I grip Misti’s arm, taking her by surprise. “I need to find her. Where did she go? Did she get a new job somewhere?”
Misti shakes her head. “I don’t know. I mean, I guess that’s what she’ll do. Most likely. But she didn’
t say where.”
I exhale sharply through my teeth. “What about her phone? I can’t get in touch with her. I’ve tried and tried to call her, but it’s saying her phone was disconnected.”
She nods. “Those phones were part of working here. When she got fired, they disconnected it.”
I rake my fingers through my hair again, making it stand on end, mumbling to myself about how I'm supposed to take her back to St. Albans with me when I can’t even find her.
“Thanks,” I mutter to Misti, turning to leave, my very soul feeling crushed.
Sapphire is the one woman I’ve ever truly wanted, and now she’s slipped right through my fingers.
14
Ella
The next Monday, I sit on a barstool at my favorite bar drinking mimosas with my friends. A couple of them are from my old club, and a couple from some other strip clubs around town.
They’re all laughing and having a good time, but I just can’t get into it. I’ve been depressed for the last two days, not sure if I’ll ever see Derek again.
At first, I wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to let myself get so caught up in something with someone who I don’t even really know. That maybe I should just take this as a lesson and learn from it—no sex with clients.
But my heart just can’t get behind that. I know we have a connection that went deeper than sex. That night with him was intense. Crazy. Profound. Like nothing I’ve ever experienced in my life. And I want that. I really do.
I can’t give up the hope that I’ll see him again.
I sigh again, sipping my mimosa.
“You okay, Ella?” Misti leans and gives me a squeeze on the knee. “You look like you just lost your best friend, then got fired, right after somebody kicked your dog.”
I stare at her over my champagne flute.
“Oh, sorry,” she says, her face turning red. “You did just get fired.”
I did. But that’s not why I’m feeling like this. “Yeah, but I can deal with that. I can get another job. What I can’t do is—”
“You’re looking for a job?” my friend Stacie pipes up, leaning forward to rest her arms on the bar and look around Misti.
I shrug. I guess I am, though I can’t really put my heart into it. Not when all my thoughts are consumed with figuring out how I’m supposed to find Derek.
Stacie’s eyes light up. “We need a new stripper at my club. You would totally have the job in the bag with your experience.”
Misti snorts. “Even if her resume now includes fucking the clients?”
I give her some side-eye. The little bitch—and I say that with all the affection in the world—has no filter. Like, zero. And she’s a bit of a ditz, to be honest. Hence the dumbass comments she keeps making.
“Thanks,” I say dryly.
“Oh, I have to hear this one,” Stacie says, rubbing her hands together like she can’t wait to get the latest dirt.
Misti glances at me as if she wants permission to tell the story. So now she decides to think before she speaks. I shrug again. It’s not like hearing it again is going to make it hurt any worse.
“So, Ella here nabbed the hottest client on Friday night,” Misti begins. “And when I say hot, I mean make-you-cum-with-one-look hot. He had his choice of any of us, and he chose her. Then get this, he tells her he wants the most obscenely expensive private dance in, like, the history of private dances.”
I hold my empty glass up to the bartender, pleading with him with my eyes for a speedy refill as Misti continues entertaining everyone with the night that changed my life forever. Stacie is hanging on her every word, just like the rest of my friends.