Page 111 of Rut Bar

I trust him to run Rut. The man is obsessed with giving our customers the grandest, sparkliest alpha stripper show known to mankind, but I am not letting him use my pack as a negotiation tactic to extort me. “Your salary will be adjusted to reflect the cost of living and your new job title. Let me get the financing and location secured first before you go buy a flashy new car, though.”

Nate’s face scrunches up. “Why would I buy a new car if I’m moving to New York? A car service is better. Do you have any idea how much a parking space is? See, this is why you need to put me in the New York location. I know these things. We should look for something in the West Village. They’ll love us there. Ooh, I can picture it now. We should get leather thrones, three of them, and rope them off as VIP seats. Charge a ridiculous amount for the privilege of sitting front and center.”

Standing up, I smooth my skirt down my thighs. It’s a wrinkled mess and there’s no helping it. Fresh panties wouldn’t hurt too. I need to keep a stash here at work. I shoo Jamie out of my office and nudge Nate along with me.

“I’ll take your advice into consideration,” I say. “Now, let’s keep this expansion under wraps. Nothing is a done deal yet, and we have to get through this audit first.”

We take the stairs as a group, and I ignore Anthony and Brendan’s curious stares. Did neither of them notice Nate coming up to the office? I can’t find it in me to actually be mad, though. The thought of coming clean, of telling everyone, makes my palms sweaty, but I’m nervous in a good way. I don’t want to hide this beautiful thing we have anymore. I don’t want to treat it like it’s a dirty secret.

“Everyone, if I can have your attention for a minute, I have an announcement,” I say loud enough to be heard over the music. Someone turns the volume down. I put my hand on Jamie’s shoulder, forgetting how sweaty and oily he is, and slip. I hold his hand instead, our fingers threading together like they were meant to be. It’s funny how something as simple as holding hands in public can be so intimate.

“I want to let everyone know that I’ve found my pack, and… well, you’ve met them already. Jamie, Anthony, and Brendan, who recently joined us to replace Harvey. We’re going to be together. All of us.”

There’s a collective groaning except for Darlene, who cackles. She takes straight pins out of her mouth and stops fixing Margot’s Mrs. Claus costume, stabbing them into the pincushion on her wrist and standing.

“Pay up,” Darlene orders.

I watch as money changes hands, eleven people handing crumpled and folded bills to my costumer.

“How the fuck did she guess all of them right?” Darren asks.

“If we guessed one right, does that mean we get part of the pot?” Amy, our newest bartender, asks.

“No,” a dancer says. “It’s all or none. She won all of it.”

“I didn’t know we could pick more than one option,” Amy argues.

“That’s not how packs work, sweetheart,” Dan adds.

“What the actual fuck? Were you betting on me?” I ask them.

“Yeah,” a few of them say in unison.

I swivel to Anthony, who holds his hands up in the air, his bar towel forgotten. “Did you know about this?”

“I was sworn to secrecy, boss.” Anthony fishes a twenty from his pocket and hands it to Amy, who passes it forward until it ends up in Darlene’s hands.

“Did you bet on us?” I ask him, my hands fisted on my hips.

Anthony shrugs. “I had to keep up appearances.” He grins.

I want to ask him who he bet on me hooking up with, but I bite my tongue. This isn’t the time or the place. A blush heats my face. Fuck this. I have payroll to focus on. “Get back to work! I’m not paying you all to gamble and bet on my love life.”

Ignoring their laughter and chatter, I head up the stairs and hide in my office.

Well, all things considered, that could have gone a lot worse. Finding out your own club has a secret betting pool about your sex life is bad, but knowing that none of them seem to care beyond being mad they lost some cash makes me feel better. They’re not pissed. They didn’t quit and storm out, leaving me with no staff to open tonight. They know that I’m packing up with not one employee but three, and nobody’s about to report me to the state labor board.

Of all the nightmare scenarios I had running in the back of my mind about how this would go down, a workplace betting pool wasn’t on my radar at all.

Shaking my head, I unlock my computer and stare at the payroll application while I try to remember what I was doing.

ChapterThirty

ANTHONY

“You’ve gotta be fucking kiddingme!” Veronica yells at her phone while she sits up on the couch.

“What’s wrong?” Brendan asks, pausing the movie none of us were really watching.

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