Married a Stripper

by M. S. Parker

  Dramatic confessions were nothing new here.

  We both had a penchant for drama. It was just my turn this time.

  “So. Details,” she said calmly.

  “I did the whole hand modeling gig. That much was real,” I said. “And I knew he probably flirted with everyone. It just felt good.”

  “It’s okay to flirt and it’s even okay to have sex. You’re both consenting adults. Don’t be so hard on yourself, Gabriella.” Kendra smiled at me as she pulled two cups down out of the cabinet.

  “Yeah, but I let him pay me to take naked photographs!” My face flamed at the admission.

  She didn’t even blink. “For Bouvier. If anything, you could make a career out of it. I told you, you’re beautiful. It’s possible you could hit it in modeling and if anybody can make it happen, it’s Flynn McCreary.”

  “He didn’t believe I would do it,” I said sheepishly. “You know how I like a dare. And then he brought out body paint and, I don’t know, it just escalated from there.”

  “And there’s nothing wrong with that,” Kendra said and then shook her head. “You’re not going to forgive yourself, are you?”

  “For doing exactly what I judged other women for doing? Nope.”

  “I’m so sorry, Gabs. I keep putting you in these awful situations,” Kendra said, pouring two cups of hot water and adding in tea bags.

  I continued with my confession. “And then when I lied, you were so proud of me for my writing and I realized I was ignoring what I really want out of life. I mean…there’s the writing, which is going to shit. And there’s my love life…which doesn’t exist.”

  Sighing, I braced my elbow on the back of the couch and stared outside. “I don’t want sexy little flings, no matter how blue the man’s eyes are. I want love, the whole romance and flowers and everything kind of love. Ugh. I’m so naïve!”

  “It’s not naïve.” Kendra came down and sat beside me. Shoulder-bumping me, she said, “Love’s kind of the thing. We all want it. I’d even be willing to bet asshats like Flynn want love. They just don’t know how to get it. And that’s the difference. You do and you can.”

  “Yeah?” I glowered into my tea cup. “Then where’s my Prince Charming?”

  “Still waiting for you to find him, Cinderella.” She grinned at me. “Come on. You need to cheer up. There’s this party—”

  I stopped her. “This sounds familiar. A lot like the last time where I came out with a hand modeling job at the studio of sin.”

  “Yeah, it is an industry party.” She laughed. “They’re celebrating all the up-and-comers.”

  “You mean you?” I asked.

  “Well, yes.” She glowed. “Apparently, I’m finally an up-and-comer. Open bar, free food.”

  “More like all I can eat because other models only peck at it.”

  She grinned. “That’s my Gabs! Come on, it’ll be fun.”

  My stomach twisted as something occurred to me. “What if he’s there?”

  “No chance,” Kendra said. “Word has it he’s off to Europe. I heard the project director for the swimwear line complaining about how much he can get away with just because he’s Flynn McCreary.”

  “Then count me in,” I said.

  I was glad I’d agreed.

  I’d never been to this sort of party before.

  It was the kind people could see from miles away, thanks to laser light shows and the spotlights bursting from neighboring buildings.

  Then there was a red carpet. An actual red carpet. Kendra’s agent had sent over a gigantic SUV with silver spinning rims and when it pulled up to the velvet ropes, Kendra grabbed my hand and pulled me out. I had no choice but to follow her down that red carpet, trying not to look too dazzled…and trying not to fall or stumble too much in the extra-high heels she’d loaned me.

  Inside, still blinking from all the flashbulbs, I was left alone as Kendra was swept away by a flock of reed-thin models. I managed to snag a glass of champagne from a passing waiter and tell myself that I loved to play the part of the mysterious outsider. I was just working up a back-story for my fashion correspondent turned film producer when I was interrupted.

  “I saw you on the red carpet with Kendra Facet, didn’t I?”

  I started to turn with a snarky comment since I was sure I was about to be asked to be a go-between. Ice blue eyes looked down on me from a handsome, chiseled face and I swallowed the snark.

