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The same guy from before hands me more money, and I purposely flirt with him in front of Connor. It’s a childish move, but it’s also part of the job. The more I sweet-talk my customers, the more they tip.
“How’s your night goin’?” Rhia asks from behind the bar.
“Not bad. My feet are killin’ me, though.”
“Put them in a bucket of ice when you get home, or you’ll regret it.”
I chuckle, grabbing the next tray of shots. “I always do.”
As I weave in and out of men getting lap dances and hollering at the dancers on stage, I can feel Connor’s deep blue eyes on me. I refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing I’m bothered by him being here, so I ignore him every chance I get. I have a million questions, the first being, what is he even doing three hours away from home at a strip club? Did he know I worked here? Did someone tell him? Was it a coincidence? And finally, how awkward will work be on Friday?
My guess is extremely unless I luck out, and he pretends he never saw me.
Doubtful.
I’m not ashamed to work here because the extra cash is great, but my parents would flip. They’d throw their wallets at me and tell me not to degrade myself. But the truth is, I’m twenty-three years old, and I want to pay for things myself. I’m grateful for my parents and the things they do for me, but they need to let me grow up. If having financial independence means walking around and offering creepy old men alcohol, then that’s what I’ll do. No one ever said working my way through vet school would be glamorous.
“Cleared out already?” Rhia’s brows shoot up when I return the tray only ten minutes later. “You’re makin’ big money tonight.”
I snort with a shrug. “I need a bathroom break. Can you cover for me?”
“Yes, girl. Of course. Take as much time as you need. I’ll tell Mark you’re dealing with lady cramps, and he won’t question it for a second.”
Laughing, I flash her a grateful smile. “Thanks. I won’t be too long.”
I head to the single-stall bathroom down the dark hallway. Most customers don’t realize it’s there, and I’m hoping to hide out until Connor’s table leaves. They seem to be wrapping things up now.
Once I lock the door, I glance in the mirror and notice how flushed my face is. I know deep inside it’s because Connor’s presence is getting under my skin. Every time we’re close, he sets off butterflies in my stomach, and I hate that he does. If he wasn’t such an arrogant jerk who snaps at me every chance he gets, my heart and head wouldn’t be constantly battling.
I know I can’t like him. Hell, I shouldn’t even be attracted to him, but when I see him, my traitorous body has a mind of its own.
Then my brain snaps back to reality the moment he acts like I’m the biggest inconvenience of his life.
After ten minutes, I decide to go see if his table’s empty. I peek out of the hallway just enough and only see three men sitting at the table. Where did—
“Elizabeth.”
His deep voice interrupts my thoughts. I spin around and immediately smell his cologne.
“What’re you doing here?” I ask as he stalks toward me with his shirtsleeves rolled up, showing off his tattoo sleeve.
“I was about to ask you the same damn thing.”
His dark stare pins me back against the wall. “I work here. Not that it’s any of your business.”
He arches a brow, challenging me. “When you’re dressed like that and have every man in this place staring at your almost bare ass and tits, I’d say it’s very much my business.”
My eyes widen as I cross my arms, daring him to scold me like he’s my father. “You aren’t the boss of me here, Connor.”
“I beg to differ.” He takes a step toward me. “You represent my clinic no matter where you are, and this…” He lowers his gaze down my body, lingering on the bare areas. “Isn’t the image I want others to see.”
“You sound more like a jealous boyfriend than a boss,” I counter.
Connor takes another step toward me, removing the much-needed space between us. He’s so close, I can smell the whiskey on his breath. “Don’t put that thought into my head.”
My mind spins. What the hell is that supposed to mean? Not wanting him to see how flustered I am, I straighten my spine and act unfazed. “As if it wasn’t already there.”
I smirk when he blinks and swallows hard as if my words have pushed him off his axis. As his eyes lower to my lips, I feel his erection press into my bare stomach.
He’s drunk and not thinking clearly.
That’s the only explanation for his behavior.
