I no more than pull out of the dorm parking lot when my phone buzzes to life. Grabbing it out of my passenger seat, I immediately smile when I see Bentley's name dancing across the screen.
“I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me.” I answer, immediately giving him crap for not calling in three days.
“How could I forget about you? When I close my eyes, you're there. When I open them, you're there. Well, in my mind anyways.” He lets out a gruff laugh. “Seriously, you are all I can think about.” His tone turns dark and deep and instantly sends a growing hunger ripping through my lower belly.
“In that case, I forgive you.” I try to keep the giggly tone from my voice but it doesn't do me much good.
“How is everything? Tell me what you're doing right now.” He breathes into the phone.
“Everything is okay.” I say, shrugging even though he can't see me. “I am heading to the club to get my check right now.”
“But I thought you were moving today?” He questions, not missing a thing.
“I was. Andrea has a guest over and I thought I would give them some privacy.” I shake my head, trying to keep the annoyed tone from my voice.
“What do you mean she has a guest over? Like a guy?” He questions.
“It's Andrea.” I laugh. “Of course it's a guy. Anyways. I guess his dorm room won't be ready for a couple of days so Andrea offered to let him stay with us.” I sigh, clearly not happy about the arrangement.
“Absolutely not.” His tone cuts crisp through the phone and takes me back a bit.
“What?” I blurt, confused by his reaction.
“You are not sleeping in your dorm with another guy.” He bites, his tone bordering anger which only confuses me more.
“I'm sorry. Did I miss something here?” I ask, trying to keep my defensiveness at bay.
“Apparently you missed the part where you are now in a committed relationship and there are certain things that used to be considered acceptable that now no longer are.”
“Wait. Back up.” I'm not sure if I should be laughing or screaming right now so I try to keep my voice as even as possible. “Are you trying to tell me that if my roommate has a guy over for the night that it is not acceptable for me to stay there as well?”
“That's exactly what I am saying.”
“Do you realize how ridiculous you sound?” I ask, wondering how this conversation went south so quickly. “What would you have me do, sleep in my car?”
“I'm sure Patty would be more than happy to extend your stay for a couple more days given the circumstances.”
“Absolutely not.” I cut him off before he has a chance to continue. “I am going to stay in my dorm room because that is where I live.” I say, matter of fact.
“Then you won't mind if I have a female guest stay the night in my hotel room.” He snips. “I mean, she will only sleep on the couch. I promise.” He says, causing me to literally burst into laughter at how stupid he sounds.
“Well then have fun asshole.” I bite, disconnecting the call and throwing it into my passenger seat.
By the time I pull up outside of Allure, I am so pissed I can barely see straight. Throwing the car into park, I lean my head back against the headrest and take deep breaths, trying to calm the shake of my hands.
I have never heard Bentley talk to anyone that way before, least of all me. I don't understand why he chose to make something so small such a big deal. Is he that unsure of me that he would believe that I would sleep with my best friend's boyfriend? The thought stirs an uneasiness deep in the pit of my stomach and I quickly push myself out of the car, needing to distract myself.
It takes me only two minutes before I am knocking on the door of the back office, hoping that Josh will let me get in and out without any type of altercation. Not that he is outright mean to me, it's more of the looks that he gives me than anything else.
“Come in.” I hear his voice on the other side of the door before pushing my way inside.
“Hey. I just came to get my check.” I say, watching him pull off his reading glasses and sit back in his chair to look at me.
“In the basket.” He points to a stack of envelopes laying on top of the filing cabinet next to the door. “Though I must say.” He tacks on just as I turn. “Mr. Reed must have really put you to work in Washington.” He grins maliciously and crosses his arms in front of his chest.
“What are you getting at Josh?” I bite, finding my envelope in the stack and tearing open the flap, double checking the amount before I leave, something I always do.
Josh doesn't say a word, clearly expecting my reaction when my eyes widen at how much my check is. “Like I said.” He almost laughs. “You must have really worked hard.”
“What the fuck is this?” I bite. Between Bentley's little jealous rant earlier and now Josh's snide remarks, I can feel my temper flaring to the surface and I know I am seconds away from losing my mind on someone.
“Your paycheck.” He says, sliding his glasses back onto his face.
“But this isn't right.” I object.
“Then perhaps you should talk to Mr. Reed. All I do is issue the checks.” He says, pretending to turn his attention back to the paperwork in front of him, even though I know he is more than enjoying the show.
“No. You can talk to him.” I say, crossing the small space and dropping the envelope on top of the file he is pretending to care about. “Can I just have my normal paycheck please.” I say, crossing my arms in front of my chest.
“This is your paycheck Logan. Again, perhaps you should take it up with your boyfriend. Apparently he thinks you earned it.” He says, hitting me with a wicked glare.
“Fuck you.” The words rip from my chest and echo off the walls around us.
“Excuse me?” He stands, throwing his glasses on the desk, his face void of anything but anger.
“What the fuck is your problem Josh?” I don't try to reign in my voice, knowing full well that anyone passing is likely to hear us.