  “Yes, she’s my roommate. She invited me. I’m not just making that up.” I had the feeling I was starting to babble.

  He laughed, the sound warm and inviting. He was tall, easily six-three, six-four, and dressed in a conservative, yet expensive suit. As good-looking as he was, he didn’t look like a model or have the searching look of an agent finding an angle. That meant he was probably one of the countless executives that kept the fashion industry in the billions of dollars.

  “My name’s Edward.” He held out his hand.

  “Nice to meet you. I’m Gabriella.” I took it, smiling at the little tingle of warmth that went through me.

  “Kendra’s roommate.”

  “That’s me,” I said.

  He smiled again and sipped his drink though I could see his eyes traveling down the outfit Kendra had carefully chosen. It was one of the few things of hers that could actually fit me, though I filled it out quite a bit more than she did.

  I waited, assuming he was trying to find a way to bring up Kendra again. I would’ve done it myself just to get it over with, but here he was, speaking to me and I wasn’t certain I wanted to end that just yet—then I’d go back to playing the mysterious outsider.

  “You come here often?” I asked.

  He laughed, that deep sensual sound, and I felt it tangle in my stomach. Wow. That was some laugh.

  “Yes, actually. It’s kind of a family obligation.” He looked down at me and I saw something in those blue eyes shift, as if making some sort of internal decision. “Would you like to dance, Gabriella?”

  We passed our glasses off onto a passing server and moved onto the dance floor. Each step, each moment erased the Flynn incident a little more. Edward made comments about people I pointed out, never anything rude but always interesting. As people came up and tried to interrupt us, he introduced me and then waved them away, keeping his arms loosely around me the entire time.

  He was something straight out of a fairytale. It was like I’d kissed the toad and here I was with Prince Charming. It was easier to believe in things like love…or at least romance again.

  After a couple songs, he leaned over my hand and kissed the back of it. The feel of his lips on the back of my hand had warmth racing through me and I fought a dopey sigh.

  “I apologize, Gabriella, but if I don’t mingle, people will start to talk.”

  He winked at me and waited for me to let him go. I did so with a smile then watched as model after model deliberately threw herself in his path. When he walked up to Kendra, my smile faded and I told myself that was it. He had finally found the one he’d been looking for, and I’d be forgotten, just another dance. Then Kendra’s eyes caught mine and she smiled. They leaned towards each other and looked at me as they spoke. My stomach flipped. They were talking about me.

  As the night waned on, I heard his name brought up over and over.

  “He was just featured on the Forbes list again,” an agent said—I knew her vaguely. She’d tried to approach Kendra and when she saw me, she turned her back.

  “Too bad he’s never listed as a most-eligible bachelor,” her friend added.

  I covertly studied him and because I was doing so, it wasn’t hard to notice that I wasn’t the only one. A couple of Kendra’s friends, somebody I suspected was another agent, a few more models.

  I tried not to listen to the idle gossip and add to it my own ideas. I heard nothing but gossip and when I finally caught up with Kendra, she didn’t know who he was, either. Then again, she was drunk enough I was surprised she remembered who I was.


  The one thing I did know was that everywhere I went, his eyes always seemed to find me. Once or twice we’d raised our glasses and smiled, but he kept his distance.

  At the end of the night, or more accurately, early morning, I was following Kendra into the town car when she mentioned him.

  “He likes you.”

  “What?” I half fell attempting to get her into the car without falling. Once she collapsed inside, I paused outside the door to take off my—her—shoes.

  “The gorgeous tall guy. The one you danced with. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.”

  “Did too many glasses of wine turn you into a ten year old? Is this elementary school?” I asked, rolling my eyes. Kendra was always silly when she got drunk.

  “No, I’m serious. He came right up and knew we were roommates and he wanted to know if you were single.”

