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“I would have hired you.”
“And I would have felt like shit, you just handing me a job. I want to get the job ‘cause I’m the best candidate, not because my dad’s your best friend.”
He nods. “I get that, I do, but stripping?”
Shrugging at him, I sigh. “A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.”
“The father in me wants to take you over my knee.” My eyes widen at that scenario. My heartrate increases at the thought of Mr. H smacking me on the ass, massaging my peachy globe to ease the sting before smacking it again and again. I’m snapped back to reality from that kinky scene when I hear him say “… your father.”
“No!” I shout. “He cannot find out about this. It will crush him.”
“You want me to lie to him?”
“Just don’t tell him.”
“That’s lying by omission.”
We stare at one another, neither one of us wanting to give in, and then I play a trump card. “If you tell him, you then have to admit to Dad that you were in a strip club, and then you also have to admit that you saw me in nothing but—”
He presses his finger to my lips. “Okay. Okay, you win. Your father would kill me if he found out I saw you like that, so your secret is safe with me.”
“Thank you, I appreciate it.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“Keep doing what I’m doing until I get a marketing job.” He goes to open his mouth but it’s my turn to press my finger to his lips. “And no, I’m not taking a job that you create for me. If and when a job becomes available, I will apply … under an alias … so I know I got the job based on my skills and not because you’re Daddy’s best friend.”
“But you are still looking for a marketing gig?”
“Every day, Mr. H, I promise. I don’t want to strip forever. I may be good at it, and it’s the best freakin’ cardio work out there is, but I’ve always wanted to be a marketing manager. I know, one of these days, the right job will come along. I just need to bide my time until then.”
He eyes me, and then nods. “I admire your tenacity, and in a way, I’m proud of you for looking after yourself. You really are an amazing young woman.”
“Thanks, Mr. H, I appreciate that.”
We stare at one another. I feel relieved that it’s out in the open and Mr. H seems okay with it all, and he’s agreed not to tell Mom and Dad, so that’s a plus. The evening takes a turn when he looks intently at me and says, “Sooo, are you still wearing that sexy AF pink number?”
“Did you just say sexy AF?”
He shrugs at me and I shake my head with a grin, this man continually surprises me. “You are something else, Kane Heatherington.”
“As are you, Calliope ‘Miss Sunshine’ Fischer.” My eyes widen when he uses my stage name. “And don’t worry, Sunshine, your secret alter ego is safe with me because there’s no way in hell I’m telling your dad about your banging body.”
My eyes widen farther and I shake my head. “Please don’t ever use banging body and refer to my dad in the same sentence together ever again.”
“Deal.” He offers me his hand and I shake it. That electric jolt when we touch is still there but this time it feels different, and I don’t know how to process that.
“Sooo,” he asks again, “are you?”
Just like that, all the angst, unease, and mortification from earlier dissipates, and moments later, the evening takes another unexpected turn with what transpires next.
ChapterThirteen
Today is one for the memory books and the spank bank … but I will never admit that to anyone. It’s a secret I will take to the grave. Calliope Fischer is the last woman on Earth I should be jerking off to or spending time alone with. However, I was never one for rules, hence, why I’m sitting in a bar with a woman I should not be sitting in a bar with. But when she told me her story, my heart broke for her and I was so glad to have broken the rules. If I’m honest, I was amazed at what she did to survive. Making the decision she did couldn’t have been easy but somehow, she managed to get through university on her own. That’s no easy feat, especially in New York. This city isn’t cheap and that’s reaffirmed as I order another thirty-dollar glass of scotch for myself.
Once Calliope and I clear the air, we grab a booth in the back and I cross a few more lines. May as well obliterate them, I’m already going to hell. Over copious amounts of scotch, red wine, and buffalo mozzarella sticks, Calliope and I have an amazing night together.
We laugh.
