Plush Book 2: A Billionaire Romance (4 page)

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Authors: KB Winters

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BOOK: Plush Book 2: A Billionaire Romance
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I always figured that eventually, I would get my shit together and make them proud of me.

“So much for that plan,” I whispered.

“What was that honey?”

“Oh nothing, nothing. Listen, Mom, I have to tell you something. The job at the ad agency didn’t work out as well as I had thought. I actually was let go, last Friday.” There, I had said it, I pinched my eyes closed and waited.

“Well, that’s a shame. What happened?”

“I wasn’t the right fit,” I answered, hoping that would be vague enough that she would sense I didn’t want to talk about it further.

“Hmmm. So what’s next?”

“I had a couple interviews earlier this week, so I’m waiting for a call back. Something will work out,” I assured her, infusing a confidence to my tone that I wasn’t sure came out as genuine.

My mother didn’t seem to pick up on it. “Well, you know, honey, you always have a home here. I could talk to Greg, down at the grocery store. I just saw a hiring sign up in his window last week.”

I shuddered at the suggestion. There was no doubt Greg would give me a job if I asked, He was a full-fledged creeper. I had never personally had an issue with him, but several of my high school girlfriends had told me plenty about his habit of inappropriate touching of both them, and himself, when they worked at the store after school or in the summertime. I was surprised my mom hadn’t heard the rumors firsthand. Then again, she tended to live in her own little world, blocking out most of the world around her, especially the darker sides.

A shiver crept up my spine, the edge of a memory of my own encounters in the small town.

“Thanks, Mom, but I’m okay. I think one of these jobs will work out. Don’t worry about me,” I said, forcing the memories from my mind.

I could tell she wanted to push me harder, to plead her case further, but thankfully, she dropped it and changed the subject to a safer topic and we chatted away for about half an hour before saying our goodbyes.

Once we hung up, I sat down on my couch and flicked on the TV, desperately needing the noise to drown out my brewing anxiety attack. It was Friday night but nothing worth watching was on. I realized that I probably needed to call the cable company and have them shut it off anyways. One less bill to worry about. I looked at the clock and debated going down to Steelrods. At least I knew I could drink for free, since Tank was always working the bar on Friday nights. But after last Friday’s fiasco I was a little hesitant to go out and do that whole thing again. I wondered if Hannah and Jett were going to be there, if that still even a thing. Judging by how quickly he had moved on from dry humping my ass to making out with Hannah in a bathroom, it didn’t exactly scream long term commitment.

Personally, I had never been a fan of the one-night deal. Sure, there were boys in high school that I messed around with, but Marx had actually been my first real boyfriend and first a lot of other things.

I closed my eyes, doing my best to keep those thoughts far, far in the back of my mind where they belonged.

My current policy was that if a guy wasn’t willing to woo me in some way, I wasn’t going to get it on with him, no matter how hard up I might be feeling. So far, I had been doing just fine. Granted, I hadn’t really even given anyone the time of day since the whole Marx implosion.

Well, except for Cooper.

“Ugh!” I flopped over, face down into the plushy couch cushions.

I lay there for a few minutes, slowly suffocating in cat fur, before I decided that I was truly in danger of becoming Mrs. Havisham if I didn’t get up and out of this apartment immediately.

I called Hannah, and sure enough, she was out with Jett. I listened to her gush about him for a few minutes before wrapping up the call, mentally swishing around some brain bleach to rid myself of her play-by-play report of how good he was in bed.

“Sam, just be glad you’re a cat and you don’t have friends who don’t know the meaning of TMI. Ugh,” I said to Sam. He meowed in agreement and I refilled his food dish. “What do you think? Should we go back to Kansas? My mom would probably try to fatten you up with chicken scraps. You’d like it.”

He meowed again and rubbed against my leg before digging into his dish and munching the kibble.

I thought about Kansas for a few minutes longer, wondering what had changed in the last few years. Wondering if certain people still lived there. Lord knew there were people in that town I never wanted to see again. One in particular. I shuddered at the thought.

“No, Sam, we are never going back to Kansas.”

I patted his head and then started to dial the next person on my mental list. Now that the Pandora’s Box of bad memories had been opened, it became even more essential for me to get out.

