Page 20 of Ruining Hattie

HATTIE

S ince Bastion told me I can set my own hours, on Tuesday and Wednesday, I make sure I’m at the club by nine in the morning.

At least this way I can get work done uninterrupted, and I’m not forced to face the debauchery of the environment I’m in.

No one else is here except for the cleaners, who arrive mid-morning. Bastion arrives around lunchtime.

I make sure to stay in the office once everyone else arrives mid-afternoon, and when I leave, I keep my head down until I’m back out on the street.

As far as the tasks I have to do for my job, that portion of things is going well. That’s one thing I’ve always liked about numbers—they’re constant. And while the software I’m using might be different, as are the processes that each business uses, math is math, and it doesn’t change.

I haven’t seen Bastion around the condo since I’ve been going in to work early and he stays late at the club, so it’s like I have the entire place to myself.

Though it sounds good, I’ve been lonely.

It reminds me a lot of when I first moved to Wisconsin.

I decided last night that I would see if there’s a church nearby that I can attend.

Not only will it help me center myself, but it might lead to me making some friends.

Lord knows there’s no one at work I have anything in common with.

On Thursday evening, I’m about to shut everything down for the day when my phone buzzes on my desk. I pick it up to see a message from Taylor.

Checking in that you’re still alive and well.

I smile, my chest aching, and wish we were in the same city.

I keep telling you I’m fine.

I haven’t told Taylor or my parents what happened with the apartment I was supposed to move into and that I’m living with Bastion.

Nor do they know about the strip club—obviously.

Every time Taylor insists that we video chat so I can show her the place, I make an excuse, but that will only last so long.

Thank goodness my parents aren’t tech savvy, so they haven’t insisted on trying a video chat.

I just have to make sure mystery man hasn’t kidnapped you and sold you into sex slavery or something.

I roll my eyes. No matter how many times I tell her Bastion is a good person, she doesn’t seem to believe me. And I still believe it. We may have very different lifestyles and beliefs, but at his core, I know he’s a good person.

“What’s with the eye roll?”

Bastion’s voice surprises me, and I straighten in my chair, setting the phone face down on the desk.

“Nothing. Just my best friend being overprotective.”

He’s just come in the office door, and instead of going to sit down at his desk as he normally would, he leans against the edge of his desk and crosses his arms, studying me.

“Overprotective about what?” His gaze is steady, and I shift in my seat.

“Nothing serious. She’s just concerned about me moving across the country on my own and not having anyone here.”

“You have me,” he says matter-of-factly, but we’re never together.

“I’ve barely seen you.” I don’t know where the words come from when they slip out of my mouth or why they sound so sharp.

He tilts his head, a small smile on his face. “I came in here to tell you to pack your things up. We’re due at the condo in”—he glances at his expensive watch—“twenty minutes.”

“What for?” My pulse picks up as a mix of excitement and trepidation courses through my body.

“A surprise. C’mon, grab your stuff and we can walk back together.” He pushes off the desk and walks back to the office door.

I sign out of the computer and shut it down, make sure everything is arranged neatly on my desk, slide my phone into my purse, and join him. Bastion locks the office door behind me, and we walk down the hallway together.

We step out of the doorway beside the stage, and as always, it takes a moment for my eyes to get used to the dimness of the bar and the neon lights reflecting off all the shiny surfaces. Music pumps through the packed space.

I avoid looking at whatever is going on onstage, concentrating my efforts on looking ahead so I can get out of here, but Bastion pulls me to a stop when we’re about halfway through the space.

When I turn to look at him, he holds up his finger in a one-minute gesture and walks over to talk to the bartender.

Great. Now what am I supposed to do? If I rush out of here, I’ll look like a child, but my muscles grow more and more tense as I stand here.

A quick glance at the stage, and I spot Renee. She’s still dressed, thank God. I think she must have just started her set. Though I want to look away, it’s difficult. She’s a great dancer, mesmerizing, and I can’t take my eyes off her.

