Trashy (Take It Off #10)(9)
Author: Cambria Hebert

One night our place was broken into. I was attacked, scared out of my mind. The guy ran off when Harlow showed up, but it didn’t really ease my fear. I’d been afraid at the time it was Craig. We knew now it wasn’t.

Adam showed up that night. Like he somehow knew I needed him. Just the feel of his arms around me was enough to erase the worst parts of that night and replace them with longing thoughts of him. He spent that night on my couch. I slept better just knowing he was there.

I must have looked now like I looked that night. Maybe it was the reason he was so close.

“You know you can talk to me, right?” he asked, low.

I nodded. I couldn’t really, though. My problems weren’t his problems. My bad choices weren’t his responsibility. And besides, he already knew more than enough about the kind of relationship I’d let myself become involved in. It was embarrassing enough without talking about it more.

“You aren’t going to.” He said the words like they tasted foul. Momentarily, his hands tightened on the lapels of his jacket before he released them and stood.

“There’s nothing to say,” I replied.

“I’m opening a new club,” he said, abruptly changing the subject. That softness buried deep within him went back where he kept it, and his normal façade came out.

“Congratulations,” I said. “Where?”

“The other end of Myrtle Beach.” He sat in his chair. “Mad Hatter II, it will be just like this place.”

“I’m sure it will be very successful,” I said, and I meant it. Adam was a good businessman. He knew how to bring in business and how to keep it. I had no doubt this place made him a lot of money.

“I’m going to be spending a lot of time at the new club in the next couple months, getting it open, training the staff, and making sure it runs as smooth as this place.”

“Okay,” I said, not sure why he was telling me all this.

“I need someone to manage this place while I’m doing that. I don’t want business here to suffer because I’m not always around like I am now.”

A little part of me was let down at the prospect of not seeing him every night I was here. Without really even trying, he’d become a constant in my life. Even if I only saw him from across the room on busy nights or from the pole on the stage, I liked knowing he was around.

And now he would be around less.

“Roxie,” he said, calling me back to the conversation.

“Sorry,” I muttered. “Yeah?”

“I want you to manage this place when I’m not here.”

“Me!” I shrieked.

“Yeah.” His lip curled up like he was amused. “You.”

I was shocked to say the least. Never in a million years would I think he was going to offer me something like this. “I’m just a stripper,” I said.

“You are not,” he growled. His angry tone made me look up. He was scowling at me darkly. “Sometimes I wonder how the hell you even ended up here,” he muttered to himself, but I still heard him.

The words caused a pang of something close to embarrassment to flash through my center. Here wasn’t where I thought I’d be. Not in a million years.

“Insulting me isn’t going to make me want the job,” I snapped.

“It was a compliment,” he snapped back.

I laughed.

“Fuck,” he muttered and scrubbed a hand over his face. “You know this place inside and out. You’ve been here longer than any of the other girls, you know how to handle the crowd, the bar, and I know damn well there’s a big brain beneath all that,” he said, motioning toward my body.

A big brain? Did he seriously just say that?

“I don’t hear your customers complaining about all this,” I said, motioning to myself.

He slapped his palm on the desktop, making a loud smacking sound. I jumped like a weenie. “Dammit, Roxie,” he rumbled. “Quit acting like I’m insulting you.”

I stared at him in stony silence.

He blew out a breath. “I meant you’re the whole package. Looks and brains.”

I wanted to tease him further. A million comebacks danced on my tongue. But I held them back. His cheekbones were turning pink, and I found it extremely charming that he was trying so hard to compliment me yet still failing so miserably.

“Thank you, Adam,” I said, muffling a smile.

He grunted.

“Can I still dance?” I asked. “If I take your offer?”

“No,” he said darkly.

It caught me off guard. I didn’t expect such a stark denial.

“Well, why not?”

“Because you’re going to be busy managing.”

I sighed. As much as I loved the idea of not stripping anymore and taking on a better job here, I couldn’t. “I can’t.”

“What the hell do you mean you can’t?” he bellowed.

“I need the money.” No other profession made me as much as stripping. It seemed a little ironic that the thing I wanted away from was the thing I had to hold on to just to get away.

I think I just confused myself.

“The job comes with a raise. A good one,” Adam said, breaking into my confusion.

A raise was enticing; it made it even harder to say no. Even still, it likely didn’t pay as much as I would make on the pole.

I started to shake my head, but a stubborn look crossed his face and he held up his hand. “You’re fired.”

“What!” I yelled and burst out of my chair. The towel and brush fell onto the tile floor with a clatter. “You can’t fire me!”

“The hell I can’t!” he argued, also jumping to his feet.

“Oh yeah!” I said. “On what grounds?”

“You’re a pain in my ass!” he yelled.

“Well, you’re a pain in mine!” I yelled back. I gave a huff and crossed my arms. “You can’t fire me because I’m a pain in the ass.” I resisted the urge to stick out my tongue.

“How about drinking on the job?” he said quietly.

Shit. He saw.

I sank down in the chair. “I need this job, Adam.”

“Fucking A,” Adam swore. His cursing was laced with regret, and he pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I’m trying to give you a better job.”

“You think I like stripping?” I asked. “You think I don’t wanna take your offer?”

“Then why don’t you?” He came around the desk again to stare down at me.