Nothing But Trouble

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by Ashley Bostock


  “Get ahold of me some time, man.” He threw a fifty down and scooped his jacket up from the stool. Nodding at the woman as he scooted past them.

  “Take care, man. Hope you get your shit figured out.”

  Yeah. He hoped he got his shit figured out, too. As it stood though, there wasn’t anything to figure out. Sophia was who she was, and he needed to forget her. Maybe he could manage a guy’s weekend away. Vegas, maybe? He walked out of the club and called Cole.

  “Dude. I need to get away. How about we fly out to Vegas for the night?”

  “Women troubles?”

  “Nothing a night in Vegas won’t cure,” Michael said.

  “Sorry to burst your bubble man, but Dylan and I both have meetings we can’t miss in the morning.”

  Michael let out a groan. “What the hell? Cancel it.”

  “Can’t. What’s got your panties in such a bundle? What woman did a number on you now?”

  “It’s nothing. Forget it,” Michael said.

  “It’s nothing or something? Or someone?” Cole tried to clarify.

  “Sophia Baldwin. She’s a stripper.”

  “Oh man, wait. I have to put you on speaker. Dylan, you’ve got to hear this. Michael’s panties are in a bundle over a stripper.” Cole clicked the phone over to speaker for Dylan to listen in on the conversation.

  “Fuck you,” Michael said. “She’s not like normal strippers. Not the kind that you have lusting all over you at the Vegas Club. Nothing like that.”

  “Then what’s her problem?” Dylan asked.

  “Mindy told me—”

  “Stop right there, dude. You’re still talking to Mindy?” Dylan asked.

  “Since fucking when?” Cole piped in.

  “Since she calls and shows up unannounced. Anyway, she’s the one that found out Sophia is a gold-digging stripper.”

  “I don’t know what this Sophia chick did to you, man, but considering what Mindy did to you, are you sure you should be listening to anything Mindy has to say?” Dylan said. “I mean, I’m not the smartest guy out there—”

  “He jokes. The cat’s got a Ph. D from Harvard—” Cole chimed in.

  Michael shook his head. “I can’t fucking take either of you right now.”

  As Michael went to hang up, he could still hear Dylan yelling at Michael to think about what Dylan had said. So much for them being on Michael’s side. They didn’t even know Sophia, and they were already giving her the benefit of the doubt?

  Was this what it had always felt like when he was alone? He’d never noticed it before. Not until Sophia had come into his world, anyway. Now that she was out of it, he couldn’t recall a time he’d felt so alone in his life.

  Hell, he needed another drink.

  Chapter Fourteen

  “I’m so glad to see you up and around, Grandma.”

  “I feel pretty good.” Her grandma said in a soft voice.

  Sophia helped her grandma to the kitchen table, where Sophia had already set out their dinner – mashed potatoes and meatloaf. “Will this be okay? I wasn’t sure what you might want.”

  “Sophia, it’s fine. Stop fussing.”

  “I can’t help it, Grandma. You had me worried there for a while. I’m just glad you’re feeling so much better.”

  Her grandma gave her a suspicious look. “What aren’t you telling me, Sophia?”

  She sighed. Leave it to her grandma to bring up what she was hoping would go unnoticed. For weeks, Sophia had been miserable. Miserable over whatever it was Michael wasn’t telling her and she’d been able to avoid saying anything to her grandma. Sophia called Michael one last time two nights ago, and when it went to voicemail yet again, she had finally given up. No more. If he wanted to walk away from her over this mishap of not telling him where she worked, so be it. She was still in shock about the way the entire lap dance played out, her orgasm and all, but she thought after the intensity of all of that, they could get through this problem. Sophia was so wrong.

  “Spill it, Sophia.”

  “It’s Michael. We aren’t seeing each other anymore.”

  Her grandmother reached across the table and gripped Sophia’s hand in a surprisingly firm hold. “What happened?”

  “We had a misunderstanding, and now he won’t even speak with me.” Sophia left out the part where she tried stalking him on Together.com and how he had even deleted his fake profile.

