BetweenTwoBillionairesCompleteStripped Read Online Free PDF

talk to her about things to begin with. She's
a horrible listener.
    I reciprocate her
interest, letting her words go right through me as she yammers on
about this guy and that guy. It's not until she tells me she made
over three grand in tips that I actually start to pay attention.
    “ Holy hell.
Really?” My eyes widen at the sum.
    “ Mhm. I'm a
damn good stripper.” She bobs her head with attitude. “That
haul was so good, I'm thinking about doing it professionally.”
    “ Your father
would be so proud.” I roll my eyes at her.
    “ Whatever,
Miss Morals. It's better than working at some crappy job like yours.
Miss Barista. You enjoy your bullshit minimum wage. I'm going to go
make some real money.” She pushes herself off my bed to leave.
I'm thankful. We're one hair away from fighting. In fact, the only
thing keeping us from it is the fact that I'm biting my tongue.
“Where's my dress?” she barks at me before she leaves.
    “ I'm having
mom take it to the cleaners. I accidentally spilled some champagne on
it.” I try to twist the truth so that she won't freak out.
    She huffs, putting
her hands on her hips. “See, this is the kind of thanks I get.
I take you out to have a wonderful night, let you borrow my dress,
and you go and get it all filthy. Let's see if I let you borrow
anything of mine ever again.”
    My eyes water
involuntarily at her harsh comment. Maybe I'm not completely over the
emotional overload from last night. As soon as she sees she's hurt
me, she leaves, satisfied with herself. I sit there and cry silently
until it's time to go to work. Then I pull myself together and head
out for another night of minimum wage labor, keeping in mind what I'm
actually doing it for.

    ***

    Life
returns to normal. Ethel gets over being angry at me for messing up
her dress. Mom has it dry cleaned fairly promptly, so that helps. I
return the heels to Ethel, and we make peace. I'm just glad it's all
over. Hopefully, she'll never ask me to do something like that again.
    I'm working an early
shift at the coffee shop. The morning rush has just passed, so I'm
taking time to restock the baked goods. It's hard not to want to eat
everything in sight. We have bear claws and muffins and cake pops. It
all looks so yummy.
    I'm lost in thought,
trying to get the display just right. I'm anal like that. Everything
has to line up perfectly. Apparently, I'm too into my job, because I
don't even notice a customer walking up. He taps on the glass to get
my attention. When I lift my eyes to look at him, my heart falls to
my feet. Those blue eyes.
    He seems equally
surprised to see me, but as soon as that passes, he smiles broadly.
“Is this your day job?”
    “ It's my only
job.” I scowl at him, though I don't know why. Maybe I should
keep my mouth shut, but now that I'm not upstairs in his bedroom, I
feel a lot safer about telling the truth.
    “ Now you're
being honest,” he quips.
    “ What do you
want?” I close the display case door and move over to man the
register.
    He pulls his wallet
out of his pocket and opens it up, extracting a card and tossing it
out on the counter between us. It's the At Your Service Strippers
business card Ethel made for us. My cheeks heat up as I look at it.
    “ I called the
number on this. It belongs to a residence,” he tells me.
    “ That's
because it's fake,” I confess, taking the card, ripping it into
pieces, and quickly throwing it in the trash before anyone can see
it.
    “ You know that
fraud is a criminal offense. So is trespassing.” My chest
tightens from his words. Is he actually threatening to call the
police on me?
    “ It wasn't my
idea to be there,” it's the only thing I can think of to
counter with, and it's hardly believable.
    “ No. I don't
imagine it was. Last I remember, you tried to flee the scene as soon
as the actual stripping began. Isn't that right, Cinderella?”
He glances down at my name tag, and I weakly move to cover it with my
hand. What does it matter if