My snarky tone is a shield to cover up nerves. Maybe the present is a bad idea.
But I want to show Sammy I listen to him. And that I care.
With careful fingers, the Squid slides the lid off the box and stares at the contents. His unusual silence has me babbling to fill the void. “I thought about getting you a strand of pearls, but you probably still have that first one,” I joke. “Thought this might be better. Maybe. I don’t know. Just, I talked to my mom and told her about you and how I love you. And she’s still got all these connections in New York, so when I asked her about instruments, she connected me with a guy who makes custom pieces.” Sammy still isn’t saying anything, and I’m starting to panic. “But it’s nothing. I can return it.”
I go to grab the gift, but it’s gone, Sammy holding it away from my snatching fingers.
“Ava.” My name is a rasp in his voice. “You got me a harmonica?”
Not just any harmonica. A one-of-a-kind, gold-plated harmonica with a squid design etched into the metal and the initials SR on the underside.
“I know it’s not your grandfather’s.” I lie on my back and stare up at the ceiling, unable to meet his eyes. “But I wanted to give you something that meant something. Because I take from you all the time. And I just want you to know I’m sorry that I use you.” Then I turn my head to meet his eyes. “I love you. And know that if someone hurts you, on the outside”—my fingers trail the scar on his arm—“or on the inside”—I jerk my chin toward the gift—“I want to be the one healing you.”
Without warning, he rolls on top of me, pinning me to the bed with his body and kiss and eventually his hard cock. Sammy whispers his love against my magic-infused skin over and over. And when we lay in a tangle of sweaty sheets and post-orgasm bliss, he plays a Happy Birthday to himself on his new gift, a wide grin messing up some of the notes.
And a few days later, as I stroll onto The Jewelry Box main stage, wearing my mask because I still prefer the slim bit of privacy it provides me, I feel his eyes on me. I glance to the VIP section, but while it is full of people, I don’t see my Squid. I scan the entire club and finally pick him out by the bar. Sammy sits with Rafael, and he chats with Cat, but he stares at me. When our eyes meet, he holds up his drink in a toast and blows me a kiss.
I stick out my tongue at him in response, which earns me a grin.
And that’s all I want in payment from him.