“You know, I can’t tell if you’re being deliberately mysterious or if you’re just that guarded.”
I drain the rest of my soda and set the glass down harder than necessary. “Why would I waste energy being mysterious?”
He shrugs. “Part of the mystery is figuring out what motivates you.”
“Money motivates me. Simple as that.”
Something cold flickers across his face. “Right. Because of the kid. And your ex-husband.” His voice hardens. “The one who left you to handle his mess. Tell me he’s not still causing problems for both of you.”
There’s something dangerous in his tone now, like he’s already deciding what to do if the answer is yes.
The mention of Eric makes every muscle in my body lock up. I know I brought him up first, but hearing Alessio say his name so casually sends anxiety shooting through my veins like ice water. Eric is a topic I don’t discuss. Ever. Even Keshia knows better than to ask, though she doesn’t know the full story of why he’s completely off-limits.
“I should get back to work.” I stand up before he can ask another question. I need to get back on stage in thirty minutes, but if I find someone now, I can squeeze in a lap dance first. Make some actual money instead of sitting here letting my boss pry into my personal life.
“But we’re just getting to know each other.”
The panic pressing in on me makes my voice come out harsher than I intend. “Why the hell are you suddenly so interested in getting to know me?”
His jaw ticks. He stares at his glass for a long moment, like he’s debating whether to answer honestly. “Because I can’t seem tostop myself.” His voice turns rough, almost angry. “I’ve always been interested. That’s the fucking problem.” He shakes his head like he’s disgusted with himself. “This was stupid. Just go back to work.”
The whiplash from his sudden interest to cold dismissal stings more than it should. I don’t know why I care what this moody, confusing man thinks of me, but apparently I do.
I leave him at the bar and prowl through the club looking for potential customers. The crowd is thin tonight, though, and I’ve already wasted too much time talking when I should have been working. By the time I need to get ready for my next set, I haven’t managed to book a single private dance.
When I glance back at the bar, Alessio is still there, staring into his empty glass like he’s forgotten I exist.
I change into a sparkly thong and matching bra for my second performance of the night. This routine involves more actual dancing and less stripping, but the men go wild when I work the pole in barely anything. I scan the crowd automatically, looking for Alessio, but his spot at the bar is empty now.
The stage feels different without his eyes on me. Smaller somehow, like I’ve lost something I didn’t realize I wanted.
After I collect my tips and head back to the dressing room, I’m already mentally planning my next move. I spotted a group of new customers during my dance, and hopefully one of them will be interested in a private session. I stuff my money into my duffle bag and head back toward the main floor.
“Nina.” Alessio’s voice cuts through the hallway noise as I pass his office. “Come in here.”
I consider pretending I didn’t hear him, but the door is wide open and he’s looking directly at me. He’s my boss, which means I don’t really have a choice.
“What now?” I don’t bother hiding my irritation.
He holds out a stack of cash. “I want to give you this.”
I stare at the money instead of taking it. “What the hell is that for?”
“I monopolized your time at the bar. You didn’t get a chance to earn what you needed tonight.”
My brain takes a second to process what he’s saying. “You want to pay me for a lap dance?”
Heat flashes in his amber eyes, and I feel an answering warmth spread through my body. The thought of grinding against some stranger’s lap feels like a chore I have to endure, but if it were Alessio underneath me...
That would be an entirely different kind of experience.
“I want to pay you for the time I cost you,” he says.
“No.” I take a step back, but Alessio moves faster than I expect. He circles around me and closes the office door before I can escape. “I don’t want your charity.”
He grabs my wrist and tries to press the money into my palm, but I refuse to close my fingers around it. The bills flutter to the floor.
“Why are you being so stubborn?” Alessio shifts his grip to my upper arms, his hands hot against my bare skin. He pulls me against him, and suddenly we’re close enough that I can see the gold flecks in his eyes.
