Nothing But Trouble

by Ashley Bostock

  The crowd hollered, some threw bills onto the stage, and she continued her number. She did a little jig near the edge of the stage, flirting and smiling at the men sitting closest to her, and one of the guys shoved some money into her cutoffs. She unbuttoned them, letting them fall to the floor and used her boot to fling the shorts behind her back, into the darkness of the backstage. She perched along the edge of the stage, spreading her legs wide and bending her knees, teasing the men that sat there. Sophia pushed one guy’s head forward into her crotch, taking the twenty he held up in his hand.

  “Smells like heaven, darling.” The man bared his teeth as she moved away.

  More bills thrown, more hollering. This was her night, most nights. She danced, bared her girls and got paid. Simple as that. Every night, she tucked away twenty-five percent of her earnings into a bank account she’d opened solely for her college tuition. It was Sophia’s someday fund. Someday she was going to become a nurse. One class at a time. Oddly enough, coming here almost every night, fed the drive in her to not give up on her dream. It gave her the will to keep moving so she knew—believed—that one day, she’d leave this place and never look back. She didn’t have a whole lot of money saved, and there had been times where she’d been desperate and had to use some of it. But mostly, she didn’t touch the money.

  Her grandma received a monthly check and between that and Sophia’s dancing, they managed to pay their meager apartment rent as well as all their other necessities. Sure, sometimes her utility bills were in the arrears, but she tried to manage. She didn’t love stripping but there were nights she’d come home with more money than some people made in a week. For that, she knew she was fortunate. It could be worse. That was how she looked at her life.

  She looked out to the crowd. It could be worse. She hauled herself up onto the pole, by gripping the pole with her hands and pulling her legs, spread eagle above her arms and over her shoulders, and spun. Around and around. She loved that move. Soaking in the heavy beat as Luke Bryan crooned on about boot stompin’, with the crowd screaming and the lights burning into her skin, it felt like she was flying. As frowned upon as stripteases were to the general public, aside from the cash, this was what had her coming back to this place with its shag carpet and purple velvet upholstered chairs. The adrenaline. It was invigorating. How she imagined skydiving would be.

  The song came to an end, and she scrambled down to collect all the bills that hadn’t made it into her thong.

  “Atta girl! That’s how it’s done, honey!” A few men hollered.

  She smiled and did her obligatory thanks and headed off the stage.

  The night dragged on, Sophia’s headache never went away, and all she could think about was Michael. Was he working? Thinking of her? She had his number memorized. She could grab her phone and say hi. Then she realized it was two-thirty in the morning and while she knew Michael was a workaholic, she didn’t believe he was burning the midnight oil.

  “You did great out there. Maybe it’s the song and the country girl look.” Zee waltzed into the room wearing nothing but a choker necklace and a blue-haired wig.

  “Maybe so. Maybe the crowd tonight is more into country, then…then, whatever it is you’re trying to be.”

  “A mermaid.”

  Sophia diverted her gaze. “Hmmm. Not sure the mermaid fantasy works for the majority of men out there.”

  “It did for one guy. He asked if I would let him pet my tail,” Zee laughed.

  “That’s unsettling to say the least.”

  “He was hot. Might take him up on the offer.” Zee flung her head left and right and Sophia suppressed a shudder.

  “Yeah, but one guy liking the mermaid get-up isn’t going to bring in the money.”

  Zee smiled, “It will if I charge him for it.”

  Sophia shook her head as she put on her street clothes. Zee wasn’t beyond screwing anybody if she got paid for it. That was a ‘no’ for Sophia. She unraveled the two French braids she did earlier out of her hair. She was done with tonight. Another day would begin tomorrow night. She needed sleep. Heading on twenty-four hours straight, she was glad she had enough sense not to call Michael. It was times like tonight that she wondered what in the hell she was thinking when she agreed to take on volunteer hours with the Art Foundation. Her life seemed to be so busy and often, draining; she wasn’t sure if it had been the best decision.