  “Did you tell him I’m out with a new man every night?” I kept up the false humor. I didn’t know how much of what she was saying was true or how much she’d remember. “I have a very busy, very elite and exclusive waiting list, you know. Maybe I can fit him into my calendar in a decade or so from now. I’ll have my people call his people.”

  She laugh-giggle-snorted and spoke with the cheer of the very drunk. “Told him you were single, but picky. Lived like a nun… mostly.” She snickered. “You weren’t a nun last week.”

  Her head fell back, eyes drooping. For a second, I thought she’d fallen asleep, but then she cracked one eye open. “Oh. He’s…I remember now. I’ve seen him before. He’s…”

  I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and my heart gave a funny little skip. “…Right behind me.”

  Edward grinned apologetically. “I didn’t mean to sneak up on you like that, I just wanted to make sure I caught you before you left.”

  “Um, thanks. Have a good night.” I realized I sounded rude, but I had no idea what to say. It was his fault for catching me off guard. I was a writer, not into improv. I needed time to edit or I said stupid shit. Case in point.

  “See, I told you!” Kendra called from the interior of the SUV. “She’s picky!”

  I shot her a glare even though she couldn’t see me. “Ignore her, please.”

  He held out his hand. A small crowd of party guests went by and called out goodbyes to him, but he just waved without taking his eyes off me. Nervously, feeling silly as I stood there holding my borrowed shoes, I went to step off the curb and then stopped, stepping back into them. I wobbled a bit and he was there to steady me.

  “It always amazes me how women can make it look so easy to walk in those things.”

  I shot him a look. “You clearly haven’t seen me walking then.”

  “Oh, I have.” He smiled slowly. “I’m still amazed.”

  Still holding onto my hand, he led me to the other side of the car and opened the door, helping me inside. He didn’t let go. Kendra’s eyes drifted closed and I sat there, not knowing what to do, sure I would screw everything up at any moment.

  “I can’t let you leave without you giving me your number.” He finally released my hand, but he didn’t close the door.

  “Really?” I asked.

  “Please.” He gave me another charming smile. “I’ll call tomorrow.”

  Six

  In the blinding morning light, I realized the end of the night was probably a champagne-fueled dream. It was entirely possible that my over-active imagination made up the pleasant story in place of reality. In real life, Kendra had gotten sick halfway home and there had been nothing of the entire ride that had smacked of a fairytale. She was going to be pissed when she got the bill from the car company. And when she saw her purse.

  The driver had helped me get Kendra upstairs and dump her on the couch. I’d made sure she was on her side, put a wastebasket next to the couch, and draped a blanket over her. All I remembered after that was turning the volume all the way up on my phone and falling asleep with my make-up still on. I was pretty sure I’d managed to get my dress off.

  Now, as I pried my sticky eyes open, squinting against the bright sunlight streaming in through the window, I was certain I had imagined Edward. There was a good possibility that, when she regained consciousness, Kendra would tell me I’d spent the night talking to a palm tree or other inanimate object. I hadn’t thought I’d been that drunk, but I must have been. How else could I make up something like the scenario that was running through my head?

  Why would Prince Charming want my number?

  I made it up. Okay. I know that so I can cut the disappointment short here and now.

  Since I’d made it up, it wasn’t like I was really expecting him to call, right? Of course, even if he was real, guys never really followed through on that kind of thing.

  “No wonder I’m losing faith in love.”

  Of course, speaking out loud made me lose faith in life—it just about made my head fall off.

  Oh, yeah. I’d had too much to drink last night.

  Then my phone rang, proving that point yet again as the sound cut through my head like an icepick, an icepick driven through by a sledgehammer.

  “Make it stop!” Kendra cried from the couch.

  I rolled out of bed, ignored my churning stomach, and crawled across the floor, digging under the rejected outfits from last’s night party preparations. Push-up bras, sequin dresses, costume jewelry, and a feather boa, but no phone.

  “Make it stop!”

