I glance at Cole and almost bust out laughing. Jesus, he does not have a poker face. He’s bright red too, but with fuming anger.
I don’t know if Tiffy’s like Katie. I don’t know Katie all that well. But so far this week when I’ve called Katie, she’s been receptive, realistic, and ready to do anything I’ve asked.
Sometimes that involves lowering expectations. But in Katie’s case, it’s more about retargeting the right kind of guy. She wants a bad boy who wants to settle down.
I chuckle at that. Don’t they all.
The secretary gets up on her feet as I jump off the stage and make my way to her. I let the girls push those dollars down my briefs and make sure they don’t get too excited.
They all do. Want that bad boy who wants to change and be a dad and a husband, that is.
But those guys don’t exist. And most women need to hear that for a few weeks. They need to fail at this shit so bad that they get it.
I do, of course, set up the bad guys they meet. I’ve only been in this stripping business nine months, but I have connections from previous jobs.
Katie saw through my first asshole immediately. Oh, Axe was hot, and he was bad. Reformed prisoner. But Katie has good instincts, and never called him back on Friday when he tried for date two.
Then there was Brian Friday night. If Axe was the president of Bad Boy Inc., then Brian was middle management. Katie agreed to see him again on Saturday for a day date, but I got a message last night that she was not interested.
Which means she likes the idea of a bad boy. Not the bad boy himself. She wants a guy who works out, wears hot ripped jeans and white t-shirts on the weekends, but has a brain and a legitimate job Monday through Friday.
Like me. If you can call what I do a legitimate job.
Except this secretary bitch right here… all these bitches in here… all they see is Axe. They have no idea who I am. They have no idea what I do. And they have no interest in finding out.
And that’s OK with me.
I take the secretary’s hand and whirl her to the beat of the thumping music. And then I pull her close in one quick move, crashing her against my rock-hard chest. She’s a little stunned from the quick change and even more so when I hold her tight. We do a little slow dance. I watch those faces all around me for the look.
That look that says, Awwww. I want to take him home. He’s bad, but good at the same time. He makes her fist his junk on stage and then slow-dances to the beat of lust in a room full of heat.
Fletcher Novak is a keeper, they sigh.
But Fletcher Novak is taken. They just have no idea because no one looks hard enough. All they see is this guy here, because that’s all they want to see.
Stripper.
Player.
Liar.
Asshole.
And they love it. So fuck this girl in my arms with her head resting on my chest like we are high-school lovers shuffling around on prom night. I don’t give one shit about her. She’s a job, just like all the rest of them here in this room.
She’s just another job to me.
Chapter Twenty-One
Elizabeth was her name. But she’s gone now. Fletcher marked her as his the first act and that was that. He never took his eyes off her. And by the time the last act came along, he never let her go either. She disappeared backstage with him and never looked back.
“She’s the new employee?” I ask Cole, both of us looking at the curtain with disbelief. “Your assistant?”
Cole grunts and then reluctantly turns back to me. “I’m sorry your dad cancelled. I know how much you wanted to see him.”
“Yeah,” I say, a little sad about the fact my father didn’t show. It’s like he’s lost all interest in me lately. “I am.” But I’m not here to talk about my dad. I’m here to get a date with Cole tomorrow night. “I miss him. It’s been months since he’s had time for me.”
“Well, being a billionaire hotel mogul keeps him busy, right?” Cole’s eyes dart to the curtain when a stage hand appears to start cleaning up the equipment. And the other guys are all lined up for their lap dances. That will go on for a while.