Page 18 of Stripped

“Owning a strip club doesn't fit that dream?”

I smiled. “Not even close. I need something better, something stable that pays well and has amazing benefits. If I had any talent other than dancing on a pole, I'd open my own business, but I don't. I'll have to settle for working for someone else. I've got a bachelor's degree I earned online. I need to get to Denver and use it before too much time goes by, but…”

“You can't leave the club until you know there's someone running it who'll look out for the girls,” he said.

“Right.”

“No husband or kids in this dream at all?”

I shook my head. “I guess you and I think alike. I don't want a family until I have the income to support them. I literally need to work to earn them.”

“Or, maybe you meet the right guy, fall in love, and the two of you work together to build that income.”

“Touché.”

The waiter brought our check, after we'd refused dessert. I reached for it, but Zane grabbed it before I could. “I've got this,” he said. “It's the least I can do for helping to wreck your club last night.”

I rolled my eyes. “You made up for that by getting Alpha's pack to replace the furniture and glasses.”

“That doesn't make up for the expensive booze we ruined.”

The waiter returned after a few moments with Zane's card in hand. “I'm sorry, sir,” he said. “Your card has been declined.”

Zane's cheeks didn't redden with embarrassment, but his lips pinched tight and he looked angry. He reached for his wallet and pulled out two twenties. It looked like they were the last two twenties he had.

“I can cover this,” I said. “Really.”

“No,” Zane said. He handed the money to our waiter, telling him to keep the change. Zane pushed to his feet and walked out to the car. I followed, giving him space. The tense set of his shoulders and his heavy footsteps made it clear he was beyond pissed. By the time I got into the passenger seat, Zane was already on the phone, an angry scowl twisting his features.

Whoever was on the other end of the call talked for a long time. I stared out the front window into the dark night and waited. “Yeah,” Zane said. “I get it. We just need to—”

He paused, his expression settling a bit.

“Of course, Axel. Yeah, I'll talk to her.”

He hung up and faced me. “The pack is having some money problems,” he said. “It's not anything for you to worry about, but I'm not going to be able to pay for dinner or buy groceries.” He slammed his open palm against the steering wheel. “This is so fucked up. I hate being a mooch and I would go back to the pack, but—”

“It's fine. You're like my full-time bodyguard. I should totally be paying you.”

He sighed. “That's not how it works. You're a friend of Axel's and I'm helping you out. You shouldn't have to feed me and pay for my gas.”

I had a suspicion that attitude was part of the reason the pack was having money problems, but I didn't think Zane was in any kind of a mood to be receptive to my suggestions. “It's fine,” I said. “Friendship and favors go both ways. You aren't mooching. You're helping a friend who wants to feed you and pay for your gas.”

His shoulders relaxed and I thought I saw a smile tickle his lips. “You might want to consider how much a full-grown werewolf can eat before you say that, friend.”

***

“What the hell?” I stared at the white rectangle of paper on the door to my club. It was just a piece of paper with black squiggles all over it and yet it felt like a punch to the gut, a speeding truck plowing me down, an elephant lifting its enormous leg and stomping me into the ground.

I'd woken up that morning feeling pretty good. For the first time in thirty some hours my head hadn't hurt. I hadn't felt dizzy. I'd been ready to get back to work, optimistic.

“What does that mean?” Zane asked.

“It means my club is being condemned.” The words hurt on the way out, scraping my throat and leaving behind a new emotion. Carly, Roxy, Lizzie, Alice, Zara, and Zed, people who depended on me, wouldn't be getting paid tonight. Instead, my employees would pay because I just had to push Leopold away instead of coming up with a charming response, instead of remembering he was the one with the power in this town.

“Can they do that?” Zane asked. “There's not a damn thing wrong with your club.”

I spun to face him, feeling for the first time in a very long time like a child who wanted her mother to show up and tell her that everything would be okay, that we'd fix this. “They can do whatever they want. They own this town.”

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