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The memory of how he broke my heart and severed the future I thought I was going to have with him comes alive in my mind as if it's just happening, and I see straight through to the asshole he is, who he always was.
“I’m quiet when I come across unexpected surprises.” Although there’s a rasp in my voice, I’m grateful I sound confident and like I’m okay. “What are you doing here, Jericho Grayson?”
“I was going to ask you the same thing.” He raises sharp brows. “What are you doing working in a place like this, River?”
I guess I landed myself in that question sooner rather than later.
“I don’t think that’s really any of your business.”
His jaw clenches and his eyes darken, showing he expected a better answer from me. He won’t get any more of an answer than that, because whatever is happening to meisnone of his business.
“What happened to you?” He ignores my answer, giving me a hard stare. Not the kind you’d see on a person when they’re mad at you, but the sort you’d get when they care. I hate that look on him, because he doesn’tcare.
“I’m working.” I lift my jaw higher.
“Working?” He makes a point of looking me over and lingering his stare on my virtually exposed breasts that I’m sure you can see through the flesh-colored fabric.
A flash of something sexual sparks in his eyes, igniting unwarranted heat in my core that surprises me. I don’t want to feel anything for him. This man is just another smooth-talking beautiful devil with a cold heart covered in steel.
“Yes, I’mworking.”
“Something must have happened to you for you to want to work here.”
“Nothing happened to me.” If I add another dose of confidence to that lie, even I might believe it. I’m not fooling Jericho in the slightest, though.
He knows I didn’t work my ass off to get into Juilliard only to end up working somewhere like this. If he’d stuck with me a little longer and saw I got my dream to travel the world and dance with the Bolshoi Ballet, he’d know with certainty that I’m lying.
“You’re dancing in astrip club.” He places emphasis on the last two words as if I’m not aware of the true reality of the place I work in.
“As you saw earlier, I do way more thandance in a strip club. Do you know the type of skills you have to have to do what I can do?” I ball my hands into fists and hold them at my sides to keep my rage in. “How dare you come here and question my work?”
“Are you stripping here?” He ignores what I said again. This time, his eyes blaze with deep irritation.
“What?”
“You heard me.”
I stare back at him, hold my breath, and count backwards from ten, hoping the therapy technique that’s calmed me in many stressful situations will help now.
It works a little, allowing me to think on my feet with an answer that will shut him down.
“Like I said, it’s not of your business.” There, that’s the best answer to give him, and he looks as annoyed as I hoped he’d be.
I know I told him this wasn’t his business before, but as I haven’t confirmed or denied whether or not I’m stripping, hearing that answer again must feel worse.
“If you don’t mind, I’m on a strict deadline I need to heed to.” I set my
shoulders back and keep my gaze leveled with his.
“You didn’t answer my question.” His tone takes on an abrasive edge. “Are you stripping here?”
My lips part in surprise, and I give him a narrowed stare. “Listen, I think I’ve been polite enough to you. Now leave me alone. My life is none of your business. It hasn’t been for the last eight years, and it’s not going to start now, so please leave.”
I wish I could feel bad for talking to him like that, but I don’t. Not even a little.
I’m more infuriated when he doesn’t move. Then I realize he’s staying put because men like him aren’t used to not being in control. They always get what they want, and they don’t like it when they no longer have the upper hand.
Since I have no time to argue and I’m done talking, I walk over to the clothes rail to get my dress, then leavehim.