  She was ecstatic Michael had taken her to the gala. He hadn’t yet asked her what she did for a living and honestly, she didn’t know what he’d think once he found out. It was hard to guess. Dancing on stage was something most people found, well, trashy. Especially if you were the CEO of Together.com. Sophia could see where that might ruffle some feathers. Where it might shake down his public image.

  She did her job, made enough money, and respected the hell out of the girls that did it for life. This was her job until she saved enough money for nursing school. She had already calculated the amount she needed to save. She took one class a semester and in two years, she would be able to enroll into the nursing program full-time and quit this job, living off a meager amount of money while she went full-time. It’d be thin, but she would make it work. Lord knows, there were times she hadn’t had enough money, foregoing dinner so her grandmother could eat. She could skip a few meals if she needed to when that time came. She’d done it before.

  Since Michael had made a fake profile for a date, she could only hope that he had a much more open mind than most people. But she wasn’t sure, and she was afraid to find out. On the other hand, she didn’t want to lie to him, but she didn’t want to offer him the info either. Wait and see was her motto for now.

  By the time she made it home, the sun was rising in the distance, and her grandma had just lain down for a nap. Alice, her grandma’s nurse, was just leaving as Sophia arrived.

  The nurse gave a small smile. “Eleanor has been having a much better morning. Be sure she takes these when she wakes up; otherwise, she’s been a trooper.”

  “Thanks, Alice.”

  “You just missed Dr. Ranger. He has a prescription here for her, but he said the price will be steep. It isn’t one of those kinds of medicine that has a generic either, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

  That had been exactly what she was thinking. Sophia’s heart dropped into the pit of her stomach at the thought of more medicine for her grandmother. “It’s okay. Her insurance will cover it.”

  Alice’s lips tightened into a thin line. “Dr. Ranger said most insurances don’t usually cover it. Not yet anyway. Still a bunch of stuff up in the air about it, I guess. Here it is. He said if you have any questions to give him a call. Good luck. I’ll see you soon.”

  Alice set the prescription order on the old Formica countertop, and Sophia couldn’t bear to even pick it up until she was out of sight. Ugh. Another prescription. Another fight with insurance. Another call that didn’t need to happen because in the end, they usually covered it. An all-around pain in the ass but doable.

  Seeing Alice out, Sophia dropped her duffel bag inside her bedroom and crossed the hall to her grandma’s room. Opening the door slowly, she peeked in to check on her. Her hair was no longer tight with curls from those plastic tubes she’d used for as long as Sophia could remember. Instead, her hair lay on top of her head combed back into some type of wave. Her eyes were closed, her cheeks sallow, her face boney. Her chest moved slowly up and down underneath the blanket and the wheezing of the oxygen tank gave Sophia comfort in her sadness.

  “Grandma, I hate seeing you like this,” she whispered. Her grandma was the strongest woman Sophia had ever had in her life, and watching her next-of-kin lay there at the mercy of everyone around her, Sophia prayed for her sake. She prayed her grandma wasn’t suffering, that she wasn’t suffering some kind of pain she couldn’t articulate to Sophia, or anyone else. She’d been in and out of lucidity, asking Sophia questions and talking and then she’d sleep for a long time. Sophia hated leaving her at night because she
wanted to be with her when she passed away. Looking at her now, she knew the time was near.

  Sophia closed her door quietly and found her phone. She wanted to talk to someone, not the insurance. She decided quickly it was a good time to call Michael. She dialed his number and willed him to answer. Two rings. Three. Maybe he couldn’t pick up. On the fifth ring, he finally answered.

  “Hello?” he said slightly out of breath.

  “Michael, it’s Sophia. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

  “Nope. I’m all yours. Good morning, Sophia.” His voice dropped into a husky greeting.

  “Good morning. Are you already at the office?

  “Just got done working out and finished with my shower.”

