BetweenTwoBillionairesCompleteStripped (2 page)

“
Strippers
don't show up alone, fool.” She glares at me.

“
Maybe they do
for rich guys.”

“
I think
there's a rule against it.” She scratches her head. “Safety
in numbers, and all.”

“
Don't know.
Don't care. Not going.” I roll my chair back around to face my
computer, indicating that the conversation is over.

“
Are you
seriously just going to sit here and play on your fucking computer
all night?” She gestures to the screen. “There's a whole
world out there, Sarah, and you're just letting it pass you by.”

“
We're done,”
my voice is measured.

I can feel her icy
gaze on my backside. The tension in the room is getting thick, and
I'm beginning to worry it might suffocate me. Hopefully, she'll leave
soon.

“
Please,
Sarah,” she begs.

“
No.”
I'm unwavering.

“
I've got a
really cute dress you can wear,” her tone lifts, trying to
convince me with kindness.

“
Not
interested.”

“
I'll show
you.” She stands up and leaves, matching my stubbornness. Now,
more than ever, I wish there were locks on the doors. Her father
removed them because Ethel kept locking her door and sneaking out of
the house when we were younger. Even though we're adults now, he
hasn't put the locks back on. Maybe I should ask, next time I think
about it. That would stop her from barging into my room all the time.

Ethel returns
several minutes later holding a baby blue dress on a hanger. I turn
to look at it, and I feel a heaviness in my chest. She knows I love
the dress. I've told her that every time I've seen her wear it.
Secretly, I've always wanted to try it on, but Ethel is a real bitch
when it comes to sharing clothes. The fact that she's presenting me
with it speaks volumes about how much going to this party means to
her.

“
You'll look
stunning in it,” she emphasizes the word stunning. “You
can wear these too.” She lifts up a pair of matching heels.

Crap. This is the
one and only time she'll ever offer to let me try the dress on, and
if I put it on, it means that I'll be obligated to go. Backing out
afterward will lead straight into a fight that might blow the roof
off the house, and I really don't want that.

“
I don't
know.” I bite my bottom lip.

She knows I'm
caving, and she pushes even harder. “Look. It's long enough to
be modest. Besides, it's not like we're really going to be stripping.
We're just going to use the cards to get in, and then we're going to
hang out and have a good time. You don't even have to socialize if
you want. You can find a corner to sulk in until it's time to leave.”
The corner of her lip quirks up into a smirk.

“
So you
weren't really planning on stripping?” I ask, hopeful.

“
Girl, I'll do
what I have to do. That doesn't mean you've got to though. If someone
asks us to strip, you can just pretend to get sick. I'll do all the
work.” She gives me a confident nod. The idea of watching her
strip makes me stomach turn. I wouldn't be able to hang for that. I
just know it.

I give the dress a
longing look. It's cute, with a knee-length skirt, cap sleeves, and
white lace embroidery on top. Nothing that a stripper would wear. I
want to try it on so badly.

“
Come on,
Sarah. It's just one night. You can help your sister out for one
night.” She lays on the puppy eyes.

“
Fine,”
I sigh, caving. What did I just get myself into?

She squeals,
absolutely delighted. “Yes! Oh, thank you. Thank you. Thanks
you. You won't regret this. We're going to have the best night ever!”

How wrong she was.

CHAPTER TWO

I feel like a doll
standing there in front of my closet mirror with Ethel fidgeting with
the dress. It fits me like a glove. A well-tailored glove. I paired
it with white stockings, flat ironed my hair, and did my make-up in
neutral tones, despite Ethel's insistence that I wear smokey eyes and
bright-red lipstick.

“
You look like
you're getting ready to go to church,” she grumbles at my
reflection.

“
I think it
looks nice.” I smile at myself.

“
Of course,
you would.” She rolls her eyes. “I suppose it doesn't
matter, as long as you go.”

“
Be thankful I
agreed.” I turn to remind her.

“
I know, and I
am. I just wish you'd at least change out of those granny panties you
always wear. We're supposed to be sexy.”

“
What does it
matter? We're not actually going to strip.” I give her a
skeptical look.

“
Whatever. I
was just trying to make you feel sexy. Come on.” She grabs my
arm and practically drags me out of the bedroom.

When we get to the
end of the hall, she places a manicured finger over her lips,
shushing me before she looks around the corner to see if our parents
are in the living room watching television. Oh great. Are we sneaking
out too? I don't have time to object before she straightens herself
and pulls me into the garage. The coast is clear. Smooth sailing so
far.

We climb into her
car, and she peels out of the driveway. I give her a look of
disbelief as she curls her fingers tighter around the steering wheel,
focusing on the road.

“
Are you not
supposed to be going out or something?” I ask.

“
You know how
my dad is. Always so nosy.” She furrows her brows, probably
thinking of past conversations.

We drive in silence
the rest of the way. I spend half the time staring out the window at
the passing houses and businesses, and the other half looking at my
own reflection. I look so pale. That could be because of my
nervousness. There's a pit in my stomach filled with butterflies that
are moving around, anxiously waiting to take flight. It will happen
the moment we pull up in front of the mansion. They only grow more
restless the closer we get.

We pull into
Crestwind, the neighborhood where all the rich people in the city
live. The houses get larger the further into the neighborhood we go,
grander and more spaced out, with vast lawns and immaculate
landscaping. Finally, we reach a sprawl of curb-parked cars. We're
here.