“Me? What the fuck is your problem? Fucking my boss and then throwing it my face isn't bad enough? Now you gotta really make your point?” His nostrils flare and I can tell that his temper is hanging by a thread, threatening to break off at any moment and unleash all the hurt and anger that he clearly needs to get out.
“I thought you said you weren't like them Logan? I thought you said you were different? You let him fly you across the country and then pay you double my monthly salary for one week. For what Logan? Services rendered? You are no better than any of them. You are a WHORE!” He screams the word in my face, causing me to take a step back. “You are a whore just like the rest of them.”
“You think he hasn't done this before?” He asks, catching my shocked expression at his words. “I can't count how many times I have cut paychecks for girls who have gone on trips with him or helped him with a special project.” He puts an emphasis on the word special, really driving his point home. “Of course, no one hangs around very long after the fact. I guess that works out to his benefit.”
“You are nothing but a whore to him Logan. The sooner you realize that, the better. Now get the fuck out of my office.” He spits, shoving his desk at least six inches across the floor causing me to jump backwards.
“You are a fucking hypocrite Josh.” I spit, feeling the angry tears build behind my eyes. “You had no problem bringing me on here, getting me a top salary, letting me work whatever and whenever I wanted. All I had to do was fuck you and you gave me anything I asked for. You are no better than him Josh. The only difference is, he doesn't try to pretend he's something else.” I can see the wound my words cause the moment they leave my lips. I can see it in his eyes. In the way he is staring back at me. I have finally pushed him to his breaking point.
“What is going on in here?” Malcolm pushes his way inside of the office and looks back and forth between me and Josh who are currently seconds away from ripping each other apart.
“Go ahead, te
ll him Logan. Tell him how you are now Mr. Reed's paid whore.” He spits, causing Malcolm to step between us.
“That's enough Josh.” His voice is calm but there is a threat behind it, even I can see that.
Not able to take anymore, I quickly turn and tear out of the office, taking off in a sprint down the hallway and into the parking lot, managing to hold my tears in until I am in the drivers seat of my car. Punching my steering wheel so hard that the horn sticks and the noise blares through the parking lot, I have to punch it two more times to get it to stop. Reaching a point where I feel like my control has slipped away, I drop my head into my hands, not able to get a grasp on the raw emotion coursing through me.
I am pissed at Josh for the way he's treating me. I am pissed at Andrea for having that stupid guy over so that I can't just go home and cry to my best friend. I am pissed at Bentley for thinking he can tell me what to do and for issuing me a paycheck I didn't earn, which makes me feel very much like the whore Josh claims me to be. I agreed to let him pay me for Tuesday night, not for two months.
But I think more than anything, I'm just hurt.
Josh may hate that I'm with Bentley. Hell, he may even hate me. But that doesn't change the fact that I believe every word he said about me not being the first girl Bentley has done this with. He owns clubs crawling with young beautiful women that would jump at the opportunity to be with him, even if for a short time. I am not stupid or naive and while I may be blinded by the way Bentley makes me feel, it doesn't mean that I am going to allow him to play me like some sort of fool.
Grabbing my phone, I ignore that I have three missed calls and text out a quick message before throwing it back onto the passenger seat. Right now I just want to find a bar and drink myself stupid. I hate this day. I hate everything about this day. And all I want to do is forget about it.
Bentley will read my message and then he can be the one stewing in uncertainty. Two can play this game.
You need to call Josh and fix my paycheck situation.
Perhaps you misunderstood my role in your life. I am not your
whore and I don't expect to be treated as such.
Chapter Seven
“When you said to come have a drink with you, I certainly did not envision finding you sitting at the bar alone, clearly already several drinks ahead of me.” Lo laughs, taking a seat in the stool next to mine. Signaling the bartender, who jumps the moment he catches sight of her, she orders a double round of shots and then turns her blue eyes on me. “Spill.” She says, not wasting time with small talk.
“You know. This is why I don't do relationships.” I slur out, clearly already having too much to drink to even talk straight. “Men think they can just tell you what to do and you are what, just expected to do it? I mean, seriously.” I snort, taking the shot of tequila that Lo scoots my way. Raising my glass, I clink it against hers and then pour the smooth liquid into my mouth.
Dropping the shot glass back onto the bar with a loud thud, I immediately take the second shot Lo hands me and repeat the process, chasing this one down with my foo foo mixed drink the bartender concocted for me. He named it Logan's Lemonade and from what I can tell by watching him make them all night, it consists of vodka, lemon juice, sour mix and a touch of sprite. I'm pretty sure it's a drink that already exists, only by a different name, but I decided to let him think that I believed his story about creating it just for me.
“So you are quickly realizing that having a boyfriend is not all it's cracked up to be.” Lo pulls me from my thoughts and raises her eyebrows at me.
“Boyfriend sounds so juvenile.” I whine. “Bentley isn't my boyfriend. He's my man.” I say the word funny and shimmy my hips causing Lo to laugh out.
“Well if he's your man.” She impersonates me. “Then why are you sitting here, alone, three sheets to the wind?”
