by Nova Rain
“Oooh! I’m shaking!” He taunted, raising his hands in mock fear. “It looks like I woke up that street girl within you, doesn’t it?”
“Now, Rockwell,” I groaned, narrowing my eyes up at him. “Unless you want me to get security and kick you out.”
“That won’t be necessary,” He assured me, shoving the check back into the pocket of his overcoat. “Remember this, Ms. Harrison. It was your one and only chance to keep Chris from harm. You blew it.”
Whatever…
I could understand that Rockwell was trying to protect Chris. I did the same for the people closest to me. Still, that didn’t give him the right to interfere with his personal life. His bribe was a blatant violation of his privacy, as well as an insult to me.
And it really didn’t surprise me that it dominated my thoughts for the rest of the day. I was serving coffee, and my mind was drifting back to that large sum of money. I was handing out menus, and Rockwell’s smirk tortured me, making me want to head to Chris’s building and slap him in his fat face. In truth, I was very glad that I’d shown restraint. It wouldn’t matter that Sam wasn’t a hotel customer. It would provide Dorothy with a great excuse to fire me. With hundreds of thousands of dollars of debt, this was something I couldn’t afford.
Chapter Twelve
Chris
Rosanna was lucky.
She was working two, simple jobs. Sure, taking her clothes off couldn’t have been easy on her. She had to be very courageous and motivated to do that. However, there was nothing complicated about that. Neither was serving drinks. Both jobs were tiring, but they were not as complicated as mine.
Besides the coding itself, tons of things needed to be done. Marketing, promotion and advertising, to name a few. Dealing with those for well over ten hours that day had given me a throbbing headache. People were talking to me in the hall, and I couldn’t follow what they were saying. Why? Because, along with their voices, I kept hearing the same advertising slogans and promotion ideas that my subordinates had run by me earlier. Well after dark, I wanted to stick my head into a bucket of cold water, hoping that this would help ease my pain.
I got out of the elevator, imagining the moment when I would tumble into bed. People rushed by in both directions, and I spotted Sam talking to an elderly man, just feet from the entrance. He patted him on the back and dismissed him as my slow footsteps brought me closer to him.
“Hey, man,” he said, tossing a quick glance over at me. “Do you have a minute?”
“Not tonight, Sammy,” I uttered, my tone weak. “I’m exhausted.”
“I insist,” he put some force in his voice, the moment I felt his hand on my shoulder. “The guy who just left is a PI. He did a little background check on your sweetheart,” he stated, moving around me. “You’ll be surprised what he found out about her.”
“Who the fuck gave you the right to investigate her?” I grumbled, my eyes blazing in anger.
“It’s part of my job description, in case you forgot,” Sam rebutted. “There are a lot of gold diggers out there, my friend.”
“Right,” I said on an exhale. “She’s the stripper I took on Ryan’s bachelor party. I know. The wig she had on didn’t fool me.”
“There’s more,” Sam claimed, the pity in his expression baffling me. “A lot more.”
“Meaning?”
“Why don’t you go ask her yourself?” He suggested. “Let’s see what she tells you first. If she leaves anything out, she’s not worthy of your attention, is she?”
“What have you found out, Sam?” I addressed in a bass-deep voice, his refusal annoying me.
“Let’s just say she could have utilized her brain to make a living, instead of her body.” He implied and then patted me on the shoulder. “Talk to her. Goodnight.”
Goodnight? Like hell it would be… He had just dropped a bomb on me. I couldn’t go home after this. I did want him to let me know; yet, he had a point. I needed the truth from Rosanna. Honesty was of paramount importance to me. If we couldn’t be honest to each other straight from the start, our relationship would not last. Sooner or later, a secret could come back to haunt us.
Chapter Thirteen
Rosanna
Home, sweet home.
My sanctuary. The place where no one could bother me, least of all some idiot who thought he could play God.