“Hello?” Bryce answered on the second ring.

“Hey, Bryce!”

“Who is this?”

“Uh—it’s Allie,” I answered, my brow wrinkled. I was confused by his confusion.

“Oh! Hey! Sorry about that, I had to get a new phone and for whatever reason, all my contacts were lost.”

“Oh, what happened?”

“Well, I wasn’t going to tell you because I didn’t want you to feel bad, but I got demoted at Spotlight and Rita now owns my ass. As you can imagine, my life has been a waking nightmare, and a couple days ago I threw my phone out the window…of my car…when I was on the freeway.”

I winced. “Yikes. I’m so sorry, Bryce!”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said. “I’ll figure something out. So what about you? Any leads?”

“Not yet. I had a couple interviews this week, but still waiting for a call back. It’s all beginning to feel a little hopeless.”

“Now, don’t be like that. Something will work out.”

“Thanks,” I replied, remaining unconvinced.

“Allie, listen to me. Do you know why I hired you?”

It wasn’t something we had formally discussed, but I had always figured it was because he knew I was looking for a new job, someplace I could make more money, and he had an opening.

“I bet you’re wishing you hadn’t now,” I tried to joke.

“Allie,” he scolded. “One day, I was in there drinking my coffee and your boss was sitting at the table next to me, working on his laptop. I don’t know exactly what happened, but he was cussing and pitching a fit. You raced over and within two seconds you had his back up and running. And he told you to mind your own business and get back to the counter. I knew you were never going to be able to grow in a place like that, and you obviously had the skills, you just needed someone who would give you a shot. So, I decided to be that someone.”

I was actually a little choked up listening to him tell me the story. It wasn’t a day I could distinctly remember, but the fact that he not only noticed me, but saw that potential and took a gamble on me, was overwhelming. All my life, people had been trying to get me to stay in the box, color inside the lines. Bryce was probably the first person to see my potential and actually want to let me loose, to learn and grow as a person.

And how did I repay him? I got him demoted…

I suck.

“What are you doing home anyways? It’s Friday night! What happened to being a wildcat on the weekends?”

I laughed. “Well, my bank account is telling me to slow down and have a peanut butter and jelly kind of night in, instead.”

Bryce clucked his tongue. “Well, that’s just unacceptable. Come on out, Clay and I are going out and you just officially became our guest of honor for the evening!”

“Are you sure?” I asked, another sting of guilt at the idea of him buying me dinner.

“Yes, come on! Clay is always nagging me to introduce my friends to him anyways. Trust me, you’ll be doing me a favor.”

I finally caved, and he rattled off his address and I agreed to meet him in half an hour. I went about getting ready, and just as I was about to walk out the door, I had a moment of clarity and knew exactly what I needed to do.

 

Chapter Five

 

Saturday morning came too soon. The sunlight shining in from my window, glared down on my face as I lay sprawled across the bed. I rolled away from the window and opened my eyes, and as my eyes adjusted, a pit formed in my stomach at what lay ahead of me. Bryce and his boyfriend, Clay, had done their best to cheer me up the night before, but going out with them had actually made me feel worse about everything. We had gone to an upscale restaurant and had dinner and drinks. Nothing too fancy, but I still felt completely out of my element and wondered how I was ever going to get my life back on track. The whole night had led to some alcohol-induced pondering about what my
track
was even supposed to be anymore. I certainly didn’t feel like it would ever be working someplace like Spotlight again.

Somewhere in between the restaurant and getting home and collapsing into bed, I had made up my mind. The most immediate need was to get money coming in so I didn’t get evicted, and I only knew one sure-fire way to make that happen. I got out of bed and hurried to get ready, knowing that if I wanted a chance to make some money tonight, I needed to leave soon.

A little over an hour later, I pulled up on Cherry Bomb outside Marco’s, a so-called “gentleman’s club” in one of the seedier pockets of the city. I took in a deep breath and then hauled myself off of my bike. I took off my helmet and strode through the front doors, shoulders back, face tough. As soon as I stepped through the doors, I was instantly assaulted with memories from the past—when I’d worked here before. It had been well over a year since the last time I’d stepped foot in this place but it all rushed right back as if it had been yesterday.

