30 Days (Morgan Family Series Book 1) (3 page)

Two weeks.
Over two weeks and she’s still on my mind. It was fucking ridiculous. She’s just a damn stripper.
No one really.
Yet, I wanted to go back. She’d turned me down twice. I refuse to make a fool out of myself again. There’s plenty of other women out there.
Yet, I keep thinking about her.

“Mr. Morgan, is that date good for you?”

I stare at my colleague and realize I don’t even know what date he asked for.

Our client shifts in his seat. I open the calendar on my laptop and ask for the date again.

“Yes.” I answer. I ignore Jim’s glare. I stand and shake hands with Mr. Beasley and watch as he exits the conference room.

“You spaced out, Cameron. What the hell?” Jim lays into me.

“I was thinking about another case.” I lie.

“Right now, this case needs to be priority. At least Tanner Beasley needs to think so.” he scolds.

I follow him out of the conference room and down the hall towards the elevators. We’d already agreed to have lunch together to discuss the other cases we were working on. We step into the elevator and he presses the button for the first floor.

The offices for Morgan, Quinley, & Sloan are on the top three floors of the building. The building also houses a large bank, a real estate company, and an ad agency.

“We need to interview the neighbors. See if they heard anything. Make sure their stories check out with what they reported to the police.” Jim says. “We also need to get him to tell us where he was. Make sure he has an ironclad alibi.”

The doors open on the third floor and a brunette walks in. Her head is down as she fumbles in her purse.

“I know, Jim. It’s not my first case.” I mumble.

“Start interviewing the character witnesses too. The males. I’ll handle the females. They always get flustered around you.”

“They don’t. You just think they do.” “They do.” he smarts.

I cross my arms, but don’t comment back. I don’t feel like arguing with him.

I’ve been working for my father’s firm for four years and his partners still don’t trust me.

“Excuse me. Do either of you have the time? My phone died.”

I look to the woman beside me and the piercing green eyes staring back at me grow wide with recognition. Her hair isn’t red, but brown and shoulder length. Even still, I know those eyes.

“It’s one o’clock.” Jim informs her.

She gives him a mumbled thanks and tears her eyes away from mine. She stares at the elevator doors as if willing them to open. Her arms cross over her chest and she taps her fingertips on them.

I hear the ping as the doors open and Jim walks out. She takes a step forward, but I step in front of her, keeping her from exiting the elevator.

“I’ll meet you in a few minutes, Jim.” I say, pressing the “close” button. I hear him protesting as the doors shut. I turn to her and the look on her face is that of prey being caught by a predator.
That’s exactly what she is.

“Do I know you?” she asks, pretending that she doesn’t recognize me.
It’s

cute.

“Don’t be coy.” I tell her, backing her into the corner of the elevator.

“You haven’t been back.”

“I told you I couldn’t keep coming there. Have you missed me?”

She snorts at this. “I have somewhere to be.”

“So do I.”

I close the gap between us and brush my lips over hers. I move to deepen the

kiss, but the elevator doors open again. “Do you work tonight?” Her answer is a breathy “no.”

“Be here at eight o’clock.” I back away from her. “Please.”

I’m dressed and ready, pacing my apartment at 7:15. He didn’t bring up money again, but I’m sure his offer is still on the table. I overheard his conversation in the elevator and I know he’s a lawyer.
At one of the biggest firms in the city.
He doesn’t want to date a stripper.
That’s for sure.

Since Anniston’s call, I’ve applied for every decent paying job that’s available. I’ve also been turned down by every decent paying job that’s available. The only real job experience I have is Waffle House and Piggly Wiggly. I don’t really want to put my experience as a stripper down. I also don’t want to apply at places like Waffle House and Piggly Wiggly.
Besides, I checked and they’re not hiring.

I also applied for a loan and since I don’t have any credit or a credit history, I was denied. It doesn’t matter that I have a steady income. I asked how do I get a credit history if no one will give me a loan and was basically told to apply for a credit card. A credit card won’t help me now. I could never get one with that high of a credit line.

I called and told Anniston to beg for her scholarship back, but I know there’s no chance of that happening. She said her grades are getting better and I have to trust that. Now I just have to figure out a way to keep her in school.

I look at the clock and see it’s 7:30.
Now or never.
I grab my purse and walk downstairs. The cab ride doesn’t take that long and I get to the building a few minutes early. I’m nervous as I walk inside. I feel like I’m making a deal with the devil.
Even if he is sexy as hell.

The building is empty. I feel a stab of disappointment.
He played me.
Figures. I was stupid for even considering his offer anyway. I turn back towards the door.

“You came.”

I hear his shoes padding across the carpet as he comes towards me. I turn around to face him. His jacket is folded over his arm. His tie is loosened around his neck.

“Are you hungry?” he asks.

I don’t know what I was expecting, but I wasn’t expecting him to ask if I was hungry. I guess I thought he’d get straight to the point of asking for what he wanted from me.

“Sure.”

He pushes the door open and I fall into step beside him. We walk in silence to the parking garage. He opens the door to his Mercedes for me and I slip into the seat. I keep my hands in my lap, afraid to touch anything.

“So what’s your name?” he asks as he pulls into traffic.

“Memphis.”

“I don’t want your stage name. I want your real name.” he says, sternly.

“That is my real name. My stage name is Amber.” I reply. “My mom had a

thing about naming her children after the cities they were conceived in.”

“Oh.” A smirk plays at his lips.

“I’m Cameron.”

“It’s not a weird name.”

“I don’t guess so.”

