Chapter 16

16

GWEN

A s a little girl, I dreamed about New York as a place of glamor and excitement. But after my first night in the city, being curled up on the dirty floor of the subway train, with the stench of urine filling my nostrils, I couldn't believe I wasted so many birthday candles on this place. My first night in the city, and I was already living like a homeless person.

I always dreamed of living in a god-awful small apartment with roaches and a naked neighbor who did things like yoga with all their lights on. I would make friends in a coffee shop and not flinch whenever a dark figure came into my eyeline, thinking it could be Mason. I would have wine nights and basically relive an affordable version of Friends or Living Single, but not this.

With nothing to my name but the trusty suitcase, duffel bag combo, and a photo of Mia and Gio in my pocket in case I lost my phone, this was my New York experience, and I loathed it. It had taken me twenty long hours to convince the owner of a rundown hotel on 42nd Street and Twelfth Avenue that I wasn't a prostitute, drug dealer, or drug addict, just a girl in desperate need of a shower. After numerous threats and the mention of 'Big Joe' - whoever that was - the lady finally believed me and let me stay for only fifteen dollars a night. As I settled into my dingy room and lay in bed, I considered my next steps. Still, I could only think about my children, who were currently in California with Kelsey and David on an indefinite vacation.

My fingers tap restlessly on my phone screen until I find Kelsey's name. My makeshift living space - a cluttered and dimly lit room adorned with cheap furniture - serves as the backdrop for our video call, but I desperately hope she won't notice. Kelsey answers on the second ring, her golden hair illuminated by the warm summer sun. My heart swells at the sight of her face on the screen. Attempting to keep my emotions in check, I smile before speaking, but Kels can see through it with her big, concerned eyes.

"Gwen, what's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." I beam as if a ball of salt is not forming in my throat.

"No, I can see it in your face. Don't lie to me. Besties don't lie to each other," she scolds, her eyes narrowed as she tries to look over my face.

"Kels," I whisper. "Nothing is right. I am in New York. You are raising my children, and we are all on the run from a horny, obsessed, probably murderous Mason."

Kelsey sighs, lying out on her bed. "I know, but you are doing what needs to be done to protect your family, right?"

"Yes, but I-" My voice catches in my throat, and tears threaten to pour. "I don't know what to do next, Kels. I mean, I am living in a hotel that I am pretty sure is a front for a drug ring, and the owner already threatened me with the presence of Big Joe."

"Wait, why are you living in a motel?"

"Because where the hell else am I supposed to go?"

Kelsey's eyes bug out of her head, and she sits up, looking at me as if I had just grown a second head. "Taylor."

I sit up with wide eyes and shake my head feverishly. "No, I am not calling Taylor."

"The hell you are not!" Kelsey yells back. Another screen pops up, and I can hear the ringing of another call to join FaceTime.

Taylor is my best friend from law school because he was always in second place to me until I left to deal with my dad's debt. We also have done some strip study sessions, which always ended with him butt naked and me with just one shoe off. We even attempted to date once, but our relationship felt more like a legal battle than a romantic connection. So we made a pact to be best friends instead, but now I can't help but feel a twinge of regret every time his name flashes across my screen.

"Kels, I haven't talked to him since I dropped out," I scold, balancing my phone on my thigh and pulling my hair into a ponytail.

Kelsey clicks her tongue at me, and the deafening sound of the ring vibrates on my lap. The call clicks, and I see Taylor's shaggy brown hair enter the frame, a big smile on his face. He is in his kitchen, cutting up an array of vegetables.

"Well, if it isn't my two favorite ladies!"

"Tay Tay, how are you, darling?" Kelsey pops up, talking to Taylor, and the phone almost tumbles out of my hand as I try to hide my dingy hotel room .

"I'm well, just missing two of my favorite people in the world." He smirks, looking at the camera from the corner of his eye. "Hey, Gwen."

"What's up, Tay?" My voice sounds more awkward than cool and confident, as I intended, and I want to smack my forehead in frustration.

Taylor's smile falters as he catches the strained note in my voice. "Gwen, are you okay? What's going on?"

He sets down the knife and leans closer to the camera, his eyes searching mine for any signs of distress. Kelsey shoots me a pointed look, silently urging me to spill the truth.

I fall silent, and Kelsey huffs in frustration, looking at me with knitted brows. "Taylor, guess what?"

"What?" Taylor sings, obviously confused, but that playful golden retriever smile radiates across the screen, and I catch myself smiling at him.

