1 Night (A Time for Love Series Prequel)

Chapter 1

I leaned against the back of the bar, trying to ignore the fact that my feet were fucking throbbing as I watched the girls on stage with vague interest.

Dip, squat, throw your ass back, showcase your tits ... It was the same thing over and over again. Not that you had to have a large repertoire of choreography when you were a stripper at a dive such as this in Vegas. Dudes were pretty easy to please, and even the worst stripper could leave with a couple hundred cash after a shift on the pole.

Still, I'd been working here for five years, which made me one of the "old ladies," and I often found the younger dancers' lack of range annoying. What was the point of doing anything, if you didn't give a hundred and ten percent.

This philosophy had always worked for me. I was one of the most-sought after girls at the club. I had enough regulars and word-of-mouth clients that I could pretty much make my own hours. Which was why, even though it was barely midnight on a Saturday night, I was on my way out the door.

I had a cool grand in my pocket, aching feet, and the latest season of Scandal waiting for me, so I was calling it a night.

At least, I'd be out of there as soon as Big Mike gave me my cut from the big party I'd just finished up. Closing my eyes, I tilted my head back and moved it from side to side, sighing when I felt how bunched up the muscles in my neck were.

"Sore?" a deep voice asked from behind me, and I barely contained my flinch when strong hands gripped my shoulders and began kneading.

"You know it," I replied, trying to keep my voice light, even though the sound of that voice and touch of those hands caused a riot in my belly.

"You busy later?" Micah, the owner of those very talented hands, asked.

There was at time that I would have jumped at the chance to have our most popular bartender ask me that question. But that was before we'd shared a spectacular weekend together. Before I'd fallen in love with him. Before he'd broken my heart by treating me the way every other man treated me.

Like I was nothing but a body, a face, a stripper.

"Yup," I replied, doing my best to keep the bitterness out of my tone.

"C'mon, Simone, when are you going to stop avoiding me?" Micah asked, his hands going still on my shoulders.

"It's not about avoidance," I whispered. "It's about self-preservation."

I felt his hands tighten and I knew he was about to respond, but I was saved by the lilting sound of my co-worker Ginger asking, "Hey, Simone, can I get you to help me out?"

Normally, I'd roll my eyes and give Ginger a hard time. She was the sweet to my salty, the breath of fresh air to my bitter wind, the good girl to my jaded bad girl ... But in that moment, I would have let her paint my nails and do my hair in order to get out of Micah's heat-inducing grasp.

"Sure thing," I replied, then glanced over my shoulder at Micah and said, "Thanks for the massage."

Micah took the hint and dropped his hands. He shot me one last dark look before turning on his heel and walking to the other end of the bar. I ignored the feeling of my heart deflating as I watched him walk away, then turned to Ginger.

"What is it?" I asked, my tone back to normal now that I wasn't caught in my Micah haze.

Ginger never took anything I, or anyone, said or did personally, choosing instead to remain positive and upbeat like always.

She is seriously annoying.

"A guy wandered in off the street. I think he's lost, and he's definitely smashed. I'd help him out, but Big Mike needs me on hand tonight to train the new girl," Ginger said, her already large eyes seeming to get larger as she pleaded silently.

"So, what do you want me to do about it?" I asked, putting my hands on my hips and applying my best I don't give a fuck look. "Put his drunk ass in a cab and call it good."

"C'mon, Simone," Ginger said as she put her tiny hands together as if in prayer. "He's really messed up and it sounds like he got separated from his friends and can't remember where he's staying. I know you're on your way out and no one knows the strip better than you. I bet you could figure out where he's staying and he'll be sleeping it off in no time. Please ... I'll cover for you any time you need it."

I snorted as I took in her angelic face. The girl had a bleeding heart and wanted to help every stray who wandered in off the street. She never thought of the danger, or realized how many people would just as soon screw you over as give you the time of day.

"Two shifts?" she countered, and I was about to tell her to get away from me when she sweetened the pot by adding, "An entire week. You can finally take that trip to Mexico you've been going on and on about for the past three years. I'll even let you keep the paycheck and I'll just keep the tips."

That made me pause.

I'd been dreaming about taking a vacation since I started working in this shithole. When you lived in Vegas, the last place you wanted to vacation was Vegas. I dreamed of an isolated beach, just me, my Kindle, and an endless supply of margaritas.

Paradise.

And why hadn't I gone yet? Didn't I deserve to get away? It's not like I had a family, or even a man to keep me here, working my ass off every night while giving everyone but myself pleasure. Maybe a vacation was just what I needed to forget about Micah. A little vacation fling could be just what the doctor ordered.

Narrowing my eyes on Ginger's perfectly made-up face, I made an executive decision and said, "You're on, but only if the deal starts now. I'll leave for Mexico tomorrow and I'll let you know when I'm coming back. You cover for me with Big Mike, and I'll make sure this poor schmuck doesn't end up passed out on the street tonight."

"Deal," Ginger responded immediately, her face blooming as she smiled.

"Here you go," Big Mike said as he finally came out from the back room.

"It's about fucking time," I responded as I yanked my cash out of his hand and placed the folded bills in my bra. I always felt safer having my money on me, rather than in my purse. "Later."

"Night, sugar," Big Mike replied, but I was already turning away.

"Where is he?" I asked Ginger, then watched as she clapped her hands and spun in a circle.

Jesus.