Sinful Desires Vol. 3(9)

“And, honey,” she said gently. “He took you to a strip club.”

“You'd be surprised at how many guys bring their wives and girlfriends to see a show.” I wasn't intentionally being argumentative, but I wanted to find other logical reasons for Brock's behavior. I didn't want to believe that I'd rebounded from one jerk to another. I hadn't dated a lot, but I liked to think that my taste in men wasn't that bad, that I wasn’t that naïve and stupid.

“Did he ask you if you wanted to go?”

“Yes,” I answered immediately.

“Piper, did he say that he wanted to go and then made it sound like he'd reconsider if you said you didn't want to, or did he actually ask you if you would enjoy going to a strip club?”

I didn't answer, but Anastascia knew anyway.

“That's what I thought.” Her voice softened. “Believe me, I wish he was as great as he seems, but it wasn't just one person I'd ever heard talk about him. This is his MO, and he'll just keep pushing until you finally snap. And I know you. You're stubborn and you don't like to admit when you're wrong. If you wait until he pushes too far, you're going to get hurt.”

I remained silent, but this time, she didn't interrupt. Even after the time we'd spent apart and the fights we'd had, she and I were still close enough that it sometimes seemed like we could read each other's minds. She knew I needed a few minutes to process.

“You may be right,” I admitted reluctantly. “And I may be showing that stubborn streak, but I'm going to give him a chance to explain himself.”

“You know,” Anastascia said with a sigh. “For a girl who's been kicked in the teeth so many times, you sure are willing to forgive people a lot.”

“Maybe I'm just trying not to turn into cynical old you,” I teased.

She laughed and the mood lightened. “Now, you need to tell me everything about Julien Atwood, because the stories I've heard...”

I rolled my eyes even though she couldn't see me. I would give Brock the opportunity to fix this, but there'd only be this one time. No more chances after this. And if things went south with him, I would be swearing off guys for a while. They weren't worth the heartache.





Chapter 8

I had to work Tuesday night, so I missed Brock's call, but the voicemail he left was apologetic. He didn't try to make excuses for his behavior, but simply said he'd been out of line and rude. He asked to make it up to me the following night on a date. Just the two of us. Julien was going to entertain himself so Brock and I could have some alone time. I agreed, telling myself that his behavior would determine whether or not I broke up with him tomorrow or not.

When my shift ended, I headed back to the dressing room and found a dozen red roses lying on the make-up table. The card held a simple message.

“Piper, thank you for the second chance. - B.”

The other girls were curious and I could feel the eyes on me as I changed, but no one asked. One of the things I did like about The Diamond Club was that we all respected each other's privacy for the most part. Now, if you advertised everything, all bets were off, but if you were like me and kept your private life private, no one pried. In a place like this, too many people had secrets.

I carried the roses home, raising them every few minutes to breathe in their scent. It took me a while to find a vase that could hold them all, but once I did, I put them in the center of the table where I could see them from every place in the main area of the apartment. A little smile played on my lips as I made myself something to eat and it stayed through my shower. I was still smiling when I fell asleep.

I was scheduled for a 'morning' shift the next day so I'd set my alarm for just a couple hours of sleep. Morning shifts at The Diamond Club started at ten and went until seven. They were better in some ways, worse in others. Generally, there were fewer customers in the middle of the day since most people used the daylight hours for other activities, so things were more easy-going. That also meant that the men who were there were usually repeat customers and some had a bad habit of getting overly friendly. Especially the ones that felt like since they watched a girl take her clothes off a couple times a week, there was some sort of intimate relationship going on. Every girl at The Diamond Club had at least one of those customers.

I had two. And, somehow, they always seemed to know when I was working the early shift. Since things were a bit more lax, the customers sometimes got away with more than they did at night. The last time I'd worked a morning when my admirers were there, I'd almost gotten fired for slapping them both. The only thing that saved my ass was that they'd both told the manager that the slaps had been worth the feel they'd copped.