“Because I....” I stumble, thinking over my choice of words wisely before speaking them out loud, which proves rather difficult given my impaired state. “Josh called me a whore.” I can't tell if the statement comes out mad or hurt but Lo's eyes immediately widen at my statement.
“He didn't?” She gapes at me in disbelief.
“Oh trust me, he had a few choice words for me and they were not the friendly kind.” I shrug, taking another long sip of my drink.
“Girl, you can't let asshat Josh bring you down. You know that he is just pissed that you are with Bentley and not him. You can't take the shit he says personally.”
“Sure feels personal.” I pin my eyes on hers. “Bentley paid me like ten times my normal salary for the days I spent with him in Washington.” I say, watching her expression as she registers what I am telling her. She knows Josh issues the paychecks for the dancers, so she automatically knows that he was privy to this information. “I refused to take it.” I immediately continue. “I agree that it's not fair for me to receive special treatment for no reason other than I am dating the owner.”
“Well you are a better woman than I.” She says, signaling the bartender again who holds up his finger, telling Lo to give him a minute.
“How so?” I ask, confused by her statement.
“Because if that were me, I would take that shit and run. Seriously Anna. If the man wants to give you money, let him. It's not like you can't use it.”
“It feels wrong. It makes me feel like he's paying me for.....” I break off.
“For sleeping with him?” She laughs on her words. “Girl, sleeping with a man like that is sure to be payment all its own. I don't think money is necessary. Did you ever consider that maybe he knows you need the money for school and he's trying to help?” She asks.
“But I don't want his money Lo. I want to continue to take care of myself like I always have. I don't want him to ever view me as a burden or a drain on his wallet. I couldn't live with myself.” I whine.
“Are you even listening to yourself? Do you realize how ridiculous you sound?” She asks, an annoyed expression tightening her beautiful face.
“Hey.” I protest, slapping her lightly across the arm.
“I'm serious. You have this amazing man who has turned his back on his playboy ways for the chance to get to be with you. You, Anna. Of all the women in the world, that fine specimen of a man wants you. And you want to pick apart every little thing he does for you.” She says, turning her attention to the bartender when he approaches.
“Another.” She says, not even giving him time to get one word out. He nods and immediately retrieves the bottle of tequila, refilling our empty shot glasses in seconds. Giving Lo a flirtatious smile, he quickly turns and tends to another customer at the other end of the bar.
“What's with dude?” She asks, watching his backside as he pours a round of shots for some college aged kids.
“Which one?” I ask, not sure if she is referring to the bartender or one of the guys at the end of the bar.
“The hot ass bartender Anna. Duh.” She pins her eyes back on me.
“Not sure. He seems nice enough. Made me my own drink.” I laugh, taking a long drink and then hitting her with a goofy smile.
“Dear lord. How drunk are you?” She asks, cocking her head to the side.
“Drunk enough not to take another shot with you.” I laugh, shaking my head when she attempts to hand me one of the four shots sitting in front of her.
“You can't make me drink these all by myself.” She pouts, continuing to hold the glass in front of my face.
“Fine.” I finally cave, taking the shot glass and immediately dumping it into my mouth, coughing slightly when it goes down the wrong hole and for a moment, threatens to come back up.
Lo takes the other three shots back to back and then turns a cheeky smile in my direction. “You know what I think?” She asks, her eyes glazing over a bit, giving away that the alcohol is starting to take effect. “I think that you are in love with him and I think that terrifies you.” She says, pointing her finger at me. “I think it terrifies you and now you are looking for excus
es to end it.”
“But I don't want to end it.” I pipe in, my words slurring together.
“And now we are at the root of the real problem.” She says, taking the bottle of tequila that the bartender left in front of us and pouring herself two more shots, which she proceeds to take before turning back to me.
“You are in love with him but you don't want to be. You don't want a relationship but you can't bare to walk away from him. You want your independence but a small part of you is dying to just turn all the control over to Bentley and let him take care of you. You are trapped between who you have always been and who Bentley makes you want to be.” She says, giving me a bright smile that says the tequila has more than worked its way into her bloodstream. But even still, her words make sense.
“Well then tell me....” I pause, taking a drink. “What do I do?” I ask, pinning my eyes directly on her. She doesn't meet my gaze at first. Instead, she stares off into space and rubs her chin like she is really thinking this through, though I know that she is one hundred percent doing it for dramatic effect.
“I got it.” She finally declares, turning her gaze to me. “Tell him you love him.” She smiles widely at me.
“What?” I ask in disbelief. “That's your big plan?”
“Think about it. You love him. Don't deny it.” She spits, seeing me about to protest. “You love him, admit it.”
I don't want to admit it. I want to roll it into a ball and tuck it somewhere deep inside of me where no one will ever find it. But given my current mental state and the amount of emotion running through me, I find my words coming out without actually meaning to speak them.
“I do.” My words are weak and I can literally see Lo's eyes widen with my confession, which tells me she was not expecting me to cave. “I love him.” I say, shaking my head.
“God love you. There is hope for you yet.” She laughs. “Give me your phone.” She holds out her hand to me.
“I left it in the car.” I admit, shrugging slightly when she rolls her eyes at me.
You and I Together Page 5
