The Billionaire's Valentine Vixen

“But, my Buick. It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine. It’s so far from fine, it doesn’t even know how to find it’s way there.” Roan nods and I look down the driveway where I parked the other night when I arrived, and see all the tires are flat. I heave out a hard sigh. “I knew you’d give me a hard time, so, sorry, but the Buick tires kept throwing themselves into a knife I had in my hand. It was crazy.”

“You’re impossible.”

“I can be.”

I fight the urge to protest more, but deep down, I’m singing and crying with happiness. “Thank you. It’s too much, but thank you.”

“Nothing is too much for you.” He kisses my cheek and gives me another whack on my behind. “Now, get going. I need to head out ten minutes ago myself. And remember, message me when you stop anywhere or when you get to your destination… Love you, baby. See you in the morning…”

As I pull away, the realization that Roan’s baby could be growing inside me right now becomes more real. My baby’s life would be so different from mine. Roan’s said he loves me more than once already, but I haven't been able to say it back. He’s not made it into an issue, but as the estate grows smaller in the rear-view mirror, I regret not giving him what he’s given me, and as soon as I see him tomorrow, I’m going to tell him I love him too.

Because, right this moment, I know without a doubt, it’s true.

“It’s my break.” I glare at Popcorn, who followed me into the back room where three other girls are in various states of undress, but he’s totally focused on me.

“You don’t need a break. It’s a full house. Fucking stroke of genius to have another post-Valentine’s day special, even if I do say so myself. We’ve made a killing and you’re going back on after Lavender finishes, then you’re going to give me my private performance.”

Ever since I got here, he’s been on me. Lydia was here when I walked in, crying, saying Popcorn flipped his switch again and if I don’t toe the line, give him what he wants, he’s calling in her debt and it’s not just Popcorn who’s involved.

She’s borrowed money from him and a few of his ‘associates’, who I know are deep into back-room lending, and if the terms are not kept that can lead to back-room beat downs, and it doesn’t matter if you’re a woman, they’ll break your shaved legs as fast as furry ones.

She’s been betting on sports games and playing poker and clearly, she sucks at both.

So, it’s been a shit storm ever since I pulled out of Roan’s driveway, and if Popcorn screws up the deal with my buyer, the whole house of cards is going to come down, so I have to do what I can to placate him and still finish the sale to the buyer who is supposed to be here in fifteen minutes.

“Fine,” I agree, calculating my angle. “Can we cut her short, I’ll go on now, then meet you in back right after. Then, I’ll take my break, does that work?”

He looks at the clock on the wall with his one good eye, and gives me a sneer as I hold my robe closed around me.

“Sure. I’ll be waiting.”

He barks at the other girls to get out on the floor and slams the door behind him as I let out the air I’ve been holding in my lungs.

I hear Lavender’s last song start and I know I only have three minutes to get organized. It’s not long, and to add to the pressure the door to the changing room opens and there’s Ropati, or Ropa as I call him, and I see Lydia talking to Popcorn just outside the door, looking frantic.

“Ropa,” I start, my mind racing. “Okay, I have to go on again.”

“What? Al, your dude is supposed to be here in like, five minutes. I was just coming back to let you know Vito will take over the door for me so I can chaperone, make sure this guy is legit.”

“Shit. I know, just…when he comes, buy him a drink, tell him I’m delayed a few minutes then we’ll go into room seven, do the deal, then everyone is happy.”

“Okay.” He turns to leave as Lydia comes in.

Her eyes are wild as she grabs my arm.

“I’ll talk to you in a bit, Al,” Ropa says as he goes back on the floor and I yank my arm from Lydia’s grip.

“You’re going to do it, right?”

I’m so furious at her but now is not the time for a family therapy session. “I’m going to take care of it, yes.”

I’m not telling her there’s any possibility I’m going into the back room with Popcorn. I’m going to do my next shift on stage, meet my buyer, then tell them all to go to hell as I throw cash in their faces.