Stripped - A Forbidden Hot Boss Romance

“You won’t be disappointed. Come,” he said, gesturing for us to follow. “I have the booth you requested. Private and away from prying eyes.”

After we were seated and Rafik had moved on to greet other guests, I said, “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve pre-ordered wine and tonight’s specials. The scallop risotto will make you think you’ve died and gone to heaven.”

“Good thing I’m not allergic to seafood,” she smiled to show she didn’t mind that I’d already chosen what we were having for dinner.

I poured us each a glass of Chablis and clinked my glass against hers. “Here’s to a good night.”

“You’re quite popular around here, aren’t you?”

“I went to school with Rafik’s daughter. She’s an old friend.”

Alyssa took a sip of wine, then smiled. “Old friend or old girlfriend?

“Jealous?” I asked, raising my eyebrows.

“Maybe.”

“We kissed, but there was zero chemistry, so we decided we were better off as friends.”

“Good.” She ran her fingertips around the rim of her glass. “Tell me why you hate strippers as much as you do? I want to hear about your preconceived ideas.”

I grimaced. “I should never have said that, and once again, I’m sorry I did.”

She shook her head. “We all say things we don’t mean sometimes, but I’m curious. Why do you dislike the profession?”

I took a large sip of wine and held it in my mouth to give myself a few seconds to decide if I would tell her. I decided I would.

“It’s like this. My father left my mom for a woman he’d met at a strip joint. Missy got pregnant, stole my dad, and left us broke.”

Her lips twisted, and she nodded. “I guess that explains it. You do know that while that does happen, it’s not all that common. Riding off into the sunset with a knight in shining armor isn’t what I want. Like at all. I hope you understand that.”

“I know. I’m not the bastard I first came across as. I’m one of the good guys. Promise.”

She reached over and placed a hand on top of mine. “I know you are. You’ve already shown that. I’m glad we have this chance to get to know one another better.” She kept her hand on top of mine, and I more than liked the feel of it there and the way the warmth of her body seeped into my skin.

Now it was my turn to find out more about her. “Tell me your story. How did you end up working at The Bachelor?”

“Nothing much to tell,” Alyssa said with a shrug. “Tale as old as time. Closet druggy mom kicks the kid out for not toeing the line and for turning into a surly and sassy teenager.”

“She kicked you out for back talking?”

“You’ve obviously never dealt with a hormonal teenager. Plus, she had her own issues with pills and booze. She couldn’t handle me. I did what I wanted when I wanted. Two wrongs don’t make a right.”

“Is that how you got into stripping?”

“Sort of. I went into foster care but moved around because I was a demon. When I heard what strippers could make, I marched into The Bachelor. Johnny didn’t fall for my bullshit and said not until I was eighteen. But he gave me a job. For two years, I picked up glasses and wiped down tables. He and his wife Phyllis took me under their wing. Phyllis was a dancer. She trained at the New York school of ballet, but an injury ended her career. I’d taken dance classes growing up, but she taught me how to move my body seductively. Turns out I was a natural.” She laughed softly. “The first night I danced in front of people, I was hooked.”

“You could do anything you wanted. You’re driven and intelligent. Why keep stripping?”

“I enjoy what I do. When I’m on stage, I’m in control. I don’t want people to think I’m a victim or oppressed. I’m neither. I have ambitions. Working as a stripper, you have to know how to sell your personal brand if you want to make money. The girls at The Bachelor are all businesswomen, which is something lots of people don’t get or understand. One day I will own my own club. You know, I was prepared for you to fall flat on your face so I could take over.”

“Thanks,” I said and laughed.

“I was afraid you would ruin everything we’d worked for by taking away the club’s character. For some of the girls, the club is all they have. Losing their income would have been devastating. But I was wrong about you. You’re pretty great.”

“You’re pretty great, too,” I said.

“Just wait,” she replied with a wink.

For the rest of the evening, we ate, chatted, and laughed. After the plates had been cleared, I sat beside her and placed my hand on her thigh. “I’ve enjoyed being here with you.”