Oliver Cooper's POV
Maybe I was too harsh on her. I keep an eye on her in my rearview mirror. She won't sit up front. She thinks the darkness hides her tears in the back, but I've heard her sniffing several times.
I feel like a jerk for upsetting her.
"Ahem," I find myself clearing my throat as words escape my mind.
She lifts her head, hopefully.
And i crush that hope by turning away and maintaining my silence.
I badly want to stop the car and apologize. She looks so sad and lost. Her usual lively spark is gone creating a stark contrast to the vibrant red Christmas sweater she was wearing.
What do i say without breaching the employee and employer boundary?
I look at her again.
She checks her phone again, maybe expecting a message, possibly from a boyfriend. Or maybe she's just tired and checking the time. For my sake I decide to trust the latter.
I ease off the gas pedal, letting the car's engine purr at a lower rumble. Downtown, where drug parties thrive, stretches ahead. Buildings are marred by graffiti and faded posters advertising long-forgotten events.
"Do you believe Gina is here?" She leans forward and asks.
Her emotions have just switched off. Does she often do that. One minute sad and the next okay?
"Let's hope so," I say.
"This looks like a place where desperation and hedonism collide," she states.
I secretly smile at her words.
I inch closer, hoping for any sign of Gina amid the crowds outside the clubs. I try to keep a low profile, which is why I drove alone and chose a beat-up Kia. I don't want to wake up tomorrow with her name in the papers.
We park at a familiar club. I grab my cap and bomber jacket, wearing it over my shirt and tie. I check for my trainers and put them on too. It makes it easier to fit in.
I step out and realize Jessie hasn't stepped out. Does she expect me to open the door for her?
I walk back. "Why are you still in the car?" I ask when she lowers her window.
"I'm good waiting here," she says with a nervous look.
I narrow my eyes at her. "Get out," I demand.
She sighs and rolls her eyes but gets out. As we walk, I note how she shields her face.
The bouncer stops us.
"Jessie, is that you?" he asks, trying to catch a glimpse of her face.
She lowers her hand and looks at me nervously. She turns to smile at the gigantic bouncer. "Hey, Teddy," she greets.
"We just stopped seeing you one day," the huge man says.
"Oh, you know..." She trails off, looking uncomfortable.
"Damn girl, this place hasn't been the same again," The bouncer shakes his head.
She smiles and glances at me again. "Have you seen this girl?" She asks me to show the man Gina's photo.
We watch as he studies the photo until recognition hits. "Oh yeah, she's wild. I think she went to the XXX Chic," he says.
Jessie thanks him, and we head toward the strip club.
"So, have you been here before?" I ask.
I wonder how she knows this place well enough to be recognized. She doesn't seem like the wild type.
She purses her lips, averting her gaze and says, "I did some community work here,"
The relief that rushes over me is a surprise, knowing she's not known in this dark underbelly for being a party animal or a drug user.
We stop outside the XXX Chic club, a painful reminder of where my sister once worked to keep us afloat. We pay and enter, immediately surrounded by booze and nudity.
She exhales sharply.
I regret bringing herâthis world isn't for her.
Instinctively, my hand touches hers and she blows out a breath.
"We'll be out of here soon, I promise." I gently squeeze her hand.
I spot Gina with her face buried in a stripper's plastic chest, and Sebastian enjoying himself nearby.
Sebastian is the first to see us. He nudges Gina, who turns to see us. She groans as we get closer.
"Why are you here? With her?" she asks, turning to face Jessie and her eyes landing on our hands.
"Oh God!" She groans again and Jessie quickly frees her hand from mine.
"She's here to apologize, and we go home," I say as a brunette with perky tits and a belly ring approaches me.
"Hey handsome?" Her hand moves up and down my chest. "You see anything you like?" She twirls, she is only ninety nine percent covered in a g- string.
"Yeah, a whole book of issues," I reply.
Jessie stifle a laugh.
She hides her disappointment with a quick smile, shifting her focus to Jessie, assessing her ridiculous red sweater.
"Anything for you, doll?" she asks.
Jessie's eyes widen, mortified.
"No," Jessie answers uncomfortable.
"Your loss baby girl," The stripper shrugs her shoulders walking away.
"I'm sorry. Can we go now?" Jessie speeds up her words.
Gina tips the stripper on her lap, who then leaves. "You want me to accept your apology?" she asks Jessie with a mischievous smile.
Jessie and Gina engage in a staring contest. I can see Jessie restraining herself. "It's entirely up to you to accept or reject my apology," Jessie says, pausing to breathe. "I shouldn't have said what I did, and I won't say it again," she adds.
Gina shakes her head with amusement.
"That apology isn't enough," Gina says with a sharp edge in her voice.
"What do you want me to say?" Jessie asks.
"You implied I belong in these rundown places. I'm not a Cooper; just a wannabe." Her voice carries pain.
"And i am sorry," Jessie repeats frustrated.
I step back, find a nearby seat, and choose not to get involved in solving their problem.
She offers a wry smile. "I decline your apology."
"Gina, let's go home, please," I beg her, realizing we will just go in circles.
"Do you have a fantasy, Jessica?" Gina ignores me and asks Jessie.
Jessie doesn't respond; she's as confused as I am.
"I do," Gina turns to face us after smiling at Sebastian.
"And?" Jessie questions.
"I want you to get up on that pole while we watch. Then I'll consider forgiving you." Gina gives her a wicked grin.
"She will not do such a thing!" I strongly oppose.
"I'm sorry, Oliver. Then I will stay where I belong. Here."
I've had enough. If I have to swing her over my shoulder and carry her out, so be it.
I attempt to take a step forward, and Jessie steps in front of me. She removes her sweater, revealing an black T-shirt that has seen its days. "Let's make a deal," she says to Gina.
"I love making deals and winning," Gina smirks.
"I get up there, I dance, you go home. If I make $700, you stop being a slouch at work and do what's expected. No more trouble from you. Deal?"
"Make it $1000, and I'll work extra shifts," Gina suggests.
What is happening?