Pool Girl: A Forbidden Slow Burn Romance Read online

  “Damn, Cullen!” I swear under my breath.

  I jump to the ground, determined to stop Gemma. Maybe if I apologized…maybe if I explained things to her…

  I stop short and think. What will she think if she sees me running towards her? She’ll see the monster that tried to seduce her…the beast that took advantage of her innocence and naivety.

  I decided against going after her.

  Frowning, I settle back on the edge of the dance floor. I look around. The chairs, sofa, stools, tables—they’ve all been set. The lighting is in the process of being completed. The bar is all set up. What remains is some music and some wine and, of course, some girls. We’ve already started marketing. The grand opening should be in roughly twenty days.

  My partners will soon all be in town, moving into their new homes. They already know about Gemma. That I’ll be starting her training today. Gemma and her willingness to participate in House of Stars is the linchpin of this entire operation.

  Plus, if the town finds out that I want to make sweet, little Gemma do something she doesn’t want to do, they’ll burn the hotel down before we even begin.

  I realize that my predicament is worse than I thought. It’s beyond my forbidden feelings for Gemma. It’s also about the future of my business. It’s about my future.

  If this whole thing fails because I wasn’t sensible enough to keep away from the merchandise, then not only will I be disgraced publicly and lose all of my friends, I’ll also be relegated to live in the poverty that I so loathe—that I so fear.

  “Mr. Roberts?” calls a voice at the door.

  I look up to see the director of the renovation team. He’s a tall, brawny man with an intelligent face. He’s wearing a worker’s coverall and a hardhat. In his arm are rolled-up floor plans for the club.

  I groan, knowing that this is about to be a lengthy discussion. And I’m in no mood to talk about business right now.

  “Yes?” I reply without meeting his eyes. It’s unfair, I know, to make him deal with the aftermath of my shit. But hey, I am paying him, aren’t I?

  “We’re about sixty percent done,” he says, walking towards me. “We just need to make decisions on the final floor and the parking lot. We decided to wait until we’ve done this amount of work because it—”

  “I know what I said,” I cut him off. “Let’s go see what you’ve done so far. Give me a tour, and then we’ll make the decision.”

  I leaped to my feet and walked towards him. We meet halfway, where he turns around and leads me out.

  We start on the ground floor. He shows me the renovated reception, electrical and structural systems, and the staff spaces. He shows me the renovated kitchen and then the rooms on the second floor.

  Everything looks and smells new. Even the lights, the fixtures, the computers—like we just built the hotel.

  I know I should be excited about this whole thing. My dreams are finally coming to pass. But I can’t seem to get my spirit up…not when Gemma has run out on me.

  When the director is done showing me their fantastic work, we retreat to the outside. I lead him across the busy road to my Range Rover. There, we spread the floor plans on the hood. Using his flashlight and the lights from the hotel, I show him what I want done on the third floor.

  We spend the next thirty minutes making final decisions for the hotel, including rebranding it on the outside and putting HOUSE OF STARS somewhere. I also make a last-minute decision to build a pool on the roof of the hotel. I don’t know if it’s so that I can have Gemma over—because I suspect she’s going back to her old job after her last encounter with me—but if it is, who’s to say?

  When we’re done, the director shakes my hand. “We’ll be all done and ready to have your grand opening on time.”

  “That’s all I ask for,” I say to him distractedly.

  He’s about to go when he pauses. “There was some girl who ran out of the building pretty shaken up. I’m not sure what happened. You wouldn’t know about that, would you?”

  I nod. “She’s one of my staff,” I say with levity and nonchalance. I don’t want him picking up any vibe. “She had an incident and bolted. She’ll be back to work soon.” I don’t know if that’s true, but I have to hope.

  The man looks satisfied by my explanation. He smiles, says, “Good night, Mr. Roberts,” and crosses the road.

  I get into my Range Rover and drive home. I decide that I have to be practical about this. I have to approach this with cunning. She needs money. Maybe I can throw more money at her. Perhaps I’ll modify the contract, so I don’t have to train her. Maybe I’ll get Zinzy to train her.

