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up. He was scowling at me darkly. “Sometimes I wonder how the hell you even ended up here,” he muttered to himself, but I still heard him.
    The words caused a pang of something close to embarrassment to flash through my center. Here wasn’t where I thought I’d be. Not in a million years.
    “Insulting me isn’t going to make me want the job,” I snapped.
    “It was a compliment,” he snapped back.
    I laughed.
    “Fuck,” he muttered and scrubbed a hand over his face. “You know this place inside and out. You’ve been here longer than any of the other girls, you know how to handle the crowd, the bar, and I know damn well there’s a big brain beneath all that,” he said, motioning toward my body.
    A big brain? Did he seriously just say that?
    “I don’t hear your customers complaining about all this,” I said, motioning to myself.
    He slapped his palm on the desktop, making a loud smacking sound. I jumped like a weenie. “Dammit, Roxie,” he rumbled. “Quit acting like I’m insulting you.”
    I stared at him in stony silence.
    He blew out a breath. “I meant you’re the whole package. Looks and brains.”
    I wanted to tease him further. A million comebacks danced on my tongue. But I held them back. His cheekbones were turning pink, and I found it extremely charming that he was trying so hard to compliment me yet still failing so miserably.
    “Thank you, Adam,” I said, muffling a smile.
    He grunted.
    “Can I still dance?” I asked. “If I take your offer?”
    “No,” he said darkly.
    It caught me off guard. I didn’t expect such a stark denial.
    “Well, why not?”
    “Because you’re going to be busy managing.”
    I sighed. As much as I loved the idea of not stripping anymore and taking on a better job here, I couldn’t. “I can’t.”
    “What the hell do you mean you can’t?” he bellowed.
    “I need the money.” No other profession made me as much as stripping. It seemed a little ironic that the thing I wanted away from was the thing I had to hold on to just to get away.
    I think I just confused myself.
    “The job comes with a raise. A good one,” Adam said, breaking into my confusion.
    A raise was enticing; it made it even harder to say no. Even still, it likely didn’t pay as much as I would make on the pole.
    I started to shake my head, but a stubborn look crossed his face and he held up his hand. “You’re fired.”
    “What!” I yelled and burst out of my chair. The towel and brush fell onto the tile floor with a clatter. “You can’t fire me!”
    “The hell I can’t!” he argued, also jumping to his feet.
    “Oh yeah!” I said. “On what grounds?”
    “You’re a pain in my ass!” he yelled.
    “Well, you’re a pain in mine!” I yelled back. I gave a huff and crossed my arms. “You can’t fire me because I’m a pain in the ass.” I resisted the urge to stick out my tongue.
    “How about drinking on the job?” he said quietly.
    Shit. He saw.
    I sank down in the chair. “I need this job, Adam.”
    “Fucking A,” Adam swore. His cursing was laced with regret, and he pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “I’m trying to give you a better job.”
    “You think I like stripping?” I asked. “You think I don’t wanna take your offer?”
    “Then why don’t you?” He came around the desk again to stare down at me.
    “It’s my ticket out.”
    “Your ticket out of what?” he asked. I could tell he was slightly surprised.
    “Forget it,” I muttered and stood.
    Adam snatched my hand and pulled me around, into his personal space. He sat on the edge of his desk and pulled me between his knees.
    I could feel the heat of his thighs against my hips.
    His personal space was very… personal . Very delicious.
    “Your ticket out of what, Rox?” he asked again.
    I looked up into his molten eyes. “Out of this life. To something better. To college.”
    He rubbed his thumb across my knuckles as he listened to my words. “College,