AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I know I’m much too thin, but that’s genetics. There’s nothing I can do about it unless I want to mainline cinnamon rolls. My hips are too narrow, my breasts too small. If it wasn’t for padded bras, the gentleman’s club most likely wouldn’t have hired me in the first place.
My mother always told me I’m a flower, or rather a beautiful flower bud that someday will bloom. I’m still waiting for this to happen. The only time men give me attention is when I’m dolled up at the club. And that isn’t the kind of attention I want.
Why don’t I quit this job? Well, I’m going to. But not before making a point. Coming onto the floor looking less than sexy will infuriate my boss. Good. He deserves it. I’m ready. Looking in the mirror at an outfit that’s too large, makeup that’s practically nonexistent, and a hairstyle that’s intentionally disastrous, I’ll be lucky to make it past the back room without a confrontation.
After taking a deep breath, I step through the door, looking straight ahead, ignoring the shocked gasps from my co-workers. They’re most likely pleased by my appearance... more tips for them. But at least tonight my ass won’t be grabbed, and thegentlemenwon’t solicit me like I’m their personal call girl. Some of these women will go home with the men. They’ll wind up with jewelry, cars, and housing... if they play it right. I’m not that girl.
Though I’ll never be a trophy wife, the kind of woman a captain of industry wants on his arm, I also know I’ll eventually marry a kind man — a regular guy — and have the life I’ve dreamed of having since childhood. A life completely unlike what I saw at home.
I didn’t have a bad life after my father walked out on my mother and me. And my mom was never bitter, never told me not to find my own love. She warned me that the world is full of frogs who can’t be transformed by kisses, and I should never settle for someone slimy. If they’re all hands, it’s because they want one thing. They’re sticky, but with no sticking power.
When a group of men fill the club with laughter as they walk in, I glance in their direction. That’s when my heart stops beating for a moment. Before it speeds up double time.
Tyler Astor.
If I hadn’t decided to come to work tonight, but simply quit as I should have, I wouldn’t be going through the heartbreak of seeing my first love. My heart thuds as I look his way. I was only ten when he broke my heart the first time.
I followed him for years through news and entertainment media. Like a kicked puppy, dammit. Why? Because he was my first love, my first best friend, the only person to this day I ever fully opened up with — well, besides my mother and Piper, who have now taken Tyler’s place in the best-friend category. I instantly bonded with Piper two years ago, our freshman year at university.
“That’s your table,” one of the waitresses says before patting me on the shoulder. “Good luck.”
“You take it,” I reply.
“Are you sure? That’s the youngest Astor brother, and that’s the son of a junior senator. You know those tips are going to be big,” my co-worker, Sara, says with hungry eyes. “Humongous.”
“I’m positive,” I tell her. “I think I’ve made a mistake coming in tonight.”
“Yeah, what’s up with the wardrobe and hair choice?” Sara asks.
“Trying to prove a point — that I’m not a piece of meat.”
“Honey, to the men who come in here, that’s exactly what we are,” Sara says with a laugh. “And since they pay for my house and all of the little baubles I’m so fond of, I really don’t give a damn.”
“That’s the difference between us,” I murmur. “Nothing’s worth this degradation.”
“Good luck out in the real world, sweetie,” Sara says before skipping over to the table and taking the men’s orders, giggling and jiggling all the way.
“My office, now!” My manager has spotted me, and he snarls these words in my ear before he moves to the other side of the room.
Keeping my head down, I begin slinking through the room, but I make a fatal mistake. I pass by the group of guys I’m trying to avoid. And they’re already drunk and rowdy.
“Why are you dressed down like this, darling?” One of the men grabs my arm and holds on. “I’ve seen you looking so much hotter. How are we supposed to check out the merchandise when you’re hiding your best stuff under mountains of material?”
Another speaks up. “I want to see your nice set of tatas, babe.”
The rest of the men cackle when the guy who grabbed my arm tugs and makes me fall into his lap. I’m mortified as I struggle to break free. When my eyes connect with Tyler’s for the first time in years, what I see breaks my heart all over again. And his words hit me even harder.
“This place has a much better selection of women to flirt with, Tom,” Tyler says. “Why don’t you let this one go so we can have some fun?” My former friend leans back and smiles at me.
When the group of men guffaw again, my humiliation’s complete. I never should’ve come back to this place, never should’ve put myself through this. Although I have a good poker face, self-confidence has never been one of my strong suits, and I’ve just lost all of my cards.
Yes, I’ve been trying to prove a silly point — that I’m not a piece of meat — but I also don’t need to be discarded like a lame horse. Tom releases me, then slaps my ass as I struggle off his lap.
“I told you to come to my office!” My manager’s back. He’s less than three feet from the men at the table, who are watching my further humiliation.
“I got mauled on my way,” I tell him.
“Are you insulting our guests?” he asks far too loudly.