  “I can’t find it. It’s like a drag show dressing room in here.” I winced as the phone rang again. Why had I turned up the ringer volume?

  Kendra knocked over a stack of bangle bracelets and grabbed my phone off the coffee table. She flung it towards my door and rolled over, groaning as she did so.

  “Hello?” I said breathlessly, not bothering to look at the caller ID before answering.

  “Good morning, Gabriella, this is Edward.”

  “You’re kidding.” I closed my eyes. I was such an idiot.

  “Kind of an odd joke, don’t you think?” He sounded amused.

  “I thought I dreamt you. Not all of you, just the last part when you asked for my number.” Oh, man…Gabs, just shut up! I shot Kendra a look. Was she awake? Coherent? She needed to be so she could stop me from saying stupid things.

  “It was pretty late.”

  “Or early, depending on how you look at it,” I said. “It’s still early.”

  “Depending on how you look at it, I suppose.”

  Now I was sure he was trying not to laugh at me.

  “It’s one in the afternoon.”

  He let me take that in for a few seconds. I squinted at the clock, unable to read the time. Oh, hell…I’m going blind! I swatted a hand at the face of it and then fought a hysterical giggle when I realized there was a silk stocking covering it.

  “One o’clock,” I mumbled.

  “One o’clock.”

  Head pounding, I crawled back to my bed and leaned against it.

  “How about dinner tonight? Nothing fancy, just a local place I love. I’d like to spend more time with you.”

  I thought about the hours of recovery time dinner afforded me, plus the time I would need to shower and pull myself back together. I didn’t let myself think about anything else. If I tried to figure out why he’d asked me out or what tonight meant, my head was going to explode. It felt like it might do that anyway.

  “Dinner sounds great. Can we say eight o’clock?”

  “Perfect,” he said cheerfully. “I’ll pick you up at eight.”

  Carefully, I lowered the phone back down and then my head. I needed a few more minutes. Just a few.

  I ended up taking thirty and then had to all but crawl into the bathroom in a desperate search for something to help the headache. That done, I started chugging water and braced myself.

  Next, I had to get Kendra up, because if I was going to be presentable by eight, I needed her help.

  According to Kendra, a ‘nothing fancy’ date was actually ha
rder than finding something to wear to a clearly defined event. Kendra and I faced my closet for a good five minutes before either of us spoke.

  “How many sport coats do you own?” she asked, a pained expression on her face.

  “That was my Tina Fey phase.” I sighed. “It’s a good look though. Maybe I should go with that tonight?”

  “Gabriella, it’s a date, not a business lunch. You have to show a little leg.”

  I sat down on the edge of my bed as Kendra started searching through the closet. I knew better than to get in her way when she was like this. Her expression was a varying range of disgust as she examined and tossed things aside. Some of the colors made her wince, a few textures made her shake her hand as if a snake had bitten her, and one blouse had her snickering for a good minute before she tossed it down and went back to mocking my wardrobe.

  Scowling, I asked, “Are my clothes really that funny?”

  “Yes.” She smiled at me cheerfully as she pulled something out and studied it.

  “That’s it.” I reached behind me and grabbed my phone. “I’m calling the date off.”

  “No!” She came striding to me, all leg and smiles and dumped an armful of possibilities on my bed. “You’re going on your date and you’re going to look beautiful.”

  “A date.” I sighed, still clutching my phone. “I’m still kind of trying to wrap my head around that this is a date. Doesn’t seem believable.”

  “What I can’t believe is that I didn’t get to meet this guy. He sounds delicious. Are you sure he works in the industry?”

  “You met him twice, party girl,” I said with a grin. “Man, were you really that drunk?”

  She grimaced. “I didn’t eat much yesterday. Nervous, excited. That and the champagne…”

  “Well, he seemed pretty popular at the party. A lot of people seemed to know who he was, but I’m not sure what he does.”

  “Well,” said Kendra, “that’s the perfect topic for a first date.”