Stripped - A Forbidden Hot Boss Romance

Chapter Eleven - AlyssaA month ago, my doctor confirmed what I already knew. I hadn’t started to show yet, but it was only a matter of time. The morning sickness was manageable, but my body was beginning to change. My areolas were darker and bigger, and my breasts were so heavy and swollen, I could barely fit into my bras.

I hadn’t seen Shane since the night he broke things off with me. I’d asked for different shifts to avoid him and had given my lucrative timeslots to Rachel.

While I wasn’t making the same amount of money I had made before, I was doing okay. I was thankful I’d had the sense to save most of my earnings. I now had a nest egg that would see me through for a couple of years. If I was frugal, I could stay home till my little peanut started kindergarten.

I stared at my image in the mirror. Dark circles ringed my eyes, and my complexion appeared sallow. No amount of concealer would cover up my tiredness. I no longer cried myself to sleep. I just didn’t sleep. I was numb, which suited me fine because I didn’t want to feel.

Why hadn’t I remained steadfast in my convictions about men? Why had I let my guard down and fallen in love? Getting involved with Shane was the worst mistake I’d ever made—and I’d made plenty. But could I really think that when the baby growing inside of me was more than wanted?

I planned to hand in my resignation next week, and I planned to tell Shane. He had the right to know. But I would also explain that I wanted or expected nothing from him. That me falling pregnant wasn’t a way to trick him into anything. But if he wanted to be part of our child’s life, I wouldn’t stop him.

Perhaps one day I would come back to the world of stripping, but I didn’t know. I wasn’t PTA mom material by any stretch of the imagination. I wasn’t cut from that cloth, but I also didn’t want my child to be subjected to any bullying because of what I did for a living.

I pasted a smile on my face and was about to go to the floor when Naughty Naomi, a dancer Noah had poached from The Pink Pussy Cat, a rival club, sauntered into the dressing room.

She looked like a Barbie who’d stuck her finger in an electrical outlet. “I finally get to meet the infamous Red Velvet.” She wrinkled her nose. “To be honest, I expected more. I don’t know why the other girls are so intimidated by you. Looks fade. Don’t feel bad, honey. It happens to the best.”

The viciousness in her voice chilled my insides. “In this club, the dancers support one another. We don’t bitch, and we don’t backstab.”

“That’s the stupidest shit I’ve ever heard. I’m no one’s friend, and I only support one person—me.”

“It’s dancers like you who give the profession a bad name.”

“Get out of my way, Crushed Velvet. Out with the old, in with the new. Should I throw your stuff in the dumpster?” She laughed. “I’m surprised that’s where you didn’t end up. Word on the street is you loved giving the boss blow jobs, but you bored him so much he dumped your saggy ass.”

I lifted my palm and whacked it across her cheek. Her eyes widened, and she held a hand to her face.

“Shut your mouth. You don’t know a damn thing about me.” Shaking, I stormed out of the dressing room. Never in my life had I raised my hand to another person in anger.

I stood by the bar and ran my fingers over my forehead. Candy came up beside me and draped an arm over my shoulder. “It’s spreading like wildfire that you slapped Naomi. What’s going on?”

I looked all around. The other dancers were glancing in my direction and whispering between one another. “Not here.”

“How about we both knock off early and go grab some dinner at Waffle House?”

“Sure.” I smiled despite myself. Some smothered, covered, and capped sounded pretty delicious right now.

An hour later, we sat at a booth drinking stale coffee.

“Now that we have coffee and food, want to fill me in?” Candy asked.

I played with my hash browns. My appetite had vanished.

“It’s okay, sweetie, you can tell me.”

I swiped my fingertips beneath my eyes. “It’s not okay,” I said, my lower lip wobbling.

“Whatever it is, we can fix it. But you need to tell me what it is because I can’t fix anything unless I have all the information.”

I gazed out of the window, not really seeing anything.

“If you won’t tell me, I’ll try to guess. Shane was the one who called it off with you and not the other way around.”

The day after Shane and I broke up, I’d told Candy that we’d reached the decision together. That the infatuation had worn off, and we realized we weren’t suited. And that I hadn’t really loved him like I’d thought.