Three Broken Promises (One Week Girlfriend #3)(51)
Author: Monica Murphy

“Who?” I start to turn but she hisses at me, making me stop.

“Don’t look! It’s Colin. Oh my God, he’s headed over here. I wonder if his dad made him mad,” Fable finishes just as Colin approaches.

“Chatting on my time, ladies?” He sends a pointed look at Fable, who for once in her life keeps her lips clamped shut. It’s a miracle. “I suggest you get back to work.”

Not saying a word, she turns tail and takes off, leaving me alone with a man who is very, very pissed off.

And I think it’s all directed at me.

“I just spoke to my father,” he starts, his voice tight, his eyes narrowed. “He had some interesting information.”

“About what?” I ask warily.

“About you.” He pauses, waiting for my surprise to settle in. “And what you did when you worked at Gold Diggers.”

My knees threaten to buckle, and not in a good way. “Wh—what are you talking about?” I know exactly what he’s talking about. I’ve kept this secret from him for months. Almost a year. I never wanted him to know the truth.

Colin steps closer, glancing around as if to ensure we’re alone. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

Panic flares and my brain scrambles. I didn’t want him to find out, especially like this. I want to deny it. I want to pretend this isn’t happening, but I can’t. So I decide to be completely honest.

Even if the truth might cost me everything.

“You already know I was a stripper there,” I admit, my voice small. “I danced, but only for a little while. A few months.” Regret crashes through me, but I push it aside. I can’t say anything more.

“You’re lying to me, Jen. Why would you lie to me? I thought I was your friend.” He’s starting to yell and I shush him, not wanting to draw any attention.

“We shouldn’t talk about it out here.” I grab hold of his arm to try and drag him back to his office but he jerks out of my grip, his expression full of disgust and horror.

All of it aimed directly at me.

“You’ve had plenty of opportunity to tell me the truth. I need to hear you say it.” He spits out the last word. “I could’ve helped you. You know this. God, Jenny, why did you let them touch you?”

Dread consumes me and my head spins. How does he know? He’s not saying what he knows but I can tell. He looks positively horrified, and I hate it. Hate that this is a part of my past and he’s learned about it from someone else. I should have told him. I should have been honest with him from the start. “I refuse to have this conversation out here where anyone could be listening.” I reach for him but he steps back, clearly not wanting to be touched. By me. That hurts. “Let’s go to your office. Please.”

“No,” he says vehemently. “Say it, Jen. Tell me what you let them do to you.”

Sighing, I throw my head back, staring at the ceiling for a long minute before I finally look at him. “It was only for a couple of months. I was desperate. I started working there as a cocktail waitress like I told you, but the girls who danced would rake in so much money, I became jealous over what they made. Every single one of them encouraged me to dance and after awhile, I finally decided why the hell not? So one night I drank a few shots for liquid courage, got up onstage, and proceeded to make an ass of myself the very first time I danced.”

I remember the embarrassing moment like it was yesterday. The men that catcalled me and the others who openly laughed. My dancing skills had been subpar at best and I’d been a little drunk and sloppy on my feet. But after awhile, I’d gotten into it and danced with wild abandon.

Glancing at Colin, I see he’s glaring at me, expecting me to say more. I don’t want to say more.

But I do.

“The money that the men threw at me when I danced felt empowering. I—I became addicted to the tips. I needed that money. I was all alone. Soon I was dancing six nights a week, working as much as I could. Making as much money as I could. After I’d built up some confidence, I started to offer lap dances.” I look away from Colin, unable to stand to see his reaction. He must hate me so much. “My tips exploded. I saved and saved, ready to put a deposit down on an apartment of my own so I could get away from my awful roommate when one of her creepy boyfriends snuck into my room when I was at work. He searched through my stuff and found the secret stash of cash I kept in a crappy old shoe box under the bed.”

“He stole your money.” Colin’s voice is flat and I refuse to look at him.

“He took it all. My roommate was pissed when I accused her boyfriend of stealing from me. She kicked me out. I was devastated.”

Desperate. Scared.

“Why didn’t you call your parents? They would’ve taken you back in.”

“They hardly noticed I was gone!” I look at him now, see that he flinched when I yelled my answer. “I left because I didn’t seem to matter to them anymore. No one cared. Going home would’ve been a step backward.”

“So you lived in your car instead.” The sarcasm in his voice is thick.

“What was I going to do? I felt like I had nowhere else to go. I was embarrassed, Colin. At the very end of my rope. I did things that I’m not proud of. Not proud of at all.” Things I never even told Fable and she’s my closest friend. She’s the only one who would probably get it.

Colin rescued me within two weeks of the theft, something I’d never told him about either. I don’t like talking about my Gold Digger days.

Clearly, neither does Colin.

“Why didn’t you tell me all this? I mean, I knew what you were . . . doing, but I sure as hell didn’t know everything.” He steps away from me and rubs the back of his neck, looking confused. Hurt. Disappointed.

Completely devastated by my confession.

God. He thinks I’m disgusting for what I’ve done. And he doesn’t even know the half of it. “Why is it any of your business, what I’ve done with my life?” I know why it’s his business—I want him to know. He’s one of my closest friends.

And now I’m pretty sure I’m in love with him.

“I’m your friend, Jen. If friends can’t be honest with each other . . .” His voice trails off, the implication clear.

I’m nothing but a liar and a slut. How dare he jump to conclusions? How dare he judge me? Yeah, I’m not proud of the things I did, but I had no choice. I was alone. I couldn’t go back home; my parents were too wrapped up in their own problems to want to deal with mine. They’d ignored me for years and once they lost my brother, it was as if I didn’t exist.