Holy…what the?
It’s a bar. A fully fledged huge bar, the walls are dark green and the bar is a rosewood timber.
He begins to pour the drinks as my eyes look around the space.
There’s a pool table, a card table, even a roulette table. It’s like a damn casino in here. To the right, there’s a sunken room with a black circular leather couch around a pole.
Huh?
“What’s the pole for?” I ask.
“Strippers,” he says casually as he takes a sip of the drink he’s just poured.
I stare at him as my brain misfires, what do you even say to that?
“You have strippers to your house?” I gasp.
“Of course I do. I certainly don’t want to go to their houses,” he replies casually as he passes me a heavy crystal glass.
What the…
I’m shocked, shocked to my core. He has a fucking stripper pole in his bar room.
I take a sip and wince, so strong. Ugh, it’s horrible. “Is this stripper juice?”
He raises his glass in the air with a cheeky wink. “Something like that.”
“Figures,” I reply dryly. I imagine all the hot women he must have here, and insecurity creeps in. What could he ever see in me?
Damn it, maybe I do need this liquid bravery. I take a huge gulp and it burns all the way down.
Ugh… Oh, hell.
Perhaps tonight’s stripper may be throwing up after drinking this, but whatever. He asked for it.
“Sit.” He points to a stool at the bar, and without thinking I do as he says and drop to the seat. He sits down beside me; his eyes linger on my lips as he takes a slow sip of his drink.
He’s imagining something, god knows what, but it’s perverted, I know.
I glance over to the sunken lounge and the pole; I imagine him sitting there watching a naked girl writhe and dance for him, it’s too much to bear and I snap my eyes away.
Seriously…what am I doing here? He isn’t in my league. We aren’t even in the same stratosphere.
This is going to break me.
“What is it?” he asks.
“Nothing,” I say softly.
He puts his finger under my chin and lifts my face to his. “Gracie?”
My stupid eyes well with tears, betraying my bravado act.
His face falls. “What is it?”
I put my drink down on the bar. “I should…I’m going to get going.” I stand. “Have a merry Christmas.” I force a smile. “It was really…” I pause as I try to get a hold of my emotions, “…nice working for you.
He stands abruptly. “Gracie, the night is young. Don’t go.”