Drowning in indignation, I needed something to take my mind off Rockwell. And since it was freezing cold outside and Rachel had just gotten off work, my options were limited. Watching TV would be a good way for me to take my mind off this day’s events.
The most popular sitcom of all time, “Friends” rushed through my mind. I loved that show so much that I had every season on DVD. So, I made myself a bowl of popcorn and decided to binge watch until I fell asleep on the couch.
Two episodes later though, my doorbell rang. A feeling of confusion mixed with fear struck me. Whoever this was, I hadn’t buzzed them in the building. I left the couch and walked up to my front door. A glance through the peephole sent away any notion of fear. Chris was on my doorstep, but his presence just confused me. He hadn’t called or texted that he would be dropping by.
Clicking my door open, I realized that I was in for a bad surprise. The mellow man with the warm gaze wasn’t standing in front of me. Somehow, the kind expression I was starting to get used to, had disappeared. Coldness had replaced it, along with a rigid posture.
“Chris, what are you doing here?” I asked, surprise written all my face.
“Sorry to bother you so late,” Even his voice lacked its usual depth. It was businesslike, as if he was addressing someone he worked with. “Can I come in?”
“Sure,” I said, stepping aside as I pulled the door fully open. I pushed it shut and escorted him into the living room.
“Someone I trust told me something about you,” he commented, hands on his waist.
“Does that someone happen to be Sam Rockwell?” I rebutted, suspecting what he’d been meaning to talk to me about.
“How do you know?” Chris blurted out, his voice rising up an octave.
“I’d like to hear what he told you first,” I tightened my tone, my pulse quickening. “Then, I’ll tell you how I know.”
“He didn’t tell me per se,” he spoke in the same, cold voice. “He implied that you could have found a more decent job than stripping off for money.”
“I would, if anyone was interested in some proper research and was willing to pay good money for it,” I responded, my tone stiff. “I studied Molecular Biology and Genetics at Stanford, Chris. I have a PhD in bioengineering, too, but degrees and diplomas can’t pay the bills.”
“You’ve…” He gasped in surprise, his eyes widening.
“I can repeat it if you like,” I added, giving him a strict look.
“I heard you the first time,” Chris muttered, lowering his gaze. “I know it’s a bit too early for me to ask such questions, but, uh…” He paused and lifted his eyes back up to mine. “Why aren’t you working in your field?”
“I don’t think you heard me,” I complained. “To work in my field, I need to find people who are willing to spend money on research. Most, if not all state-funded research programs have been a joke in the past decade. It’s either that or be a school teacher.”
“I know you won’t like my next question either, but what’s wrong with that?” He wondered, his tone softer this time.
“Oh, man…” I sighed and cupped my forehead. “School teachers make thirty-five to forty thousand a year. That’s just not enough. My father passed away in 2013. I inherited a mountain of debt: his mortgage and my student loans. My mom’s been a housewife all her life. If I don’t pay the mortgage, she loses the house. So, exactly what am I supposed to pay first with that crappy salary? Loans? Rent? Food maybe?”
“I’m sorry, Rosanna,” he uttered, his voice returning to its normal standards. “I had no idea about all that.”
“Don’t apologize,” I requested. �
�You didn’t offend me or anything. Which can’t be said of your buddy. He came by the hotel this morning. He offered me a hundred thousand dollars to quit my job at ‘Eleganza.’”
“What?!” All of a sudden, his surprise came rushing back. “Sam did that? Why?”
“Probably because he thinks I’m a bad influence,” I presumed. “His exact words were: ‘If the press catch wind of this, they’ll destroy Chris.’ I don’t know about that, but you need to have a word with your publicist. If I see him at work again, I’ll have security throw him through the glass headfirst. You can’t imagine how embarrassed I was.”
He puffed air out of his cheeks. “Damn it, Sammy. Why the hell do you have to interfere with everything?”