"Gwen is in New York!" Kelsey says as if we are teenagers, and she is telling him I have a crush on him.

Taylor stops cutting his carrot and looks at the screen with so much excitement that my heart somersaults my chest.

"And she needs a place to stay."

"Yes. Gwen, where are you?" Taylor brings the phone close to his face as if he can look around the room and determine my exact coordinates.

"Taylor, you don't have to worry about it," I say through a gritted smile as I plan Kelsey's funeral.

"No, no, send me the address where you are, and I will pick you up," Taylor demands, and I hear the clink of keys as he makes his way to his front door. "And you better text it to me because I am already on my way."

Taylor hangs up the phone, and when the call is just Kelsey and me again, my eyes narrow on the screen.

"I am going to kill you."

"You are going to kill me freshly dicked down on Egyptian cotton sheets. I think that is a good death my mother will be proud of." She nods, waving her eyebrows as she teases me.

"Don't you dare kiss my children with that dirty mouth."

"I'll wash my mouth out with soap first, Mama Bear, don't you worry!" She winks, and I hang up the call with an I love you and a promise to call tomorrow to talk to the children.

I send Tay the address and he promises to be there soon. I walk around my room and pack the few items I have taken out, ready for his arrival. As I make my way out of the room and into the hallway, I see a flier for a job at a club called Johanna's. I steal the paper off the bulletin board and stand out front.

Taylor pulls up in a sleek, black Mercedes Benz and immediately hops out with a swoon-worthy smile.

"As gorgeous as ever, Gwenie." He beams, walking over to me, and his arms loop around my waist. He then brings me into a large hug and spins me around. "God, I missed you."

Taylor opens up the passenger side car door for me, closes it, and leans in through the window. "Baby, Georgetown was shit without you."

I buckle my seatbelt with an unladylike snort. "With you as valedictorian, I bet. "

Taylor laughs, putting my suitcase in the trunk and sliding into the front seat of his car. "Hey, I was just as smart as you."

"Taylor, I know the exact girth and length of your dick, and that was just from study and strip." I roll my eyes, and the engine roars with his laughter.

"I was distracted by the most beautiful girl on the East Coast." He leans over to me, his caramel eyes rolling over me with a relaxed laziness as if he has done this a million times before.

I lean in close with a small smile on my face. "You are still not fine enough to ride this ride, honey."

"Well, besides you trying to destroy my ego," he peeks at me from the corner of my eye, "why are you in the Big Apple? Did you get into NYU's law program?"

I take a deep breath. "No, I didn't, but I got in eight years ago, and Georgetown is still my first choice."

"So what's up? Are you on the run?" he jokes, and I swallow deeply, looking out the window and away from his eyes. "No shit, you're on the fucking run! From who? Not the police because I cannot lose my license because I harbored a fugitive."

"I am running away from Mason," I breathe out.

"That creep who stalked you all the time? What the hell did he do now, Gwen? I told you to get a restraining order years ago," he snaps as he pulls into a spacious, underground garage of a sleek, sixty-story tall glass tower.

"Taylor, my dad owes this man one hundred and ninety five thousand dollars, and if I didn't give it to him by yesterday morning, he was going to take me, and my kids for himself." I avoid eye contact as I look at my cuticles and bite my lower lip .

Taylor pulls the car into a parking space and turns to me with concerned eyes. "You have kids? Where are they?"

"Gio and Mia are with Kelsey in California until I can get the money or figure out a plan," I mumble. "And I know this is a lot, so if you don't want me here, then I can figure something else out."

Taylor interlocks his hand with mine and kisses my knuckles. "No, I always want you here, Gwen. Don't worry about it. You can stay here as long as you want. I got you, always have, always will."

As sunlight streamed through the blinds, I woke up to the smell of freshly baked biscuits and bacon. Taylor had left breakfast for me in the microwave before heading off to work. I couldn't help but admire his dedication and ambition as he was on track to become the youngest New York assistant attorney general.

As I ate my breakfast, I thought about my goal for the day: getting a job at Johanna's as a bartender or dancer. Despite Taylor offering me a job as his personal assistant to ease back into the legal world, I knew I needed to lay low and take jobs where Mason wouldn't easily find me. After all, there was only one Taylor McKibble that Mason knew I knew, and there were hundreds of clubs where I could dance.

As I stood outside Johanna' s imposing doors, my eyes flicked back and forth between the flier in my hand and the lavish club before me. The golden script on the glass doors spelled out its name: Johanna's . Despite the sleek exterior, I could practically feel the pulse of temptation emanating from within .