I’m not sure what I thought the women did on stage, but I didn’t realize they were so talented. In my head, they just took off their clothes.

Renee moves over to the pole and swings around it once, coming to a stop and arching her hips out while facing the audience, looking around the room. She catches my eye and winks before hooking her leg around the pole and twirling around again.

“You ready?”

I startle at Bastion’s voice—as though I’ve been caught doing something I shouldn’t by watching Renee. I spin around to face him.

“Yep!” Then I head toward the exit as if I’m on the Olympic speed walking team.

Bastion chuckles as he exits behind me. “You know there’s nothing wrong with watching. It doesn’t make you a bad person.”

I ignore his taunt and change the subject. “Everything okay?”

He catches my meaning and says, “Yeah, I just heard from one of our liquor suppliers that we’re going to be short-shipped this week and wanted to let him know.”

“So, what’s this surprise?” I ask as we turn the corner to head up the street.

“You’ll see.”

I sigh as we cross the street, dodging the other pedestrians.

“What’s wrong, don’t you like surprises, Hattie?”

“I used to, but this last surprise kind of threw me for a loop, so I’m reconsidering my stance on them.”

“God, you kill me sometimes,” he murmurs to himself.

We reach the sidewalk, and Bastion sets his hand on my lower back to steer me around a large group of teens headed our way. The urge to pull away rises, if only because it feels too good having his hand there.

“Again, I’m sorry I wasn’t more upfront with you, but has it really been that bad?”

I don’t bother responding. I don’t know how I feel yet. Logic and my feelings are at war with my conscience, and everything is muddled in my head.

“How long do you think this surprise will take? I was going to head back out after I ate dinner.”

“Where were you planning to go?” Bastion asks.

“Shopping. Like you said, I need to grab a few things to wear to work. I feel like a child when I’m at The Black Orchid.”

Bastion hums his approval.

A few minutes later, we’re entering the lobby of Bastion’s building, saying a quick hello to Jeffery, and heading up in the elevator.

When the doors close, I’m keenly aware of Bastion’s proximity and the scent of his expensive cologne.

I didn’t know that cologne could be sexy until I met Bastion.

His cologne always makes me aware of his presence.

I squeeze my eyes shut. Stop it.

My thoughts are completely inappropriate. This man is my boss and my friend and he’s giving me a great opportunity, whether I choose to stick with it or not. Thinking like that can only lead to trouble.

The elevator dings, and we step off in tandem. I let Bastion lead the way down the hall and open up his condo, then I follow him inside.

“Why don’t you go change into a robe?” he says.

My feet stop as if they’re encased in concrete. “Excuse me?”

“There should be one in your closet. I hung it in there this morning.”

I don’t move. “Why… why would I need a robe?”

He tucks his hands into the pockets of his expensive dress pants. “I have a stylist meeting us here. She’s going to outfit you with some things to wear to work.”

My mouth drops open, and it takes me a beat to recover. I ignore my teenage self getting giddy about getting a makeover. “What if I can’t afford the stuff she brings?”

I’m pretty sure a stylist isn’t going to show up here with pieces from Kohl’s or JCPenney.

“You’re not buying any of it. I am.”

My heart hammers. “I can’t let you do that… why would you do that?”

He steps forward and takes my hand, holding it lightly in his fingertips and running his thumb over the top. “Because I know how uncomfortable you are while you’re there, and I think if you were dressed differently, it would help you relax a bit, fit in more.”

“I’m not going to be half naked.” There’s no way I could pull off something like the dancers wear when they’re hanging around.

“Noted. Now go get changed, and she’ll go through everything with you when she gets here shortly. You don’t have to take anything you’re not comfortable in.”

“You’re not going to leave me, are you?” I’m not sure why the idea freaks me out so much except for the fact that I’m uncomfortable around new people, and I never know what to say.

Bastion smiles, twin pools of blue twinkling. “I’ll be right here the whole time.”

It sounds like a promise and a declaration.