“
Let me do all
the talking,” Ethel says as she swings into a space between a
Porsche and a Mercedes. As I look at the row of expensive cars in
front of us, I wonder if we should create stripper names. Don't
strippers usually use car makes for their stage names?

I want to ask, but
some of the butterflies have taken flight and drifted up towards my
throat, rendering me speechless. Nerves. They make me brain-dead.
I'll have to rely on Ethel to get us through this. And if it fails .
. . I can't help but wonder what the consequences will be.

“
Come on.”
Ethel opens her car door, motioning out with her head before she
follows it.

I take a deep breath
and step into the heat of summer. Ethel clicks the automatic door
locks, and I look back at the car as we walk towards the house. In
the line of expensive cars, hers seems only slightly out of place.

Once we get in sight
of security, Ethel straightens herself and takes the lead. The
security guy is huge, at least seven feet tall and muscular enough to
scare any fully grown man. He looks intimidating, his dark beady eyes
baring down on us without so much as a smile.

“
Name?”
he says plainly, staring at Ethel without emotion.

“
We're the
strippers,” she replies with confidence.

“
Name?”
he repeats. Darn. I knew her stupid plan wouldn't work. We should
just leave now.

Ethel isn't giving
up. She pulls her purse over her shoulder and rummages through it for
one of the fake cards. Once she's found it, she hands it over to him.

He flips the card
over in his hand, analyzing it. Then he looks Ethel up and down
before his eyes move to me. When he sees what I'm wearing, he smirks.
I look like an angel standing next to the devil. The sweet to Ethel's
sexy.

“
Go on in.”
He hands the card back.

Relief rushes
through me as we head into the house, though it's quickly replaced
with near debilitating social anxiety at the sheer number of people
here. This isn't a party like anything I've ever seen before. Most of
the guest list is male, and most of them are wearing business suits.
Ethel and I look completely out of place.

We stand in the
grand foyer for several minutes soaking in the scene. If Ethel has
ever smiled broader, I can't remember a time. This is exactly what
she wanted, and I helped her to get it.

She turns to me with
a grin. “Nice, right?”

“
I guess.”
I shrug. Not as nice as staying home.

“
Alright.
Well, thanks for helping me get in. This is where we part ways. I'll
meet you right here at 2AM or whenever the party is over.”

My mouth falls open.
“Are you seriously planning on staying that long? You know I
have to work tomorrow night.”

“
Live a
little, Sarah,” she tells me as she backs into the crowd,
waving at me as if she just got one over on me.

When she disappears
into the sea of people, I start looking for somewhere to sit where I
won't be noticed. Luckily, there's lots of seating. Chairs
everywhere, but really no place out of the way. I eventually find a
wall to lean against that's kind of away from everyone. It's the best
hiding spot I'll find, but still not good enough.

Waiters keep coming
by and asking me if I want food or something to drink. While I am
hungry, I'd feel bad taking food that's not meant for me, so I
respectfully decline. Again. And again. And again.

By about the fifth
time one of the waiters comes up to, the glasses of champagne they
carry on their platters are starting to look really good. I'm a ball
of misery and nerves, watching the clock on the wall across from me,
willing time to pass faster. It doesn't though. The minutes feel like
hours.

Finally, someone
else takes notice of me. Not a waiter, but a gentleman in a tailored
suit. He's handsome, but there's a strange glassiness about his eyes
that indicates he's had a little too much to drink.

“
I haven't
seen you here before,” he comments in a rather flirtatious
tone.

My heart drops to my
feet as I begin to fear discovery. Apparently, this guy knows who
attends these parties, and he knows I don't belong. Ethel will be
pissed if I get us kicked out. I have to say something.

“
I'm here with
my sister,” is all I can manage to stutter.

“
I would have
recognized a gem like you.” He completely ignores my words,
approaching me and resting his forearm against the wall next to my
shoulder, making me feel caged in.

“
I need to use
the restroom.” I leave my hiding spot to go anywhere else that
he isn't. Thankfully, he doesn't give chase. I glance over my
shoulder, and he's already moved on.

In truth, I have no
idea where the bathroom is, and I'm too afraid to ask anyone, so I
just search for another wall to blend into. If you looked up the word
wallflower in the dictionary right now, I think there would be a
picture of me beside it. I'm literally trying to blend in with the
wall, like paint.

It's going on eleven
o'clock when I hear a ruckus in the middle of, what I assume is, the
living room. There's cheering and whistling and clapping. It's too
far away for me to see what's going on, and part of me doesn't even
care. That changes when I see a man in a business suit headed
straight for me. He's all smiles and glassy eyes and pure happiness.

My heart speeds up
as he approaches, and I silently pray that he'll divert at the last
minute, but he doesn't. He grabs my arm and pulls me towards the
commotion, and though I resist and try to get away, he doesn't let
go.

“
Let go of me.
What are you doing?” I stumble behind him, feeling like I might
vomit out my heart the closer we get to the crowd.

“
The strippers
are here,” he announces.

The crowd breaks so
that we can walk through, and I'm swung over next to Ethel, who looks
every bit as joyful as those around us. She's playing the part of the
stripper, doing a sexy little dance to entice the men. She hardly
notices I've joined her. She definitely doesn't notice the horrified
look on my face.