  “And just like that, you’re going to let him go?”

  “Grandma, what choice do I have? It’s not like he’ll even answer his phone!” Her body temperature was already on the rise, and while this wasn’t her grandmother’s fault, she hated the feelings that were surfacing inside her. She hated that she hadn’t told him the whole story, even though he hadn’t asked. She hated that he was upset and angry about her job choice, and she hated that she had loved dancing in his lap.

  “Do you really like this man, Sophia?”

  Oh, yeah, she liked this man. More than she’d liked anything in her adult life. She didn’t even have to answer her grandma. Sophia’s grandmother could see the “hell yeah I like him” written all over her face.

  “Go after him then,” she said with her rough voice as she shoveled more meatloaf into her mouth.

  “Go after him? Like, go find him and confront him?” Sophia gasped.

  Her grandmother didn’t answer, only nodded. The two of them finished their meal in silence. Sophia was sure her grandma was allowing her time to think things over. Ever the thoughtful granny. She guessed she could go and find him. Would that only humiliate her even further? She could only withstand so much. She helped her little old lady back into her bedroom and cleaned up the dishes; neither of them spoke of anything more. The entire time Sophia pondered how she could confront him. She could show up at his work. Corner him and demand he speak with her. Or Sophia could take the bus over to his penthouse and hope he let her in.

  She was on the schedule tonight and was wishing that she didn’t have to go in. After the dance she did for Michael, everything else had been hollow. Numb. Every song, every turn, every move on the pole, had been all wrong. Like she suddenly didn’t belong up on that stage with those blinding lights. Michael’s dance was the ending she couldn’t have. The ending she wasn’t expecting. Granted, it wasn’t like she was trying to get an Oscar for her performances, but she had at least cared. He’d stolen something from Sophia that night – her soul, her heart, her body – she wasn’t sure what it was, and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever get it back.

  At work that night, she managed to avoid giving any lap dances. Her heart wasn’t in it anymore, and she knew Jericho and everyone else could see it. Especially the patrons. As she was heading back to her dressing room, Jericho stopped her.

  “What the hell’s going on with you?”

  “Nothing.” The lie rolled off Sophia’s tongue so easily.

  “Is this about Michael?”

  Sophia tilted her head to the side. She was terrible at hiding her emotions, especially from people that knew her. Jericho had never been one to step into her personal life, but she guessed since he was the one that put Michael in the Alabaster room to be begin with, he wasn’t completely clueless.

  “Yes. I promise though, I’ll do better. I’m just in a slight funk. A detour, if you will.”

  He shook his head at her, his golden eyes bored into hers. “That’s not good enough, Sophia.”

  Sophia raised her hands to her chest. “What is? You can’t fire me, Jericho. Please. You can’t.”

  “Jesus, I’m not going to fire you – do I have that reputation? But you can’t keep going up there the way you are. Go talk to Michael. This has got to stop, because if you continue like this, then it will become a problem. Consider this a night off.”

  “Michael won’t talk to me. I’ve tried.”

  Jericho tilted his head, and Sophia faked a laugh. “Don’t look so surprised. I didn’t tell him I worked here. I’m sure if he’d known, he probably wouldn’
t have taken me out in the first place.”

  “This is all about you working here?” Jericho asked incredulously.

  Sophia shrugged, because hello? What else would it be? Michael was a big bad C.E.O of a highly successful website, a man women swooned over. He had the looks and the attitude to go with it. He was in the celebrity columns more times than she could count. Money to personally buy whatever and whoever he wanted. What would he want with a stripper?

  “You sure? He was in here earlier.”

  Her heart dropped at the thought of Michael being at The Glass House and not getting to see him. Did he watch the other women? Receive a lap dance from Zee or Rhonda? Even Teddy. Or any of the other girls that covered the floor. Bile rose in her throat as she thought of any one of those women doing to Michael what she did for him. Straight up jealousy that she had no right to seeped deep into her chest, burning like red lava into her throat.

