A DEAL WITH MY BESTFRIEND'S HUSBAND

Nathalie.

The music from the club boomed through the speakers; the walls shook with every heavy bass that blasted through them. I stood up straight, making sure my ponytail was sleek. Sheesh... I'm such a perfectionist when it comes to my glam and hairstyles.

Zack-the manager-walked into the dressing room, only to find me there. He scoffed, folding his arms across his chest.

"Roxy, you're up now."

I gave him a curt nod just as my phone pinged.

"Just a minute!"

Without looking up, I grabbed my phone.

The moment I unlocked the screen, my face fell.

MOM: Rent's due. Send $2,000.

Emily: Nathalie, my school tuition is due. Please send an extra $1,000 for my upkeep.

"Shit," I muttered under my breath.

By the time I looked up, Zack had already walked out of the dressing room.

I opened my banking app.

Balance: $85.

A sharp migraine instantly stabbed the side of my head.

Perfect.

Just freaking perfect.

I slowly rubbed my temple, trying to ease the pounding headache before dropping my phone onto the dressing table with a sigh. Panicking wouldn't magically put money into my account.

So, like always...

I lifted my chin high.

Pasted on my stage smile.

Then strutted confidently out of the dressing room as though my entire world wasn't threatening to fall apart.

"ROXYYY!!"

One of the girls squealed the moment she spotted me.

I laughed, threw her a playful wink, then did a quick little twerk that had everyone bursting into laughter. If I was going to drown in problems tonight, they weren't going to see it written all over my face.

Not a chance.

The music grew louder with every step I took toward the backstage entrance, the bass vibrating beneath my heels until I could practically feel it in my chest.

"NOW, GENTLEMEN!" Bouncy's high-pitched voice exploded through the speakers. "LET'S WELCOME... ROXYYYYYYYYYY!!"

The bouncers pushed open the backstage doors for me.

Instantly, a wave of cheers crashed over me.

Men whistled.

Some screamed my stage name.

Others clapped so loudly the sound echoed across the entire club.

A slow smile curved onto my lips.

Showtime.

I rolled my shoulders back, lifted my chin, and strutted onto the stage, letting Roxy-my bold, fearless, wild alter ego-take over completely.

The DJ switched to the song customized just for me.

Lights on me, watch the whole room freeze,

Red hair shining like a midnight breeze.

Came from the bottom, now I own this scene,

Crown on my head even when I'm unseen.

My waist slowed down into a fluid, hypnotic rhythm, my fingers tracing from my breasts all the way down to my hips as the cheers grew deafening. I turned my body around, bending low at the waist, and let my curves bounce repeatedly, shaking them in perfect time with the heavy bass. Lust-filled eyes pierced through my skin, but I ignored them as I always did. I ignored every single stare I got.

The beat climbed higher with every passing minute, the thumping sound piercing straight through my ears. My body lowered closer to the floor, my back arched, and I twerked relentlessly, letting it jiggle. 

Don't mistake my smile for weakness-no.    

I built this fire from the pain I know.                                                                         

Step into the room, make the whole floor shake;                                                         

I'm not a dream, I'm the risk you take.

I could feel a thousand eyes on my body as I swirled sexily to stand up, reaching for the pole. But as I tangled my limbs around the pole, I felt a heated gaze fixed directly on my face. I hid my sudden curiosity with a fake smile, my eyes searching the dim crowd for that dark, intense stare, a realization that made my cheeks burn hotter.

Money on the table, eyes on the stage.                                                                       

I turned my tears into a golden cage.                                                                      

Call me whatever when the lights go low.                                                                

But I know my worth, and I run my show.

The whole room was hotter now. People were watching: some staring with pure, lust-filled desires, but that one person kept their gaze locked onto my face. My eyes searched tirelessly to catch their expression, but I forced my focus back. I'd be a fool to ruin my dance!

My body moved down slowly, parting my legs as I whined my waist sexily, twerking at the same time.

Suddenly, my eyes locked onto a pair of striking blue eyes. The whole world seemed to pause for a second, but the loud, thumping beat dragged me right back to reality. I forced myself to look away from him and continued twerking, but his gaze never left my face.

Weird! Do I look like someone he knows or something?! The thought lingered in my mind as I kept dancing, moving my body effortlessly according to the rhythm. I tried my absolute best not to look back in the direction of those blue eyes, but goodness... I couldn't help it.

I stared right back and frowned as his eyes met mine again. His focus wasn't on my waist, nor was it on my body; his facial expression was completely stoic, or maybe it just seemed that way because of the dim lighting.

Abruptly, the beat cut off. My head snapped toward the DJ booth in surprise. My shift wasn't even up to thirty minutes yet, so why had the music dropped? The DJ simply shrugged. Claps and cheers erupted through the building, and I took it as my cue to strut off the main stage, just as Bouncy took over almost immediately.

"Roxy!" Zack called out. I turned my body toward him.

"Yeah?" I answered, opening my mouth to ask why my set was cut short, but he beat me to it.

"You have a VIP dance session. Get going now!" he ordered.

I nodded, noticing his urgency and realizing there was no time for questions. I strutted toward the VIP section and stepped inside the room, almost freezing in my tracks. That same man sat on the couch, and his eyes were already anchored to my face.

His expression was still cold, and he was dead silent. However, knowing my level of professionalism, I understood he might not want a conversation. I didn't say a word; I just stood in front of the pole and started dancing.

My body swirled around the metal, pulling off my best moves, but this stone-faced man just sat there-cold, distant, and seemingly oblivious to the seductive performance happening right in front of him. His eyes were just stuck on my face.

That bizarre behavior fueled something deep inside me. I had a sudden, burning urge to make him react, to make him look at my body, to actually notice me. My body lowered to the floor as I twerked. I did the split dance, but he didn't even blink. His eyes remained fixed strictly on my face.

Finally, the time buzzer went off. I stood up, raising my head, and almost screamed-he was standing right in front of me. Damn... He's tall!!! Like he was towering over me.

"Oh goodness!" I gasped, clutching my chest as my nose was suddenly engulfed by his rich, masculine scent.

He gave me a confused look for a brief moment, then brought out three fat racks of dollar bills. My eyes drifted to the money in utter confusion, but my hands... oh God, my hands shot out before my brain could even process it, taking the cash right from him.

Without a word, he walked past me.

"Wait!" I called out. He stopped in his tracks and turned back toward me, his expression still impossibly cold and stoic. "Did I do something wrong?!"

He gave me a blank look, leaving us standing there in an awkward, heavy silence while his blue eyes remained stuck on my face.

"I mean... did you like the dance?!" I asked again, becoming incredibly uncomfortable with the quiet.

His eyes dropped down to the racks of money in my hands, then traveled right back up to my face. I tapped my fingers against my forehead, trying to break the tension. "Oh, yes. Of course you did. Why would you pay me this much if you didn't?!"

"I paid you that much because I don't want any other man staring at your body."

His deep, masculine voice rang through my ears, leaving me completely rooted to the spot in shock and confusion. Before I could even recover enough to speak, he turned around and walked out of the room.