I tried calling Lester but, of course, that didn’t solve a thing. “I warned you,” he told me, and I could almost sense his satisfaction over the line. “You should've taken me more seriously, babe,” he continued, going off on an endless monologue about how I was covering for Austin and how I was being a complete fool for trusting a man like him.
“You know what I feel about you, Destiny. Just cooperate and I’ll make it alright… Trust me and I’ll make it worth your while.” Those were his last words to me, and you can already imagine what I did; I hung up on him, seething at his arrogance. He ruins my business, messes with my girls, and then has the nerve to ask me for my help again? “Fuck you, Lester,” I told him right before I slammed the phone down.
It’s not like I could help him, even if I wanted to. I’ve never seen Strokes or whatever her name is again, and Austin isn’t talking about her.
Not that it worries me, even if I knew where she is, I wouldn’t tell Lester. I don’t care about what he does, I’m not helping him, even if that means my ru
in. And let me tell you, since he closed down my club that ruin seems like the perfect word for what’s happening.
The first few days after Lester shut us down were the hardest ones. I barely left Austin’s house, completely glued to the TV and the laptop, soaking every bit of information I could get. Most of the girls working under me managed to get away and I owe that to Lux, but some of them were held up at the police station for days. It seems that Lester tried really hard to screw me over; he checked for work visas, immigration status, and all kinds of STD tests. Of course, in the end he got nothing. I didn’t open Dirty Destiny to make a quick buck; I did it because I knew how the industry worked, and I thought that women needed a safe place where could they could work, make money, and still keep a regular life. Sure, it helped that I made a lot of money with the club, but that wasn’t really the main purpose behind it.
And now that bastard is stepping all over my dream. You wanna know how much money I invested in that club?
Yeah, let’s not even go there, hun. Let’s just say it’s more than 99 cents, or 2.99 if you bought this book at full price.
Twelve.
That’s how many proper dates Austin and I have had. No strip clubs or bars; we agreed on that pretty early.
Lester is very probably still keeping tabs on us, so we’re trying to keep it low profile. We've been going out for dinner just like a regular couple, and we’ve gone to the movies. Can you imagine it? A man like Austin, who calls himself Python, capable of making women’s panties drippy with just one look, taking me to the movies.
In the end, I think it were those little things that made me fall more and more for him. In those moments I could see that, beyond the bright lights and the stages, there could be a future for us. I know, I know… Is Destiny falling in love?, you’re probably thinking. As much as it is out of character for me, I guess that yeah… I’m falling for Austin.
Look, it’s not a conscious choice, okay?
It’s just… I don’t know. I can’t put it into words; I never felt something quite like this.
I find myself waking up in the middle of the night, anxious about Dirty Destiny’s future, and then I just look to the side and there he is: sleeping peacefully by my side. And, just like that, all anxiety goes away and everything’s perfect.
At least as perfect as it can be with you know, my career in ruins.
Of course, it also helps that whenever I wake up during the night, Austin tends to wake up as well. And when that happens, what follows is pretty clear cut. You probably don’t need me to tell you exactly what I’m talking about, right?
You’ve probably pieced it together by now too; I’m living in Austin’s apartment. I mean, it’s just for the time being. He doesn’t want me all by myself in my apartment, now that Lester has spun out of control.
Sure, I protested at first, but it was like fighting with a fucking brick wall.
But you wanna know something? Can’t tell him though, okay?
Well, I didn’t want to look like I was over the moon when he asked me to move in, but, yeah, I was completely over the moon when he asked me.
In fact, he didn’t even ask; he told me. “You’re moving here,” were his exact words.
Since then my sex life has evolved into something out of a porn movie. And, God, I used to work in porn…so you go figure how crazy that is.
I mean, I just never expected that it could be real, you know? Loving the same man that gets me so drippy and shoots me into orbit.
But it seems like it is; I mean, we have fucked everywhere in this house.
Kitchen? Check.
Balcony? Check.
Bedrooms? Check, check, and check.
Yeah, I could go on and on, but you know where I’m going with this.
The best time was when he cooked for me. He left Maverick running Python and stayed home with me that night. I wasn’t expecting it, really; he’s usually so busy. But he showed up during the middle of the afternoon, carrying a bag. “Wear it tonight,” he told me with a grin.