  Whatever the case, I have to have her back. I want another chance with her. As I come to this conclusion, I realize I don’t just want her for House of Stars. I want her for myself. And this realization scares me to shit.

  Chapter Thirteen: Gemma

  I thought it would be different coming back here. I thought immersing myself in something old would take my mind off things…off him. It’s not working.

  I’m sitting in the small reception area outside of Mr. Monroe’s office. It was Taylor’s idea for me to go back to my old job if I don’t want to continue as Cullen’s dancer.

  I’m wearing jeans and a white blouse. I can feel my pores oozing sweat. The swirling fan overhead does nothing to tame the heat. Instead, it stirs up hot air, irritating me more than anything. As I wait to talk to my old boss, I can hear Mr. Monroe and Jack having a heated conversation on the other side of the door. It’s certainly not about me since they don’t know I’ve come to ask for my job back.

  I don’t even know why I’m doing this. It makes no sense to me. I should be running back to Cullen to apologize for freaking out.

  But I can’t. I’m afraid. I don’t want to be hurt again.

  I think about the contract I signed. I know I can’t technically just up and leave Cullen like that. The contract was pretty binding. It states that I have to work for him for three years and that I can’t work for anyone else as a dancer. If I’m going to leave at all, I have to make a formal request to him blah, blah, blah. Right now, I don’t care about all that. I don’t even really care about the job and the contract. I care that a man who I like and who I am attracted to, a man I could learn to love—something I’m not even bold enough to tell myself—may finally be out of my reach. All because I didn’t (couldn’t?) let go of my past.

  The door opens. Jack and Mr. Monroe both step outside. They don’t look too happy with each other. They both see me and surprise appears on their faces.

  “Gemma,” Jack says.

  I stand to my feet.

  “What are you doing here?” asks Mr. Monroe. I know he doesn’t mean it like that, but his voice comes off as aggressive. Maybe it has something to do with what he has been discussing with his eldest son.

  It’s time for me to make my big pitch, so he accepts me back into the fold. For a moment, I’m at a loss for words. What do I tell him? What excuses will I make?

  I know very well that I can’t tell him what transpired between Cullen and me. He’d think less of me. He might even take it up against Cullen. I can’t deny that James thinks of himself my guardian—in the most detached sort of way.

  So what do I say?

  “Well?” James says. “I haven’t got all day.”

  Everyone’s staring at me. Jack. James. It’s making it kind of hard to concentrate on crafting a believable story. You see, I was hoping for a private audience with James. I was hoping to privately explain my predicament, maybe chip in a few lies here and there to cover up my involvement with Cullen. He might suspect what happened, maybe he even knows of my dip in the clients' pool?

  James Monroe arches an eyebrow at me, urging me forward. When I’m still silent, he turns to walk back into his office.

  Panicked, I blurt, “I came for my old job back!”

  He turns back to me, a passive look on his face. Jack, on the other hand, is surprised, the hint of a smile pi
nching his lips.

  “Did you, now?” he asks.

  I nod. I make a silent prayer that they leave it there. Don’t ask me why I pray. Just welcome me back and let that be it. But today God’s not answering my prayers because…

  “Why?” This from Jack.

  “Why?” I whisper, my mind racing. Why the fuck did I leave Cullen? I scream in my mind.

  “Because…” My mind is blank. I’m beginning to lose control of my breathing. “Because…I…”

  “What happened between you and Cullen Roberts?” Jack asks. “What happened up in that House of Stars?”

  He must have heard of the new club and not liked it because of the way he says House of Stars like he’d rather bite off his tongue than pronounce the words.

  Moment of truth. I can’t tell them that we danced and started making out on the dance floor. That would make me seem like the wrong kind of girl, besides it’s none of their fucking business!

  I straighten my back and meet Jack’s gaze. And what do I tell him?

  “He didn’t do anything,” I say, my voice faltering.