I couldn't help but wonder if it would rival the raunchiness of my hometown strip club Nikolai first saw me in or perhaps even surpass it for those with deep enough pockets to afford such luxuries. A velvet rope lined the entrance, manned by two imposing bouncers in tailored black suits, their stoic expressions adding an air of exclusivity.

Before I shift to make my way inside, my phone buzzes, and Kelsey's name pops up on the screen. I quickly answer, ready to chastise her for calling Taylor yesterday, even if she was right about his Egyptian cotton sheets.

Mia's bright hazel eyes and wild blonde curls pop into the screen, and my scowl immediately turns into a bright smile. "Hi, sweetheart! How are you?"

"Hi, Mommy! We went to the beach today! Gio and I built a big sandcastle!" Mia's voice is filled with excitement as she turns the camera to Gio, who is messing with the edges of the sandcastle to make it as perfect as possible. For a moment, a pang of guilt shoots through my chest for being so far away from them.

"That looks amazing, baby! I wish I could have been there with you."

"Mommy, when are we going to see you again? Gio and I miss you!" Mia asks, her face too close to the camera.

"I will be back with you by the next shooting star."

As I speak to Mia about her new school in California, a sleek black town car pulls up sharply to the curb. My heart pounds against my chest as a tall man in a tailored suit steps out, exuding an air of power and menace with his slick, dirty blonde hair and cold, calculating expression. His piercing blue eyes seem to sparkle with malice and intrigue, a combination that reminds me instantly of Nikolai. The guy's black suit is accented with subtle shades of gray, giving off an air of sophistication and danger. But it can't be him as my heart races at the sight of him approaching. As he locks eyes with me, a surge of fear and longing overwhelms me - it couldn't be Nik after all these years. But his narrowed gaze betrays no recognition as I watch him disappear into the back entrance of Johanna's , my mind reeling before I force myself to focus on Mia again.

"And Gio's new animals are chimpanzees. We went to the zoo, and he told me not to smile at them. I said that was rude." Mia huffs as she sticks her tongue out at Gio.

"If you smile at them, they think it is aggression. They think you are being mean," Gio says in frustration, almost yelling at Mia as if he has told her this thirty times today alone.

"Gio, no yelling at Mia. Mia, Gio is right. Chimps are different from humans; smiling isn't nice to them."

"Told you," Gio mumbles.

Mia sticks her tongue out at him before returning her attention to me. "I love you, Mommy, but it is Bluey time."

"I love you, Mia. Give each other a big hug from me, okay?" Mia runs up to Gio and tackles him in a big hug.

"Done, Mommy. Bye!" Mia hangs up, and I take a deep breath, steeling myself in front of the club.

My heart is racing with anticipation as I reach for the door handle, but the bouncer, with a silver stud in his ear and glass blue eyes, stops me swiftly with a hand stretched out in front of my chest.

"State your business," he growls .

I swing the flier up in my hand and cock an eyebrow. "I am here for the dancer position."

"You don't seem like a dancer to me," the other bouncer with a bald head snorts, crossing his hands over his chest.

"I know this doesn't look like much, but get me in a room alone, and I promise you my legs can reach my ears with the right incentive," I whisper, giving both bouncers a seductive smile while trailing my eyes up their bodies.

"I don't know, Bruce; she sounds like a stripper to me." The bouncer with the stud opens up the door for me with lust dancing across his eyes. "Oscar's office is up the stairs and on the left."

I nod, swaying my hips as I enter the club. The interior is more intimidating than the exterior, and I don't have my jaw on the floor.

Rich, dark wood and plush, velvet seating dominate the space, creating a level of luxury I have never seen before inside a strip club. The dim lighting is placed strategically to create intimate pockets of light that dance off the mirrored walls and reflect on the polished marble floors. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling, casting a soft, seductive glow that bounces off the glitter-adorned dancers' bodies as they do their warm-up routines.

I make my way toward the bar, my eyes scanning the room. The main stage, the focal point of the room, is framed by heavy, red velvet curtains and adorned with golden accents. The few dancers are already on stage, moving with an unnatural level of grace that seems almost ethereal under the soft spotlight. A girl jumps up into the air, her legs dropping into a split as she swings down the pole, and for a second, nerves run through me because that girl up there is good, treating stripping like the art form it is.

As I approach the bar, I can't help the second wave of nerves that prick over my skin as I touch the smooth dark wood that feels like a pornstar martini never spilled on it. The bartender, a tall, muscular man with dark hair, a chiseled jaw, and piercing blue eyes, looks up from polishing a glass. He lets out a low whistle, his eyes raking me leisurely.