  Sophia swallowed as her mind became inundated with images of Michael naked. Of Michael working out. Michael showering with water dripping from his untamed dark hair, down his chest, over cut abs and down along his path of curly dark hair that led to all kinds of good things. Oh, boy. She stifled a laugh. Of course, she had no clue what he looked like underneath his tuxedo or his black suit that she was sure he wore to the office every day, but on no sleep, her fantasy was that he looked damn good. Every woman’s daydream.

  “Sophia? You there?”

  “Yeah, I’m here. I was just thinking…Um, thinking of you getting out of the shower.”

  His voice was low and seductive. “What were you thinking about specifically?”

  She envisioned his eyebrows wagging up and down in a suggestive manner much like they did at the gala every time he’d flirted with her. “How you look all wet.”

  He chuckled. “I’m thinking how you look all wet, too.”

  Her cheeks heated. She was sure he didn’t mean wet from the shower…well, maybe he meant that way, too.

  “Are you blushing?” he asked knowingly.

  “Yes.” She couldn’t say anything else because she was too busy thinking of the way he almost kissed her at the art gallery. How he almost kissed her when he dropped her off and wouldn’t. What the hell was that about? Was all of that a figment of Sophia’s imagination?

  “I’d be lying if I told you I haven’t thought about that.”

  “Me too,” she admitted.

  “Are you calling to plan a date?”

  “No. My grandma isn’t doing well, and I’m worried about her. I wanted someone to talk to, and I’ve been dying to hear your voice, so I thought, why not?” He didn’t need to be inundated with her grandmother’s prescription problem.

  “I’m sorry about your grandmother,” he said.

  “I know. Me too. I hate seeing her like this.”

  “I wouldn’t know what to do if our positions were reversed.”

  “Are you close to your grandma?” Sophia asked.

  “Oh yeah. Sometimes I think too close. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

  He released a deep chuckle that she was growing much too fond of, and she realized she wanted to do more than chat on the phone.

  Maybe a date was in order after all.

  Chapter Seven

  Michael pulled his towel from his hips and dried the rest of his body off as he balanced the phone between his ear and shoulder, wondering what Sophia would think if she knew he was completely naked now. He couldn’t help the semi-boner he had. That innocent voice she had made him hard. The fact that he knew she was on the other end of the line blushing as he thought about getting her all wet, well, fuck yeah he was hard. Plain and simple. What would she think if he told her that, too? Naked and fucking hard.

  He glanced down at his dick, confirming what he already knew. He looked away and shook his head. “What are you doing the rest of the day?”

  “Catching up on some sleep. You?” she asked.

  That was right. Taking care of her grandmother, she probably didn’t get a whole lot of sleep some nights.

  “Just work. Maybe we could get together today?”

  “I would like that. Since we’re engaged, it would be a good idea if we saw each other soon, wouldn’t it?”

  The gala seemed so long ago already and this was the first time he’d gotten the chance to speak with her. Julia had a fit the day after the gala where she’d found out about his fake fiancée. Then she showed up at his office demanding answers. If they were pretending to be a new couple that was happy in love, why in the hell weren’t they together – like glue, she’d yelled.

  Yes. Meeting with Sophia would be an excellent idea if they wanted to keep up their rouse.

  “I can pick you up around six. Would that work?” Michael asked.

  “Yes. I will see you at six.”

  “See you then.” Michael ended the call and when his phone rang again right away, he didn’t look to see who it was before answering automatically thinking it was Sophia again. “Yes?”

  “Michael. It’s me, Mindy.”

  He sighed. “What do you need, Mindy?”

  “I just wanted to talk to you. See how you’ve been. Maybe meet to catch up on each other’s lives. Have lunch. Dinner.”

  His stomach unsettled at the thought. “I don’t think so. You left me at the altar, Mindy. The fucking altar! Do you have any idea how terrible that is? How humiliating?” How badly she hurt him?