“Chris, I’m only going to say this once, so please, don’t forget it.” I made my voice sound sweeter. “I didn’t choose to become a stripper. I don’t like it, but I don’t hate it, either, because it pays a lot better than any other job I’ve tried so far.”
“What you’re doing for your mother is admirable. I’d like to…” he paused. “Never mind.” He waved his hand, tearing his gaze away from me.
“You’d like to what?” I posed the question, my curiosity piquing.
“Watch ‘Friends’ with you,” he replied, spotting the DVD box on the table. “I’m going to make us some more popcorn. Where do you keep it?”
I snorted in amusement. “In the cabinet over the fridge.”
He started off down the hall, his last sentence before mentioning “Friends” replaying in my mind. Was he about to say that he was going to help me out with paying off those loans? Maybe. I couldn’t be sure. For a moment, I considered forcing the issue. But, seeing him smiling down at me, carrying an even bigger bowl of popcorn caused me to have a change of heart. Things had gone quite tense between us. That tension might have been gone, but if I insisted, I could bring it right back.
“Cute pajamas.” He teased, pointing at the pink teddy bear over my chest.
“Oh, I can take them off if you like,” I suggested, assuming a husky tone. “I’ll just have to bring a blanket. My place is not as warm as yours.”
Chris curled his fingers around my wrist and eased me down onto the couch. “Girl, that’s the first thing I imagined when I walked through the door. Even though I was upset, just seeing you triggered my imagination. But I’m so tired that I have to pass this time. Sorry.”
“You really are a mess,” I laughed, leaning over towards him. I wrapped my arms around his neck and pulled him in, sucking in a deep breath. I savored his masculine scent and kissed him on the side of his neck as he welcomed me in his embrace. I might have been a little disappointed that we wouldn’t have sex that night, but I’d gotten much more in return than just a steamy encounter. I got to see another side of him. And the best thing about it? He had been mature. He didn’t storm into my apartment, fuming with anger. Chris had handled this with subtlety. I liked how cool he had been throughout our conversation.
We spent the night watching “Friends,” with me lying on his chest, feeling it rise and fall underneath me. The binge watching was only interrupted by the occasional kiss. His caresses tempted me more than once. In spite of that, I respected his wish. An encounter with an exhausted Chris was not going to be like the passionate night we had spent in his apartment. He had spoiled me, and now, I wanted every night with him to be exactly like that or even better.
Chapter Fourteen
Chris
“I studied Molecular Biology and Genetics.”
“I don’t work in my field. I flaunt my body to strangers because that’s what pays the bills.”
Rosanna hadn’t said that last bit, but it was one hundred percent true. Life itself had put her in this awful predicament. She was doing everything she could to survive. If that meant that she had to humiliate herself, so be it. Man, she had guts. I had to give her that. Many women in her shoes would not have been as brave. They would have rolled over and taken fate’s punishment. In other words, they wouldn’t have paid their debt; they’d let the bank repossess their house and live on the street. Yet, Rosanna wasn’t willing to go down without a fight. On the contrary, she seemed determined to hold on to whatever her father had left her before his passing.
It was this determination that put me in a rather awkward position. I admired it, but at the same time, it posed an issue. Listening to her story speared a desire inside, a desire that could spell trouble. I wanted to provide a helping hand. I wanted to help her out, because there was so much more she could be doing other than pole dancing and waitressing. She wasn’t the average high-school dropout. She had studied something, and she had never had the chance to work in her field.
Nevertheless, I had to consider the fact that she had been her own woman, long before she met me. Rosanna was used to making decisions for herself. How would she react if someone meddled in her life? What would she have to say, if I found her a well-paid research project? Happily for me, my dilemma didn’t last more than a couple of hours. She had been in this life for far too long. She had been living in uncertainty for years, not knowing if she would have enough money to just get by. I had the connections to pull her out of that situation. Rosanna’s reaction about me messing with her professional future was a concern indeed, but I would worry about that later.
