The Affair: a New Adult Romance novelette Read Online Free PDF

she told me, “I’m Rosetta, but everyone calls me Rosie, got it?”
    She was femininely barking at me like a female mob boss.
    I liked it.
    Her confidence and lack of fear was intriguing.
    I nodded quickly. “Got it.”
    She continued to eye my physique as she asked, “You want a job, huh?”
    “Yea,” I spoke nervously. “I mean, yes . I am interested in the hostess position.”
    Rosie made me even more uncomfortable when she laughed. “Oh, we filled that position, honey.”
    I could hear Sabrina smack her lips behind me.
    I was honestly relieved.
    The extra money would have been a dream. Having the guts to actually wear those short shorts and six inch heels, while serving beer without falling on my ass, was a fantasy.
    “But we are looking for a redheaded dancer.”
    Before I could even respond to Rosie’s completely ridiculous insinuation, Sabrina’s laughter filled the air. Yet, she quickly ceased laughing when Rosie looked at her like she would shoot Sabrina in the fucking eye ball if she didn’t shut up.
    “You’re perfect, darling,” Rosie ensured me. “Bella bambina!”
    I could hear Sabrina muttering under her breath behind my shaking legs. “Did she just call you a bitch?”
    I ignored her and the urge to laugh and spoke to Rosie. “Me?”
    I wasn’t even entertaining the thought, but the fact that she even considered me had me beyond bewildered.
    “Sure thing. You are girl‒next‒door sexy. You will fulfill every man’s young girl fetish…”
    “She’ll pass.” Sabrina spoke my resistance before I could get past the shock in order to utter the words myself. “Let’s go, Stahl.”
    Before I could respond to this ridiculous notion, Sabrina’s hand was around my arm and she was pushing me towards the door.
    She swung it open as Rosie told me, “Think about it.”
    Sabrina shot back quickly, “She won’t,” as she marched me out of the door.
    She marched right by her cousin, Rainy, who watched us suspiciously as we got the hell out of there.
    “I’ll call you later,” she told her as we whizzed by her.
    I continuously stumbled in the borrowed heels as I attempted to walk as quickly as Sabrina was pushing me.
    As soon as we scooted by the bouncer and were outside, she began to laugh hysterically.
    “Fuck you, Sabrina. You get me in the strangest shit, I swear.”
    She doubled over laughing, leaning against the brick of the building. The pink lights of the Pink Rhino neon sign were flashing against her skin as she laughed so hard that she nearly came to tears.
    I began to search behind the trees and behind light poles. I even kicked off the heels, kneeled down, and looked under her Benz.
    “What the hell are you looking for?”
    “Ashton Kutcher,” I revealed as if it were obvious. “Because obviously I’m being punk’d!”
    Sabrina’s laughter was now unstoppable. Even I had to laugh. This was the perfect fucked up ending to a miserable day.
    “I’ve just been one big reality show today. First, I was Catfish’d. Now, I am being punk’d. Where are the cameras?!”
     
     
     

Six
    Two days later, I was standing in the middle of Sabrina’s carpeted bedroom floor.
    I’d stripped down to my bra and panties. I stuffed my feet into a pair of her tallest heels, which felt like hell in the form of an expensive shoe.
    Standing in front of her mirror with my hands on my knees and back arched to the extreme, I attempted to roll my hips and “twerk” like I’ve seen women do so many times on YouTube.
    “Shit, you twerk better than Miley Cyrus!”
    Katy Perry’s “Dark Horse” was blasting through the iPhone dock next to her bed. There Sabrina sat, on the bed, looking at me with wide, encouraging eyes.
    “Bible?”
    “Bible,” she assured me.
    I glanced at myself in the floor length mirror a few feet away from me. I looked like a pale redheaded ghost with no rhythm but awesome designer shoes.
    “Dip lower!”
    I did as Sabrina instructed. I dipped lower than I ever had