Page 6 of Roxanne

“Wait up!” I yelp, but Eric ignores me once again.

I give up trying to follow him. These heels are too high, and he’s moving too fast. Maybe this is his way of telling me he’s done with me. Which would be weird. I thought when guys used girls, it was to their benefit. What does he gain from rocking my world?

I head to the bathroom, wanting to check my costume and clean myself up. I freshen up my makeup and check that nothing looks out of place, before heading back into the party. It’s filling up as the night goes on.

I consider flirting with some of the hot guys that are here, but I would rather find Eric. If for no other reason than to talk. I want to figure out what's going on with him. Why he ditched me.

I wander around for a while, pushing my way through the crowd, checking every room. This place is freaking massive.

Eventually, I spot a man dressed as The Phantom standing in the kitchen.

“Hey,” I murmur as I approach him. He’s serving a few people drinks in red solo cups, and when I reach him, he frowns.

“Hey, Roxy right?” He smiles, but then frowns. “You’re kind of late, and we were supposed to meet outside,” he says as quietly as he can with the music so loud.

“What?” I ask, frowning. None of what he just said makes any sense.

“Surprise!” a deep voice says from behind me, and I watch as Eric’s eyes go wide, and he steps away. “I told you, Roxy. No other man can have you.” I spin around, eyes wide, and watch as Storm removes his mask. The same mask from earlier. When I look at Eric, I realize his mask is slightly different.

The man I thought was Eric, that I thought I’d been with, was actually…Storm?

What. The. Fuck.

“I’m gonna go…” Eric mumbles, maybe picking up on the tension between Storm and me, or maybe he’s just scared of Storm. Either way, he ditches me without a backward glance.

“Do you even want a man like him, Roxy? Someone who bails when things get hard? Did he even tell you how stunning you are tonight?” He leans down to whisper, “Does he know I can still taste your cum on my lips?”

“Fuck you!” I growl, shoving Storm away from me as I turn to leave. I’m fucking done with this party.

My mind is reeling. How did Storm know where I was going to meet Eric? Was he in on it? Do I even want to know?

“You can run, Roxanne, but I will always catch you.”

Chapter 3

Roxanne

“Roxy!” my boss snaps, startling me out of my dazed state. I must have zoned out again.

“Sorry!” I yelp, getting back to work.

“You’ve been here for almost three months. You’d think you’d pay more attention by now,” he grumbles, but it’s all good-natured. He knows I tend to space out and is just giving me a hard time. I do that a lot. I don’t mean to, but sometimes the noise is so loud that I have to mentally check out.

“Sorry, Paul!” I say again, heading back to the floor. I check on my VIP tables, before assuming my position against the wall as I wait. It’s only ten p.m. Things don’t pick up until about midnight.

“You look gorgeous tonight, Roxy,” the bouncer, Dom, says as I walk past him. I blush, smiling at him. He’s been flirting with me for months now, but let's just say my last experience with men was enough to scare me off. I know it’s illogical. Not every man I come across can be easily hacked…’cause that's exactly what happened. Storm hacked Eric. Or me.

He read our messages and got there before Eric could. I ran away last night, and have kept far, far away from Storm. Not that he’s been trying to contact me, but I skipped classes today, just in case.

By some miracle, that fucking stalker hasn’t figured out that I work here yet. So I came in earlier than normal and took an extra shift.

The uniform here is revealing, but not too bad. Sparkly fishnets, a short black skirt, and a platinum silver bikini top. I like to tie my hair up in high pigtails and wear red lipstick when I work. Seems to work for me tip-wise. Not that I need the money, since Papa takes good care of me. Sometimes, I think it’s his way of making up for the guilt he feels over leaving me to be raised by my uncle.

I know he was just doing what he thought was best for me. I don’t blame him…well, maybe a little. I needed him, but he sent me away. He kept Will with him. Why wasn’t I good enough to keep around?

I shake off my morbid thoughts, as a group of eight men walks in off the elevator and sits in my section. I head over, smiling as I approach them. I hand the one that makes eye contact with me the menu and discuss tabletop service. There’s a three hundred dollar minimum to sit in this section. Most of the customers who come to this rooftop bar have no issues reaching that in the first hour.

A few moments later I return to their table, delivering the vodka and rum, along with the ice and mixers, with help from Dom.

---