Nothing.
I thought Grayson was perfect. At least, perfect for me, but I guess I was wrong.
Chapter Nine
Grayson sits down next to me in class, and I can feel his eyes on me. It’s been five days since I’ve seen him, since we’d had any contact.
“Hey, Paris,” he says quietly, his tone careful. I glance up. He looks gorgeous as ever, his dark hair slightly damp, dressed in a white t-shirt and jeans.
“Hello,” I reply, mustering a small smile. I look back down at my notebook.
“Listen, I need to—” Grayson starts but is cut off when the lecturer stalks talking. Glad for the small reprieve, I try to ignore Grayson as much as I can, and concentrate on the man talking at the front of the room. I can see him glancing over at me out the corner of my eye though, and I know there’s something he wants to say. I’m really not feeling the hot and cold act, and I’m wondering if I should just cut my losses and not talk to him anymore at all. The idea hurts, which means it’s probably the right action for me. It saves me having to quit Toxic, which I was considering—for him. But now… Hell, it’s probably better this way.
Grayson clears his throat. “Can we talk?” he says in a soft tone.
I don’t look up. “What about?”
“You know what about, Paris,” he says. I look over to see his hands clenched on the table, his eyes on me. I see a flash of worry in them, before he manages to contain it. What could he possibly be worried about? He’s the one who made a conscious decision to put space between us, to go away without so much as a word. He was sending me a message, and boy, I got it loud and clear.
“Where did you go?” I reluctantly ask. I know what Jake told me, but I want to hear it from him.
He runs his hands through his hair, mussing it. “Went with my dad on a business trip.”
I want to say, ‘and what, they don’t have phones where you are?’ but I don’t. The rest of the class passes in tense silence. Grayson follows behind me as I exit the class, gently grabbing my wrist and pulling me to a stop when we hit the car park.
“Come to my house so we can talk?” His voice is almost pleading.
I pull my arm out of his hold and turn to face him. “Look Grayson, I think we should just be friends.”
He winces, and makes a sound in his throat. “I want to be more than your friend, Paris. I want us to start over—more than anything in the world.”
He has a great way of showing it, doesn’t he? “Yeah, it’s not really working for me,” I say, wringing my hands. He’s taken my heart and stomped on it. I didn’t deserve that. I know I deserve better. I can’t look at his handsome face without feeling hurt.
“It was working until…” he trails off, probably thinking about that night. Yeah, I really don’t want to bring that night up either, but something has to be said.
“It was and now it isn’t. Do you know you just leaving like that was even worse than what happened that night,” I say. He pales, running a hand down his face.
“I don’t know what the fuck I was thinking,” he says. “I know I’ve messed this up but—”
I cut him off. “I don’t know what you were thinking either. But if you wanted to hurt me so badly that I stop caring, I’d say you’ve succeeded,” I lie. “I’ll see you around,” I say, trying to pass off a grimace for a smile. Grayson takes a step forward, but I shake my head. I do this embarrassing wave with my hand, and then turn around and head in the direction of my apartment. I have to work tonight, so I want to relax for a little before I have to go in. When I get out of the car park, and onto the walking path along the main road, I look back. Grayson is still standing where I left him, looking down. His posture screams defeat. I sigh, and turn back around, clutching my palm to my chest.
Maybe Grayson Mills wasn’t meant for me after all.
I grab my bag, filled with my makeup and shoes, and head toward the door.
“Where are you going?” Anaya asks, popping a grape into her mouth. Most nights, she’s at Paul’s, but on the occasions she’s home, she thinks I work at a bar. I get dressed at the club, so I’m just wearing jeans and a black top.
“Work. I have to go or I’ll be late,” I say. I usually catch a cab, but today Diamond said she will come and get me.
“Want me to give you a lift? I haven’t even seen this place you work at,” she says casually, staring at the TV screen.
I cringe. Yeah, that won’t be happening. Ever. “No thanks, a co-worker is giving me a ride,” I tell her.
“Okay, I’ll see you in the morning.”
“Yup, bye,” I say, walking out the door. Diamond is waiting in her fancy black car, music pumping. I open the passenger door and slide in. She turns the volume down a little.
“Ready for work, Snow?” she says, smiling wide.
Her smile is infectious. “As ready as I’ll ever be.”
We pull up to Toxic and walk in through the back door. “How long have you been a Toxic Girl, Diamond?” I ask her as we walk into the change rooms.
She tilts her head, thinking. “A few years now. About three and a half.”
“How long are you going to do it?” I ask, pulling my jeans and top off, standing there in my bra and underwear. I’m no longer modest with my body, at least when I come here anyway.
“As long as I still have the looks for it,” she says, giggling. “The money is good, and to be honest, I like the attention.”
I wish I felt the same way. I dress in all white tonight, a sheer white baby doll dress, thong, thigh high stockings and garters. They like it when I play on the ‘snow’ theme, and with my red lipstick, I look like an ice princess.
“Shit, I gotta borrow those shoes,” Diamond says, eyeing my white stilettos with envy.
I laugh. “My feet are two sizes smaller than yours.”
She rolls her eyes. “I can make them fit, don’t you worry. I can Cinderella that shit.”
“Cinderella or her evil step-sisters?” I joke, earning me a playful swat on my ass. Diamond gets on stage, and I take a few moments to mentally prepare myself for the night.
You won’t be doing this forever.
Pay your bills. Pay your debt. Then it will be all over and done with.
Chapter Ten
I sigh dramatically when I see a missed call from my sister, London. I have no idea what she could possibly be calling about, so I put off returning her call. I love my sister, but I don’t necessarily like her. Truth be told, she’s the reason I have this huge debt. It’s her debt. She borrowed the money from an ex-boyfriend of hers and when my sister left, refusing to pay him back, he threatened to hurt her. He came over to our house looking for her, and I was with her. It wasn’t pretty. He trashed the house and verbally abused the shit out of her. She tried to hit him in return, and he slapped her across the face. He was lifting his fist to punch her when I jumped on him and screamed that I would get him the money.
Luckily, he said he liked me enough to allow me to pay him back in instalments. Apparently, it pays to be nice to one of your sister’s many men. The debt started out at twenty thousand dollars, and is now down to ten. Half to go. I should feel proud of myself, but I don’t. I just feel tired, and I want everything over and done with.
I strut toward the private dance booth, hating this part of the night. It sucks that it’s also the part where I make the most money. “Hypnotize” by Gemini plays as I dance for a gentleman dressed in a suit. He probably came here straight after work. I step closer to him, pulling down the straps of my baby doll dress. He pulls me closer, trying to get me to straddle him. “No touching,” I tell him, my tone sharp.