  “I’m sorry about that, Michael. I want to make it up to you. Let me, please. Anything you want.” Making sure her innuendo was clear, she spoke to him in that pouty voice she always used on him. The one that Michael liked. Correction. One that he used to like. Although his erection would say otherwise. He lied to himself that was Sophia’s doing and had nothing to do with Mindy. Her pouty voice, or her offer to make it up to him in any way he pleased. Shit. What was this? His dick grew harder and he hated that. He hated how his physical reaction to her was what it was even though he didn’t like her.

  “No, Mindy.”

  “Please, Michael. Think of all the things I could do to you. All the things I know you love. I could dance for you,” she said in a sultry voice.

  Damn it. He hated the fact that she left him high and dry, and he was still getting hard from her voice and the idea of her shaking her tits in his face as she ground herself along his leg to her favorite Def Leppard song.

  “Was there a reason you called? Or was it just to fuck with me?”

  “Yes, Michael. I want you. I want you to take me back.”

  “What about your fiancé?” he bit out.

  “We’re still a couple. I’m not dumb enough to ditch him yet. Not until I have you committed to me.”

  Michael rolled his eyes. A mixture of anger—that she hadn’t changed—as well as some odd, jealous feeling sliced through his chest at her words. “Whatever, Mindy. I’m hanging up. You and I together isn’t going to happen.”

  He ended the call, relieved his cock was getting back under control. He knew Mindy, and he knew that was just the tip of the iceberg. She’d keep going until she got what she wanted. Why she wanted him now, when she was engaged to whoever-the-hell he was, Michael didn’t know. He heard the guy had plenty of money, so it couldn’t be that. Maybe because she thought Michael was finally happy with Sophia, and she couldn’t let that happen. He hated Mindy for leaving him. But he’d never stopped loving her either. He’d always love her because when he fell for her, he was innocent enough to believe in happily ever after. Still didn’t like her though.

  He’d moved on from having any idea that they could be a couple. Three years ago. Hearing her admit that she wanted him back, pulled some ugly string inside his heart that he wanted to snip with fingernail clippers.

  “Damn it!”

  He got dressed in his black Armani suit, paired it with a silver tie and off to work he went. He tried desperately to get Mindy out of his mind. She was fucking with him. That was all. She didn’t want him back. At least he didn’t think she did. There was no way he’d go back to her. Besides, Michael was having fun with Sophia. He had no clue what it was, but he knew he wanted to see her more. He hadn’t looked forward to a date, in a lon
g time. He wanted to see her more than he’d wanted to see any other woman recently. Enough that he was looking forward to the next few weeks as a fake engaged couple. If he allowed Mindy back into his life, even for a second, she would screw that up fast as a tornado.

  Ignore Mindy. He told himself over and over until he got to the office. Thankfully, he had a busy day ahead of him, and that would be enough to keep thoughts of Mindy and Sophia at bay.

  “This is for you.” Regina shoved a manila folder into his hands as he made his way passed her desk.

  “Thanks.”

  “What’s wrong, Mr. Vilander?”

  “Nothing,” he lied.

  She made a tsking sound. “Your mom said Mindy came to the table last night and you’re engaged. Why am I the last one finding out about this?”

  “It’s complicated. Let me get through my first two appointments and I can fill you in. Tell you all the juicy details.”

  For once in her life, Regina nodded in agreement and didn’t press the issue. Michael stalked into his office, threw the folder down onto his desk, reached for his pen and pad of paper then headed back out.

  “Mindy’s on line two, Michael. What the hell?”

  He reached across her desk, grabbed the phone and hit line two.

  “Mindy?”

  “Michael?” That pouty fucking voice again.

  “Don’t call again.” He slammed the receiver down and turned to his grandmother. “Do not transfer her calls!”

  He stalked into his office where his day just kept getting better and better. He was meeting with the owner of To Eat or Wear to discuss the possibilities of working together. He’d throw their ads on Together, they would promote Together in their bridal magazine. Hopefully the meeting would go his way.

  After Michael’s meeting, Regina stood in his doorway, leaning against the frame.

  “Both meetings went well.” Michael stated, even though he knew that wasn’t why she was standing there tapping her foot from sheer impatience.