Even those two couldn't completely take away my anticipation of the upcoming date. Another bouquet of roses had been waiting at the club when I'd arrived and every time Paul or Leon let their hands linger a little too long, I'd think about my roses. I knew two dozen hadn't come cheap and I appreciated Brock’s effort to apologize even while I still questioned his sincerity.

While I danced, I started to consider a third option to the two contradictory schools of thought on Brock and his seemingly double personality. Perhaps it wasn't as simple as him being bad or good. Maybe Brock was trying to change. He could have been the kind of guy Anastascia thought he was, but now he was trying to be different. For me. It would explain how he could go from being so sweet to a total ass. He wanted to be a good guy. He was just working at it and kept falling back into his old self.

I had this set in my mind as I got ready for our date hours later. While Brock hadn't said where we were going, he'd told me to dress casual-dressy. That was good because I was pretty much out of actual-dressy. I paired a black miniskirt with a simple green sleeveless blouse and pinned my hair up to keep it off my neck, then I spent the next ten minutes debating the merits of heels over sandals. The sandals won out when I saw that I'd somehow managed to scuff my heels the other night. I frowned as I tossed them back into the corner of my bedroom. There was something else to add to my list of things I needed to buy whenever I actually had the money to do it.

By the time Brock was due, I was pacing in front of the couch. He'd texted this morning to ask if he could pick me up and I'd agreed. He'd already seen where I worked. It seemed pointless to keep him from seeing the apartment. He knew I didn't have money and I saw it as a test to see how accepting of me he really was.

When he knocked on the door, I became really nervous, looking around at my clean by shabby apartment. I’d spent all my extra time picking at little things like they were going to magically transform this place into a palace. It didn’t, nothing short of a magic wand would make a difference.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before I moved to let him in. He had another huge bunch of flowers, more than a dozen this time. The scent was intoxicating.

“For you,” he said as he stepped inside.

That seemed like a pretty obvious thing to say, but I wasn't going to argue. I stretched up to kiss his cheek and then went into the kitchen to find something big enough to hold all of the flowers.

“Next time, I'll make sure I get a vase too,” Brock said as he looked at the table where my other flowers were sitting in the only vases Rosa and I owned.

I came out with a water pitcher. “That might be a good idea.” I smiled. “They're beautiful. All of them. Thank you so much.”

“Well, I owed you a big apology. Astronomical, I believe was the word Julien used.”

“Julien?” I couldn't hide my surprise.

“Yeah, when we got back to the hotel the other night, he proceeded to lecture me for about twenty minutes about what an idiot I was and how, if I didn't fix things, I was going to fuck up the best thing that had ever happened to me.” Brock stuck his hands into his pants pockets and gave me a sheepish grin. “So, again, I'm sorry.”

I nodded as I fussed with the flowers until I was sure I could speak normally. Brock's additional apology, along with his repeating of what Julien had said had gotten me flustered.

“What's done is done,” I said. “Apology accepted.”

Brock beamed. “Great!” He held out his hand. “Let's go.”

“Go where?” I asked as I took his hand.

“It's a surprise.”

Considering Brock's last great idea, a surprise made me a little nervous. My face must have expressed every emotion I possessed because he laughed and held out his hand, saying, “Trust me.”

I narrowed my eyes at him in mock disbelief but didn't press the issue. If I'd truly forgiven him, I needed to try to trust him. This wouldn't work if I couldn't do that.

Several minutes later, a taxi dropped us off at the Venetian. As we walked toward Empirio D'Gondola, I may or may not have squealed. Whatever sound I made, Brock laughed and kissed the back of my hand.

“I'm guessing that means you like my surprise?” he asked.

I nodded. “I've always wanted to ride them, but never had the extra money.”

“Well, tonight, money is no object.” He paid for a private ride for just the two of us and helped me onto the gondola. I settled in against his side and he wrapped his arm around my shoulders. I didn't mind that it was almost too hot for the contact to be comfortable, I was too enthralled with the setting.

The gondolier started off and I stared at the Grand Canal Shoppes as we passed. The water was smooth and a much clearer blue than I'd expected. The buildings around us were all fabulous. I'd seen them from far away, but unlike some of the Vegas attractions, they maintained their beauty up close.