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I stare down at it in shock. While this may have been the most embarrassing experience of my life … it might very well be worth it.
Chapter 9
I end up working at the gentlemen’s club Saturday night as well, and after both shifts, the manager tells me she’d like me to stay on for Fridays and Saturdays for the foreseeable future. And after the payout from that weekend, I’m elated to agree.
A small part of me still feels a little, I don’t know, embarrassed? Weirded out? After all, it’s not like this is a normal job. I’m literally getting paid for having men stare at my breasts all night. And when you put it that way, it definitely sounds sleazy. But what are a few uncomfortable nights compared to the possibility of losing the one connection I have to my family? Not enough to stand in my way, that’s what.
I’m still on a high from the money I made this weekend when I start work on Monday. Ben notices my change in mood and seems excited that I’ve started settling into the work environment. I don’t have the heart to tell him that my good mood isdespitethe work environment.
Regardless, the week plods by at a bearable pace. Asher doesn’t seem overly angry or moody with me, which is a plus. He is, as usual, cold and short, but otherwise tolerable. There’s a big meeting with investors coming up, so he’s seemed worried about that. But I can’t tell if this is just how he always is—I presume that’s it.
As Thursday rolls to a close, anxious jitters rumble in my stomach thinking about tomorrow. My third night at the gentlemen’s club. Last weekend almost feels like a fever dream. Something that didn’t happen. And I’m about to go do it again.
My laptop pings, and I look down to see a new email in my inbox. I open it to see a message from Asher, and my stomach tightens. I groan.
Ben looks up from his desk. “What is it?”
I meet his gaze with a worried expression. “Asher wants me to stay late tonight. Something about the meeting with investors.”
He purses his lips. “Yeah, that happens from time to time around here. Glad Asher finally has his own assistant. If you weren’t here, it’d be me.” He shrugs, shooting me a sympathetic look and shutting his laptop.
I look to him in desperation. “But he hates me. I don’t want to hang out with himalone.” For more than just that reason, but Ben doesn’t need to know that.
“Don’t know what to tell you,” Ben says. He looks sympathetic, but not enough to give up his Thursday night to help me out. Which I truly can’t blame him for. It’s not his job. It’s mine. Unfortunately. “Don’t worry,” he says, shrugging on his jacket. “Things will get better between you two, I promise.” And with that, he grabs his backpack and heads out.
I watch over the next few minutes as the majority of the employees gather their things and shuffle out. It’s a little after 5 p.m., and the office is basically empty. I sigh, staring down at my computer screen. I assume Asher wants me to continue my work on his presentations and reports, so I pull up the documents.
A new email in my inbox grabs my attention though, and I open it.
Come to my office. Bring everything for the reports. –Asher
It’s all on my laptop, so it scoop it up and stand. Nerves dance in my stomach as I make my way to Asher’s office. Remembering how he’d scolded me last time, I make a point to knock.
“Come in!” a voice calls. He sounds annoyed already.
I enter, quietly shutting the door behind me and turning to face Asher. He’s hunched over his desk, working away on his laptop. He glances up at me and then gestures to the chair in front of his desk.
I hurry to take a seat, propping my computer on my lap.
“How far along are you in the presentation slides?” he asks without looking up.
“Uh … pretty far. I just need some additional details about the new VR applications and when those should be ready for development.”
“Did you reach out todevelopment?” Asher glances up, irritated.
I feel inconceivably small under his gaze. “Yes. I emailed them.”
“When?”
“Yesterday.”
“Email them again.”
I nod, pulling up my email and following up with the lead on the developer team. We work in silence for a little while, sharing information when needed. Even if I have questions, I find myself too afraid to ask him. His intimidating demeanor is freaking me out. I’d rather work at my desk, alone, and simply receive emails from him from his office.
I find myself glancing up at him from time to time. At the strong line of his jaw, at his dark hair gently falling in his face as he works. I remember how he’d smiled at me at the bar, in the hotel room. How he’d had dimples. I haven’t seen those dimples here.
I remember how he’d touched me, how I’d orgasmed in his arms, collapsing against him. I feel myself flush, and I try to push the thoughts from my mind. It’s utterly humiliating to know that my boss knows intimate details about me. What I look like naked, how to get me off. It’s … horrible, really. Especially considering how he’s treated me since I’ve started here.