  They don’t seem convinced. I clear my throat. I firm up my face, and I say, “He did nothing.”

  I’m speaking the truth. Cullen did nothing wrong. I screwed this up. I messed up my chance at a great life… a great guy…okay, great man.

  So why not go back to him?

  I sigh. That’s the question, isn’t it?

  “Then why do you want to come back here?” James says. “We pay peanuts compared to what he promised you. What’s this really about, Gemma?”

  I’m about to protest again, when James stops me with a gesture and continues, “Don’t be afraid to tell us. We want to help. I want to help.”

  “If it’s all the same to you, sir, right now the help I need is to have my old job back.”

  James considers me for a while. He sighs. “You have it. But you can’t resume immediately. Think of it as a working leave. You have seven days to reconsider. If by then you still want your old job back, then we will officially accept you back.”

  I want to protest, but he shushes me.

  “This might just be an emotional outburst,” James continues. “Sometimes when our first day at work is tough, we react in the most surprising of ways. Do as I say. You’ll thank me later.”

  Apparently, that’s it, because he retreats into his office and shuts his door.

  Jack pats me on the back and leaves the reception.

  Bob and I are left.

  “You heard him,” he says. “Seven days.”

  I leave the office. As I enter the small corridor that leads outside, I’m tempted to enter the workroom. I can hear snippets of conversation. I can hear Michael’s voice. He seems happy about something. He’s laughing.

  The normalcy of it all begins to soothe my heart. I head in that direction. But before I can leave, a shadow falls on me. Someone has stepped into the open doorway, blocking the sunlight. I look, and my heart skips a beat.

  It’s Cullen.

  I take a step backward, my heart lurching violently in my chest. A multitude of emotions come crashing over me. A scream begins to develop in my throat.

  Cullen notices my face. He raises his hands up in surrender. “I come in peace, Gemma,” he says, sincerely. “I’m not here to hurt you. I’m here to apologize.”

  He waits a second.

  His statement has the desired effect. My body relaxes a little. I eye Cullen one more time, remaining where I am. He’s so sexy.

  He hasn’t taken a step further, remaining in the doorway. I’m still instantly aroused as I remember the dance floor. The feel of his powerful hands on my waist. The feeling of his erection against my ass. I swallow hard, forcing the thoughts out of my mind. Stay focused!

  “Can we talk outside?” he asks.

  I agree and follow him outside. It’s scorching hot, so we stand in the shade of a nearby tree.

  “First of all, I wanted to apologize for my behavior yesterday,” he begins, sounding very sincere and contrite. “It was unprofessional. I had only one job, and that was to train you. But I took undue advantage of you. I’m so sorry. I hope you can forgive me…”

  As he speaks, my heart begins to ache. Primarily because I know it’s not his fault. I don’t want him to apologize. I want him to fight me on this.

  The way he sounds, it’s as if he’s not going to even touch me again. And that scares me. He can’t leave me feeling this way.

  Cullen pauses for me to speak. I know this is when I say it’s not his fault. What happened last night was consensual…and that I enjoyed it.

  I don’t say a word.

  He continues, “I know I can be intense. I guess I got carried away.” He pauses, searching for the right words. “I…I find you…special.”

  Special? That’s it?

  “So, it’s difficult to remain objective,” he ends up saying. “I want you to come back. I can’t do this without you. I need you. We need you. We don’t want to see you go. I can have Zinzy train you. So, what do you say?”

  “Okay,” I say. “I’ll come back. But only on one condition.”

  Cullen smiles sideways at me, unsure of what that may mean. “Okay, what is it?”

  Unsure how to begin, I say, “Technically, I’m an adult. And….you’re an adult.” Looking at him I’m feeling the heat rise deep inside me.

  I continue, “What I really want is,” I hesitate a moment trying to gather my thoughts in the presence of this hunk. I can smell his musky scent, the longer we stand out in this heat. It’s turning me on. “What I really want is to have more control.”