That morning, I chose to go straight to Sam’s office on the thirty-seventh floor, because I needed to discuss this with him, as well as his detective’s findings. Halting outside his door, I sucked in a few, deep breaths. I knew I was going to find him in a haze of smoke. He had had this bad habit for a long time, and he just wouldn’t quit. Still, when I did walk into the room, I noticed a major change. Sam was in a haze, but it didn’t torture my nostrils like the smoke used to do. To my surprise, the fog smelled very good. It was a mixture of strawberry and banana. Sam himself was writing something down on his notepad, a large device in his other hand.
“Damn…” I coughed, waving the clouds away. “Did you decide to smoke fruit or something?”
“I decided to quit smoking, big man,” my friend claimed, bringing the device to his lips. Pressing a button on it, he inhaled, until his chest puffed up. I couldn’t help but laugh, the moment he exhaled. Clouds of vapor poured out of his mouth and rose up in the air, obscuring my view. “This is called ‘vaping.’ It’s not exactly innocent, but it’s a lot healthier than smoking.”
“Put that thing down, will you?” I urged, standing in front of his desk. “I want to be able to see you when I’m talking to you.”
“Alright,” Sam accepted, indulging me. “Is this about what I told you last night?”
“Yeah.” I said with a nod. “Your detective was right about one thing. Rosanna has studied Molecular Biology and Genetics, but she’s inherited a ton of debt from her father. Right now, she’s supporting herself and her mother. She wouldn’t be able to do that on a school teacher’s salary, or by working on government-funded research projects. I’m surprised your detective didn’t mention that.”
“He hasn’t obtained her financial records yet,” he spoke in a lower voice. “He’ll call me as soon as he does. So, she’s actually forced to work as a stripper.”
“That’s right,” I affirmed. “I want to get her out of that shit, Sammy. Can you…?”
“No,” he interrupted, the indifference in his voice bothering me. “You’re on your own on this one, buddy.”
“No what?” I winced. “I haven’t even told you what I wanted from you yet.”
“Chris, it doesn’t matter.” He assumed a tighter tone. “You went out with her; I’m assuming you banged her. Good for you. Now, move on. There are a lot better options for you out there than that stripper. Take Helen Greer, for example. She’s twenty-six, heir to a health and beauty empire that’s worth billions. Why don’t you…?”
“Will you shut up already?” I grumbled, tossing a fierce glare down at him. “I don’t give a rat’s ass about that Greer girl. I’ve only seen her once, and I�
�ll be damned if I liked that snob bitch. I’m not asking you for a favor here, Sammy. I demand that you do your job. Most pharmaceuticals are eager to fund research projects, and they pay good money for them. I want you to make a list of the pharmaceuticals who are starting out such projects in the next six months. Let me know when you have it.”
“That sounds more like a job for your PA,” he groaned, thrusting his arms out to the side. “Why do you want me to do that?”
“Because I want you to contact those pharmaceuticals yourself and tell them I have a personal interest in this,” I explained. “They’ll take you more seriously, if you couple your job title with that.”
He sighed, his eyes still on mine. “Okay, I’ll do it. It’s going to take some time, though. I need to schedule meetings with people from those pharmaceuticals. I can’t discuss this over the phone.”
“You have one week.” I attempted a firm tone, calming my breath. “Have a good day.”
I headed back to the door, frustration still festering in me. Sam had been investigating Rosanna without my permission, but was that enough for him? No. He had advised me to start seeing someone else, just because she happened to be rich. Classic Sammy… According to him, I had to keep up the persona of a guy who would only do things that would satisfy the average citizen. But this was my life. I was the one to decide who I would date. I wouldn’t start a relationship with someone just because it would be good for sales.
Chapter Fifteen
Rosanna
“You’re working the afternoon shift with Catherine.”
Dorothy’s words that morning tore my good mood to shreds. After a wonderful night with Chris, I had been hoping that the next day would be just as good.