Total pages in book: 99
Estimated words: 92782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 92782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 464(@200wpm)___ 371(@250wpm)___ 309(@300wpm)
“You weren’t sent up here to chat, Pandora. Get back to the floor,” Liam’s voice commanded.
She spun around, giving me a view of her naked ass before hurrying to do as she had been told. I went over to close the door behind her when Liam’s eyes met mine. Pausing, I waited to see if he was going to say something. When it appeared he wasn’t, I decided I would.
“If you don’t want to show me what to do tomorrow, then I’m going on a job search,” I told him.
“Got busy with some things today. I’ll show you in the morning.” His voice was deep with a raspy edge to it, like he was tired.
For a brief moment, I felt concern. Why was he tired? Had something happened? But I shook it off. I was exhausted from little sleep last night, but he didn’t seem to care about me.
Tightening my grip on the knob in my hand, I closed the door and locked it.
Turning back to the meal he’d sent up to me, I wasn’t that hungry, but I knew I should eat something. For a strip club, the food wasn’t so bad. Today’s sandwich had been tasty. The fries were even better. I hadn’t expected good food where women pranced around, dressed like the blonde Liam had sent up here.
Pandora. I rolled my eyes at that name. I wondered what her real name was.
Did they all have ridiculous names like that? I was curious about what the floor looked like and how many of them there were. Did they get onstage and dance? I doubted Liam was ever going to let me go inside the club, but that didn’t mean I couldn’t sneak down there.
Sitting on the bed, I looked at the chicken fingers. No fries this time. I lifted the cover off the other dish to find a salad. Did they actually serve salads at a strip club? The idea made me want to laugh. I could just picture some man sitting there with his salad covered in ranch dressing, eating while Pandora swung her leg around a pole in front of him.
My phone dinged, alerting me of a text, and I reached over the bed to get it from the side table. Sitting back up, I stared down at the screen, and although the number was one I didn’t know, the small portion of the text I could see on my lock screen told me who it was. The name there wiped the smile from my face. I had blocked Wallace’s phone number when he started calling and texting me nonstop.
Sliding my finger to open the text, I debated on even reading it. If he had really wanted to talk to me, he knew where I worked—or had worked. Not once had he tried to find me. Not that it would have changed anything. He’d been cheating on me. Even if I wanted to forgive him, which I didn’t, I was pregnant with another man’s baby. Wallace and I were over.
Unknown Number: It’s Wallace. I’ve been calling and texting you for weeks. It took me until yesterday to figure out you’d blocked me. I miss you, Liberty. I fucked up, babe. I’m so sorry. It meant nothing. Janie means nothing to me. You were working all the time, and I felt like you were drifting away from me. Please talk to me. Let me take you to dinner. That little Thai place you love. I’ll get reservations. We can talk. I know you’re hurt, and it kills me that I caused it. I love you. I will always love you. Don’t let this end us.
Sighing, I dropped the phone onto the bed and reached for my salad. That was another version of the other texts he had sent, except this time, he seemed less angry with me for leaving and was taking more responsibility for his actions. At least he was admitting he’d messed up and not telling me I’d pushed him away. Taking a bite, I chewed as I stared back down at my phone.
I had believed I loved him once, but the day I walked in on him and Janie, it hurt, but not the way it should have. My heart didn’t shatter. I’d felt betrayed and stupid for not seeing what was going on. All their flirty banter. The times they’d both worked late, going over orders. Janie had been given a job at Gabler Groceries main office, where Wallace worked. His older brother, Janie’s husband, was the face of Gabler Groceries and went to the stores across the southeast to oversee how they were running. He traveled a lot, but he made three times more than Wallace did. It was a sore point for him.
Another text came.
Setting down my salad, I picked up my phone to read more of his pointless words. He was wasting his time with this.