  Cullen bends at the waist, coughing hard several times. He’s got a sly smile on his face as he straightens. I don’t know why. Maybe I do. But I don’t want to go there in my mind for fear I would totally give in to the animalistic passion I’m feeling about this guy right now.

  “My, uh, contract.” I stammer. “It should be for one year instead of three. And I will decide how I dance. If I don’t bring ‘em in, then you can fire me and the contracts off. Oh, and one more thing.”

  He cocks his head and wholeheartedly listens to my request.

  “I want you to hire my friend Taylor.”

  Cullen looks surprised but happy, which makes me surprised, and happy.

  “No ballet or jazz and that’s a deal young lady!” He sticks his perfectly groomed hand out for me to shake. Instead, I lightly take his hand and twirl under it as if we’re dancing.

  I say lightly as I stare into his eyes, “Deal! Mr. Roberts.”

  For a few minutes we talk about random things. We talk about how far he’s gotten with the renovations. He tells me that the grand opening is in three weeks, that he’s found a few other potential dancers, but that I’m going to be the star performer.

  “It’s going to be huge,” he says with conviction. “You’re going to be huge. I’m glad you’re back.”

  But I don’t care about being huge? I only care about him. Screw social convention. I care about him, and I hate that he seems to be done with me. He’s turned into a gentleman.

  “My friends and I are having a mini-celebration tonight,” he says finally. “I’d love for you to come and meet them.”

  I don’t reply, hesitating.

  He sees my hesitation. “I promise I’ll have you back early. Plus, I’ll be a perfect gentleman.”

  That’s the problem. I don’t want you to be a gentleman! Don’t you get it? I want to scream this in his face. But I can’t. It’s as though I’m paralyzed. I only nod.

  “Perfect,” he says. “Can I pick you up at eight, then?”

  Sensing a ray of hope, because that statement was like a date. Like a gentleman asking a lady on a date. “Eight would be fine,” I say.

  “And then tomorrow morning, we begin preparing again, for the grand opening,” he says, beaming. “We’re going to crush this.”

  “Yes,” I reply, smiling at his enthusiasm. “We are.”

 
* * *

  Cullen picks me up that evening and takes me to a nearby bar, which is surprisingly pleasant and not at all the seedy scene I’d been expecting when he’d said it was a bar. I don’t frequent bars. In my experience, they’re little more than places for drunk men, brawls, and headaches. But being here with Cullen, meeting his friends—every one of them nice and friendly, and gorgeous—has me really looking forward to my future. Who wouldn’t want to be surrounded by beautiful people all day?

  The chairs and tables are arranged around a dance floor. A soft, slow song that matches the dim lighting is playing in the background, and a few couples are on the dance floor. Initially, we joined Cullen’s friends, but as the night moved on, Cullen and I have a table to ourselves in the corner. We can see the rest of the guys still trying to hit on women across the room.

  As promised, Cullen has been the perfect gentleman all evening. Opening doors for me, guiding me with a hand on my back, pulling out my chair for me, smiling at me in a warm and friendly way. Every now and then, I thought I caught a glint of passion in his eyes, but it always seemed to be gone in the next moment.

  For perhaps the first time since I’ve met him, I’m not thinking about how his body would feel against mine—at least, that’s not the only thing on my mind. Mainly, I’m thinking about how good it feels to get to know him.

  In the space of an hour, he’s told me a lot about himself. The death of his parents, his time on the streets, getting into the adult film industry, and everything he’s done since then.

  Unexpectedly, I take the information well. It dawns on me that this is what James and the good doctor were referring to when they warned me about working for Cullen. They thought that he’d take advantage of me. How shallow and judgmental could they be? But they were right, and I giggle to myself.

  Cullen isn’t a predator, and his past in porn doesn’t make him one. I don’t feel any disgust or even judgment about Cullen’s past. The way I see it, he’s a man that survived some of life’s harshest blows. And in some ways, I empathize with his decision to claw his way out of the gutter the only way he knew how.