"Well, well, what do we have here?" he says with a playful smirk. His voice is smooth, dripping with charm. He leans on top of the bar, closer to me. "Darling, you know this is a gentleman's club, right?"

I slide into one of the chairs with my own flirty smile on my lips. "Do I not look like a gentleman's wet dream?"

"I try not to be so forward with a girl when I first meet her," he says, placing the glass on the table and taking a long look at my breast peeking through my v-neck t-shirt.

"Why not?" I ask, a sly smile playing on my lips.

I cross my right leg over the other, feeling a surge of confidence rush through me. My body feels electric, every inch of my skin tingling with anticipation. It's a feeling I haven't experienced in years. A feeling I thought I would never feel again because I had kids and worked so many hours that I couldn't always be bothered to run a brush through my hair or not have some type of stain on my clothing.

As I sit here across from a hot bartender in a city where no one knows my name, I am reminded of the woman I used to be – confident, sexy, untouchable. My hair falls in loose curls, freshly brushed and styled. My white v-neck falls right below my belly button, and my jeans caress every inch of my curves. For once, everything feels perfect, and I can't help but revel in being truly good again.

"Girly, you are playing with fire." He slides me a rum and coke which works in his favor because it's my favorite drink.

"How'd you know I was a rum and coke girl?" I smile, pulling the straw to my lips and taking a light sip.

"You look like a classic with a little fun." I roll my eyes at his blinding smile and slowly turn on my stool.

"So flirty boy, what's your name?" I tease.

"My name is Hudson." He winks.

"Like the river?" I counter.

"I was named after my ability to make things wet." He winks, and I laugh because no one other than Nikolai can flirt with me like this. Never missing a beat. Surprising me. I think back to that guy I saw outside of the bar, his deep oceanic blue eyes, dirty blonde hair, and black suit. He looked like Nikolai, and my body tingles with the need to see that guy again.

"Well, if I get a job here, we can test your namesake." I wink, reaching my hand across the bar. "My name is Gwen."

"Sexy name for a sexy girl." He brings my hand to his lips as he tilts his head towards the double doors to his right. "The manager's office is through those doors next to the bar, first door on the left."

"Thank you." I smile. I start to pull my hand away, but he holds on with a little pressure.

"Do a good job, would ya? I want to see your fine ass here every day." He releases my hand, and I snort, rolling my eyes. He laughs to himself, and I shimmy through the double doors to my right.

I knock on the door with a shaky hand, my heart pounding in my chest. A rough, commanding voice booms from inside, ordering me to enter.

"What's your business?" he barks, wasting no time on small talk.

"I'm here for the dancer's job." I lean on my right hip and present my resume from my bag.

The man's piercing gaze sweeps over me, lingering on my curves and less-than-perfect figure. "You don't exactly look like a dancer," he says bluntly, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth.

Normally, I would tell him he doesn't look like much of a man, but I really need this job, so I close my mouth.

My teeth grind together as I try to force a smile, pushing my resume onto his cluttered desk. "I am sure the men that frequent this place all have different tastes in ladies, and I have experience dancing in two jobs, and despite my lack of visible muscle, I know my way around a pole, and I am really bendy, I promise."

His gaze narrows on me, a sharp edge of dismissal on the tip of his tongue, but the phone on his desk rings before he can respond. He hesitates for a moment, his eyes still locked onto mine, before finally reaching for the receiver with an exasperated sigh.

The low murmur of voices filters through the line as he answers with a curt: " Boss?"

The man's face contorts in annoyance, his eyebrows furrowing and lips tightly pressing together. But then, as if a light switch has been flipped, his expression shifts to one of surprise.

"Actually, there is a young woman here inquiring about a job," he finally admits with a nod. In the blink of an eye, he snatches up my resume from the desk and scans it quickly, muttering, "Her name is Gwendolyn." He nods a string of yeses and nos under his breath. With a skeptical look in his eye, he looks back at me and lets out a heavy sigh. "Alright, sir," he concedes reluctantly.

"You must have friends in high places. The boss wants you to start tonight."

"Or your boss must have more taste in ladies that look more like me?" I smirk, placing a hand on his desk as I lean over.

The guy gives me a once-over again and snorts. "I doubt it. Be here at seven pm sharp. Tell Hudson your size on the way out."

"Oh my god!" I squeal. "Thank you. You won't regret this."

The manager sighs, muttering, "I already do."