  “Not for a show, Sophia,” Jericho clarified.

  She braced herself for what he was saying, wanting it to be possible but somehow knowing it wasn’t going to be.

  “What was he here for?” To see me?

  “Nothing. He was crabby. Had two drinks and left.”

  “That’s it? He didn’t ask for me? Say anything? Even about…” Sophia’s voice trailed off.

  “You? I told him you weren’t here. He said…” Jericho stopped, and she knew by the way his mouth opened in a slight O shape and the small sigh that escaped, that he was putting two and two together. About what, she couldn’t tell, but her heart began to speed up waiting for him to say something.

  “Shit, Sophia.”

  “What, Jericho? What did he say?” her voice rose in pitch.

  “The dumb bastard thinks you’re after his money.”

  Her heart dropped once again into her stomach. “What?” she whispered.

  “I don’t know, I’m just assuming here. He said you’re like every other woman he’s met. I didn’t get it at first until right now. He said you’re money-hungry. I don’t know where he got that from.”

  “Probably from the lap dance he paid me a thousand dollars for!” She shrieked.

  Jericho’s chest deflated like he’d been holding his breath. “And you took it?”

  “I had to. For my grandma! This is so bad, Jericho. How stupid could I have been? Dr. Ranger prescribed this medicine for my grandma. Remember she’s been real sick?”

  “Yeah, yeah. Go on,” he said.

  “Insurance wouldn’t cover it. It was thirteen-hundred dollars. I had no choice. In all honesty, he couldn’t have come into the club at a better time with what he paid me. I needed the money. Remember when I—”

  “When you asked if you could pick up extra hours, and then Tina—”

  “Tina interrupted us because Ernest was passed out in the men’s bathroom and—”

  “I remember looking back to you saying it was fine. That was ’cause of your grandma?”

  “Yeah. She needed the medication. I don’t have that kind of money, Jericho. That night Michael came? He paid me a thousand dollars, and I took it.”

  “And now he thinks all you’re after is his money.”

  “And, why wouldn’t he? How many women get offered a thousand dollars to do a fucking strip show? This is so bad. Why would he do that to me?” Sophia screamed. “I wouldn’t have taken it if he hadn’t come in here all sexy and brooding, demanding that I dance for him. Threatening to complain to you when I told him I didn’t want to do it. Now he’s made a mess of everything!”

  “Yeah, I’m not sure it was all him.”

  Sophia put her hand on her hip. “What do you mean by that? You think this was my fault for not telling him I worked here?”

  “Not that. I get the feeling someone else has put him up to this.”

  Her cheeks had to be bright red, because she could feel them burning. Her chest was heaving like she’d just run a 5k, and her mind whirled about who could possibly want to ruin her relationship with Michael. Ah, Mindy. That was who. How could Sophia be so naïve? Mindy was spiteful and jealous. According to Michael, this was something she would do. Even though Sophia had only met the woman once, she knew her kind. Saw the way Mindy had fawned all over Michael at the gala and acted as if she was the center of his world. The ache in Sophia’s heart hollowed at the realization of what this meant. He would listen to Mindy? He would allow her to insert her way into his life after the way she treated him? What she did to him? And not give Sophia a chance to even explain herself?

  The realization of the kind of hold Mindy still had on Michael, singed a whole in her heart. More so because when she looked into Michael’s eyes and saw the care there, Sophia felt like he was falling for her as much as she was him. Felt like the connection was so much more than a fake engagement. Sophia knew with her heart that she wanted to fight for this man. If he was willing to ruin the beginnings of whatever it was the two of them had, fake engagement or otherwise, over Mindy, did they have anything worth exploring at all though? Would Mindy always be on the outskirts of his life? Teasing him, wanting him back, and always trying to ruin him ever having a chance to move forward?

  The big question was why was he too stupid to recognize this? To allow Mindy to do this to him? Did he still have feelings for her? If Sophia could see this a million miles away, why couldn’t Michael recognize Mindy for the nasty woman she was? Instead, he thought Sophia was interested in him only for his money. All because of Mindy.

