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“Because you look like a little doll. And because I do whatever the fuck I want.”
“Is that appropriate?” A smirk kisses my lips. I love teasing my step-daddy. “To use this kind of langu
age in front of your stepdaughter?”
“I don’t know.” He tilts his face, gives me a slow once-over his green eyes lingering on my chest. “Is it appropriate to finger yourself and moan your step-father’s name, Dolly?”
Touché.
He nods curtly in agreement. “Yeah, I guess we’re both not qualified to star in the fucking Brady Bunch.”
“Yeah, but we are definitely a Modern Family,” I joke. He doesn’t answer.
I say nothing for the remainder of the drive into New York City. Not even when Graham doesn’t stop to pay toll when we cross from New Jersey. I have no idea how he got to a point where he has so much power, people know him and fear him, but I know I should feel lucky that he likes me enough to give me a VIP pass into his world. At least for tonight.
Our first stop is on the lower East side of Manhattan. It’s his strip club, and it’s called Assets. Mom used to work there before they got married, and I guess this place reminds me that this man, sexy as hell or not, is still married to my mother.
He double-parks in front of the entrance with the pink and white neon light flashing, and even though the billboard looks colorful and inviting, underneath it, there are two, huge bouncers, a lot bigger than the ones I saw at Hot N’ Bothered in Williamsburg, in black raincoats and frowny faces. It looks like a dingy place, despite its preppy zip code.
“You’re taking me to a strip club?” I try to blink away my shock. He opens his door and steps out, walking around the car and opening the passenger door for me.
My heels hit the ground before I get out of the car, and I feel the bite of the New York chill in my bones and shiver. I don’t get out. Not yet, peeking over his shoulder and examine the row of brownstone townhouses the club is sandwiches between.
“Problem, Dolly?”
“Yeah, I’m too young to hang out in strip clubs.”
“Your mom didn’t seem to think so when she brought you in to work when you were fucking fourteen.”
“She didn’t have a choice. You do.” I swallow my shame. Why does he have to be such an asshole and bring up my mom?
When he sees that I don’t budge, I bet he’s not happy about me letting him wait in front of his bouncers in the pouring rain outside, he grabs my hand and jerks me into his warm body, slamming the car door behind my back. Under the sheets of rain, I feel a lot more agreeable when he ushers me into his club, passing the bouncers who nod in his direction in awe and fear. We slip through a dark, narrow hallway leading to another pair of closed double doors, the floorboards beneath us creaking with the beat of the sleazy music coming from the inside of the club.
He pushes the second set of double doors open and we’re inside. There’s a stage in front of us, T-shaped with a short catwalk. A pole stands on each end, three in total, and on each of them is an almost naked young chick with a pair of high heels. My stomach lurches and I twist toward the front door again before I realize Graham is holding into me tightly.
“Let me go,” I whisper, my tone almost inaudible. But he hears me. Even through the music blasting in the background, “West Coast” by Lana Del Rey, he hears me and my cheek is now pressed against his broad strong chest. I want to scream and cry, but can’t even bring myself to lift my gaze and look into his eyes. I’m so confused. He holds me. No, he clasps me, almost like a hug, and murmurs into my ear.
“You know why I brought you here?” he asks.
“To taunt me about my mom?” My voice is shaking and my unshed tears are stinging the back of my eyeballs. God, I hate him so much. Him and my mom. All I ever wanted is a shot at a normal life. I thought I had it up until now, even though mom cared more about her time with Julio than her time with me, and now…now Graham is trying to push my limits, and I don’t even know why.
“No, kiddo. I’m doing this because I fucking care about you. Look, just look.” He takes my jaw between his fingers and direct my face to the stage. My vision is blurry with tears but I keep it together. I watch the strippers as they move, grinding the poles seductively to the melancholic, sexy sound of Lana Del Rey’s voice. They’re so beautiful but so sad. I know not all strippers are sad. I know this is a high-class joint and in all probability, they have medical insurance, a fat paycheck and relatively respectable clients. But still…it’s degrading. I get that. I just don’t understand why Graham makes me watch them.
“What’s your point?” I breath out, exasperated. He takes my small palm in his huge one and guides me through the throng of people sitting around and watching the show toward the back, probably to where his office is. When he gets to a dark wooden door he punches in a code and opens it, signaling me to sit in front of another desk of another office that looks exactly like the one he has in Hot N’ Bothered.
He doesn’t turn on the light, but there’s a glass window separating us from the strip club so there are blue, green and pink lights pouring in. I can barely make out his features.
“This is why I married your mother, Dolly,” he says into the darkness. What?
My body is stiff on the leather recliner I am sitting on, and I clear my throat. “What do you mean?”
“I mean”—he leans against the window overlooking the dancing strippers and ogling old men, hands in his pockets again—“I could’ve married anyone to get my paperwork in order. I chose her. I could’ve opted for a New York apartment and didn’t have to live with you ladies. I chose Jersey. I could have done so many things differently…I chose this path,” he finishes, the intensity of his voice electrifying. I suck in a breath.
“Why?” I breathe. This time I sense his eyes nailing me into my seat even in the dark.
“Because of you. You, Dolly. I saw how your mom dragged you into her shifts day after day after day. The way you’d sit there and play with your dolls and color your books. You were so innocent and precious. I wanted to give you something else.”
You seemed to have wanted to give me your dick just the other day, I want to interject, but I keep mum because it looks like he has something he wants to get off his chest.