The room was dark, even though it was the middle of the day. The few windows were blacked out with thick plastic pieces and neon colored LED lights were strung through…Marco had once told me it was for
ambiance
. I always thought our clients were a little bit like cockroaches—they didn’t like bright lights.

“Allie Cat? That you? Well, shit. Girl, whatcha doin’ here?”

Speak of the devil.

I turned at the sound and saw Marco striding across the room towards me. I plastered on my best smile and gave myself a brief mental pep talk as he approached. “Hello, Marco,” I said. “I came to talk to you, actually. I have a business proposition.”

“I’m listenin’,” he drawled, close enough that I could smell the liquor that was already on his breath.

“I’m looking for a part time gig,” I said, hurrying the words together in fear of chickening out if I stood there breathing in his stench any longer.

His face broke into a smile and he chuckled. “I knew you’d be back. When you flew out of here last time, going off half-cocked about your future, I knew it was only a matter of time. You’d show up again.”

His words sunk into my soul and I felt a new wave of panic welling up inside of me as he spoke. If I could have seen another way, I would have punched him in the throat and walked out, but I had wracked my brain, and this was the best way to get the money I needed to fix Cherry Bomb and save myself from eviction. I tried to force myself to focus on that, and not let Marco’s words drag me back into the dark pit I had spent so long climbing out of.

“It’s temporary,” I told Marco, my words short. “I only want three nights a week and you’re not getting a cut of my tips.”

He laughed. “Oh, Allie, sweet little Allie. That’s not how this works. What’s in it for me?”

“I’ll do full nudity.”

His eyes opened wide. In the past, I had firmly rejected full nudity, no matter how much he tried to coax me into doing it. But, if I wanted the rest of my terms, I knew I needed a bargaining chip. And judging by the look on his face, that was it.

“One more condition,” he said, trying to conceal his excitement. “You have to give me a dance, in the back room. I need to see you still got it.”

My eyes went wide with horror but I did my best to cover it with my best smile. “When?”

“Now’s as good a time as any. Whatcha say, Allie Cat? We got a deal?” He held out his hand and I shook it, gulping back my disgust as I followed him through the club and to his back office. I shuddered as I stepped through the doorway, knowing all the stories the girls had told me about what went on in the back room.

When I had worked at Marco’s before, it was when I had first moved to LA. Things in Kansas had gone sideways and I needed an escape. I packed up my clunker of a car and drove it across the country and ended up in LA with hardly any money, no friends, and no place to stay. I ended up using what little money I had to rent a room at a motel near the club. I had asked the motel manager about jobs in the area and he recommended I check with Marco. At first, I had been appalled and offended that he even suggested it, but then thought about it and decided I could be a waitress or something and still bring in some good money. Which is exactly what had happened. I started working the bar, made good tips, but all the guys were begging Marco to get me on stage. One night, after a few too many shots, I agreed and danced for the crowd in my bra and panties. I earned more that night than in a whole week working at the bar so I told Marco I would dance, but I wouldn’t strip more than that like some of the other dancers.

It had worked well, until I got sick of living at a shitty motel and wanted to move to the classier part of town. I saved and saved for my deposit, lined up my barista job, and gave my notice with Marco. He had been furious with me, as I was his most requested girl, but I stuck to my guns, left that day, and hadn’t looked back or regretted the choice ever since.

“Okay, show me what you got,” Marco said, taking his seat on a bench up against the wall of his dingy office. He held out a remote and some type of club music filled the room.

I set my helmet down on the ground and started to move to the music. I closed my eyes and danced for him for a minute, pretending I was in the shower, alone.

“Show me some skin! You said nude!”

A wave of nausea hit my stomach but I kept dancing and started to unzip my leather jacket. I was wearing a red tank top underneath. Once that was exposed, I unzipped my jeans and wiggled out of them, a challenge with my riding boots on but I improvised and put one leg up on the bench, leaning into Marco as I unzipped the first boot and slid out of it—forcing my mind off the myriad of germs on the floor as I set my foot back down—and went to work on the second boot. Once freed, I slipped out of my jeans and danced in my black panties, swiveling my ass into Marco’s face while I pulled off my tank top.

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