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“Nothing.” Wincing, I rubbed the back of my left knee. Two nights of pole routines was hard on the body, and the backs of my knees were raw.
“Are you sure?”
The event was almost over and I’d made a fraction of the tips I would have on a normal night. I’d also been cut from the final set so Stone could have an extra turn. I was salty at my bosses, but it wasn’t Stone’s fault.
“It’s been a weird few days.”
“What do you mean?” he asked.
I bit my lip. I needed to talk to someone about this thing with Evan and his “business proposal.” I would have talked Aiden and Gray’s ears off by now, until I figured shit out, but didn’t want to mess up Aiden’s plans with Paige, and Gray was still recovering from his injuries. I couldn’t bother him with this right now.
“I know we’re not close or anything, but I’ve known you for almost a year now,” Stone said softly. “You can talk to me if you need someone to listen.”
Guilt prickled at my chest. Stone had been nothing but friendly to me in all the times we’d worked together, but I’d been a total asshole to him.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Sure.” He leaned back against the wall behind us.
“Why do you screw us over every week?”
“What?”
“You never show up for work and we always end up having to cover for you.”
He shot me a puzzled look. “I do show up for work...”
“You didn’t show up last week.”
“I wasn’t supposed to work last week.” His expression went shrewd. “You thought I was?”
“You’re supposed to work every week.”
He blinked at me.
“Aren’t you?” I said.
“No. I only work events.”
It was my turn to give him a puzzled look.
“I’m a headliner,” Stone said. “I don’t work for the club.”
I shook my head. “But Corey and Ray…”
“What about them?” He straightened up from the wall, his height looming as his shoulders went square. “Did they make it seem like something else was going on?”
Did they ever. “They put you on the roster every weekend,” I told him. “Then they make a big deal when you don’t show up and we have to scramble to fill the slots with extra sets.”
His lips folded into a tight line, his eyes narrowing. Hands pressed to the tops of his thighs.
“That’s not true?” I asked.
“No. I’ve never worked for the club. They bring me in to capitalize off my following, and I get compensated for that. Why do you think I’ve been subsidizing your tips on event nights?”
He’d beenwhat? “We’ve never seen an extra dime,” I said.
His eyes went dark with what looked like anger. “Are you sure?”
