Series: Sean Moriarty
Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113805 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
At times, I even find myself checking her out.
In fact, during my first couple of weeks of work, I briefly considered switching teams.
The only thing keeping me from going down that road of exploration being that I seem to be dead inside.
Whatever spark most of us carry around… that spark of life that demands to be fed has been snuffed out.
I don’t know if it was Kyle that killed it or something else.
But it’s gone.
I’ve tried. I’ve tried to get… excited for someone, anything. But even in the privacy of my own bedroom, the desire isn’t there.
It’s like the lower part of my body has been completely turned off.
And I don’t know if I can turn it back on.
I don’t know if I want to turn it back on.
The thought of feeling anything for another person again, besides Abel, scares the living shit out of me.
“So what do you plan to do after this?” Lana asks casually as she brings her attention back to me, but I sense an ulterior motive.
I know most of the women working here understand that it’s only temporary. Dancing is merely a steppingstone to help them get to bigger and better things.
A means to an end.
While I hate the men, hate that places like this exist, I admire and sometimes envy the other women that work here. Not only are they in control of their bodies and sexuality, something I’ve always struggled with, they’re some of the hardest working people I know.
With big dreams and aspirations.
At least half the women are working to pay for college, and the others are saving up to do things like start their own businesses.
“I haven’t thought that far ahead,” I admit.
And it’s the truth.
The goal right now is to complete the job at hand. I don’t like to count my chickens before they hatch.
Because I always end up being disappointed.
I used to have dreams of going to college one day. Of earning my degree in something that would provide a stable living.
But Kyle squashed all of that.
He wanted me home. He didn’t want me to work even before I got pregnant. Then what did he do once Abel was born?
He abandoned us.
Lana’s attention slides over my head and she frowns. “Well, you better start figuring it out quick.”
“What? Why?” I start to turn my head, to see what she’s looking at, but she puts her hand on my shoulder to stop me.
“Don’t look, but the big boss’s men have finally shown up and one of them has been staring you down since you walked over here.”
My heart races with both excitement and a touch of dread.
They’re here. Finally here.
But why would one of them be watching me?
“What do you mean?” I ask, slightly turning my head, hoping to get a peek.
Lana’s fingers dig into my shoulder. “I mean he looks seriously pissed off by something, and you might want to start looking for a new job. Asap.”
“Shit.”
Does he somehow know I’m a fake? A plant?
Did I give myself away with Mr. Business Card?
Now that Lana has pointed out I’m being watched, all the little hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. The first few days I started working here, my skin would constantly crawl with all the eyes checking me out, but I quickly learned to turn it off to save my sanity.
Big mistake.
Especially when I’m the one who should be doing the watching.
“What the fuck are you doing? Why are you standing here with your thumb up your ass?” Rodney, our manager, says as he stomps angrily over to us. “Do I fucking pay you to stand around, chitchatting?”
Double shit.
On a good day, Rodney is a cranky jerk. On a bad day, he’s an unbearable asshole with a stick stuck up his ass.
Today is definitely a bad day.
Face flushed red and the front of his unbuttoned white shirt soaked with sweat, Rodney marches right up to me.
He gets so close I can smell he forgot to put deodorant on before he left his house.
“Do you know who that is?” Throwing his arm out, revealing a big wet stain in the armpit of his suit jacket, Rodney points in the direction Lana was looking.
Before I can look at who he’s pointing out, he barks, “Get your ass out there.”
“Now wait just a minute, sugar,” Lana says, dropping her voice into the sultry purr we all use. Sliding up next to Rodney, she touches his arm and draws his attention. “Eden is working. She’s waiting on her drinks for table eleven.”
As if on cue, the bartender, Will, winks at me and nudges a tray full of drinks in my direction. “Order’s up, Eden.”
“See.” Lana grins with satisfaction.
Rodney glances at the tray of drinks then back to Lana, some of his temper fading. He’s always had a soft spot for her, and I wouldn’t be surprised to find out he’s secretly in love with her.