  Sophia’s nostrils flared with every heave of her chest. Who did that woman think she was?

  “I’m going to find him.”

  Jericho didn’t say a word as Sophia waltzed past him, out of The Glass House and into the night. She was going to his penthouse. He would hear what she damn-well had to say. She didn't know if it would make a difference, but Michael owed it to her, his fake fiancée, to hear her out.

  There was no way Sophia was giving that treacherous bitch the last word.

  Light snow peppered the air when the bus came to a halt. As luck would have it, Aslan was standing at the curb near the limo in front of Michael’s building when Sophia got off the bus.

  Full of confident anger that had built on the ride over, she stood in front of the burly man, making sure she lengthened her back to stand as tall as she could. “Where’s Michael?”

  He raised his eyebrows at her, and her hardness faltered under his gaze.

  “I’m sorry, okay? Please tell me where he is. I have to see him.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Aslan, please. I’m not asking for his key. I just have to know—”

  “What do you want, Sophia?”

  Her neck prickled as Michael’s stern voice washed over her. She didn’t turn away from Aslan right away, because she didn’t want to see the disappointment on Michael’s face. The anger she could hear in his voice, the fact that she was unwelcome. Be strong. He was a man of power. A man used to getting what he wanted. She would not crumble.

  This required her A-game.

  “We need to talk. After I agreed to be your fiancée, not even knowing you, you owe it to me to listen to me.” Her voice came out firm and steady and she couldn’t help but be relieved.

  He was silent for so long Sophia turned around, hoping he hadn’t walked away. The fresh cut above his eye took her by surprise, and she forgot all about her anger.

  “Michael, what happened?” She was on him instantly, assessing more of his face and the rest of his body. “Are you hurt anywhere else?”

  She roamed her gaze over him, his rumpled white-collared shirt and his black pants. When she reached up to turn his face to get a better look, he flinched. She dropped her hand.

  “I’m fine,” he replied.

  His eyes were hollow, filled with a void she didn’t like. She couldn't read them. Not like that night at the club where she could see every one of his emotions play across his face. He had his guard up, and she ignored the stab of pain in her gut. They had to start ov
er. The few weeks they’d spent together had been washed away by Mindy. Sophia bristled once again over the woman’s ironclad hold on Michael.

  “Aslan, you can take off. I will call you when I need you.”

  “Very well.” He tilted his head at Sophia in a farewell. She rolled her eyes at Aslan’s back.

  “Are you going to listen to what I have to say or not?” she asked Michael.

  “We can go inside.”

  Sophia followed him in, and when he stepped inside the door to hold it open for her, she brushed against him hoping his attraction for her was still there. At least. Even if he thought she was up to no good.

  Once inside his penthouse, Sophia’s cheeks heated at the memory of the last time she was in there. When their relationship wasn’t tainted by The Glass House and ideas of using his elite status for her necessities. It hadn’t changed. Still looked masculine with the beige and black decorations, empty of all things personal. There had to be more to Michael than Together and this impersonal, immaculate suite.

  He moved to the sink and washed his hands. God, she missed him so much. The way the water spilled over his hands as he rubbed them together and how an errant strand of hair fell across his forehead had her aching to touch him and Sophia wondered if his thoughts were like hers. Their touching, him sucking on her breasts in such a frenzied manner he hadn’t even taken her sweater off. The way he cupped them in his hands as if they were the best things since cable television. That was before she knew what it was like to kiss him, and she had been every bit as enthralled then as she was now.

  Except now she was angrily enthralled with him.

  “So you got into a fight?”

  “It was a small scuffle,” he smirked.

  “Looks like a pretty good cut from such a small scuffle.”

  “It happens.” He shrugged.

  “Who did you get into a fight with?” Sophia said.

  “Does it matter?”

  “It matters to me. I’m not the girl you think I am, Michael.”

 

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