I don’t know what to say to him after that. I feel out of place and out of my league. I’m starting to regret meeting him.
What was I thinking? I can’t do this.

“We’re here.” he says, pulling into a parking lot for a large apartment building.

“This isn’t a restaurant.” “No. I live here.”

Shit.
I open my door and exit the car. I should’ve known this was how it would be. I should just let him pay me, screw him, and leave. At least I’ll have the money and Anniston can stay in school.
I’ll never have to do it again. One night.

I follow him into his apartment and try not to stare too wide-eyed at how luxurious it is. It’s probably five times the size of my apartment. He has an electric fireplace in the living room, big screen television, leather furniture, and spacious kitchen. I can see on his balcony there’s a large hot tub. I’m sure the other rooms are just as nice.

“Do you like tacos?” he asks and this catches me off guard. He’s standing in his kitchen taking out the ingredients to make tacos. He’s taken off his tie and rolled his sleeves up. I like seeing this domestic side of him.
Makes him appear normal.

“That’s fine. Can I help?” I offer.

He hands me a tomato, cutting board, and a knife. Twenty minutes later, we’re eating chicken tacos and drinking beer at his breakfast bar.

“What were you doing today?” he asks.

“I was there for some personal stuff.” “Hmm.”

I watch him across the counter and I can tell when his mood shifts. He finishes his taco and takes a long sip of his beer.

“Speaking of person stuff, why don’t get straight to it?”

She shrugs and I know she’s been waiting on me to bring it up all night. I’ve been beating around the bush. It’s not my style.
There’s no point to it.

“What is it that you want?” she asks.

“I’m pretty sure you know the answer to that. I made you an offer and you declined it twice.”

“Well, I’m here now.”

“Good. $150,000.” I say. “For one month.”

Her face drops. It wasn’t what she was expecting. Surely she didn’t think I was paying that for one night? I’d be a fucking idiot to do that.

“A month?”

“It’s a generous offer.”

“It is.” she agrees. “I just, I need the money now.”

“Do you really think I would pay you that kind of money up front? I don’t think so.”

“Half now. Half at the end of the month.” she offers. “I’ll write you a check.”

“Do you really think I would accept a check? Cash only.”

My lips tug into a grin.
Only for a moment.
“I’ll arrange it. You’ll need to be available whenever I need you. I understand you work, but I want you to come here as soon as your shift is over.”

“It’ll be late.” she informs me. “Not a problem for me.” “Fine.”

“This arrangement is for my pleasure. I’ll please you too, but I don’t want you to misunderstand, this is about me. Not you. If I call you in the morning or middle of the day and tell you to come to my office, that’s what you need to do. That’s what I’m paying you for. You don’t always have to be pleased. Understood?”

“I understand. I need something else.” she says, holding her head high. “When this month is over, I need a job. I don’t care if it’s at your firm or if you help me get a job somewhere else, but I need a good job.”

“What makes you think I can help you with that?”

“You’re paying me $150,000 to fuck you for a month. You live in an apartment that looks like this. Whether it’s your money or family money, you have it. That tells me you have some pull somewhere. You can help me get a job.”

“How do you know I won’t pay you half, fuck you a month, and then never give you the other half?” I ask.

“I don’t. How do you know I won’t take half, fuck you one night and then never show again?”

“I’m a powerful man, Memphis. You don’t know what extremes I’ll go to in order to find you and make you pay for betraying me.” I let my words sink in. “Do we have an agreement?”

She bites her bottom lip and slowly extends her hand across the counter. I grip it with mine.

“We have a deal.”

She slips her hand from my grasp and stands from the barstool. I notice a tremble in her hand as she grabs her purse from the counter.

“Where are you going?”

“Home. Somehow I doubt you have $75,000 lying around your apartment.

Our agreement doesn’t officially start until I get my money.”

“I’ll take you home.”

“No, you won’t.” she says, firmly. “Because there’s no reason for you to know where I live. I’ll give you my phone number and you can call me when you have the money.”

I unlock my phone and hand it to her. She keys her number in and sits my phone back on the counter.

“You can expect a call from me tomorrow, Memphis.”

“Looking forward to it, Cameron.”

I know he told me to expect a call from him, but I didn’t really expect him to call. I thought the whole night would just fade away like a bad dream. Cameron whoever-he-was would forget about me and I would figure out another way to pay Anniston’s tuition.

Yet, I’m staring at my phone at a number I don’t recognize.
It could be him.
Or it could be one of the jobs I applied for that hasn’t called me back yet. I can’t ignore it on the off chance that it is. I answer.

“I have your money.” His voice is smooth and confident.
Sure of himself.
I’m positive I didn’t sound that way when I answered. “Are you working tonight?”

“I work every night except Sundays and Mondays.” “Come to my place when you’re done.”

He doesn’t say please or goodbye. I guess the niceties are over now that I’ve agreed. He doesn’t have to say please. This is about his pleasure.
He made that clear.

I call Anniston and leave a message letting her know that I’ve found a way to pay for her tuition. I don’t go into details. I know she’ll be asking me later, but this is something I won’t be sharing with her.
I won’t be sharing this with anyone.

When I arrive at Cameron’s apartment building, it’s almost two a.m. It was a slow night at Ecstasy, but I did get to do two dances since Leah called in sick. That helped.
Every little bit helps.

I gaze up at the apartment building, but don’t linger outside long. When I walk inside, I approach the front desk. I give him my name and ignore the strange look he gives me in return.

“You can go on up.” he says and motions towards the elevators.

I pace inside the elevator as it takes me directly to Cameron’s apartment. I know when the doors open, he’ll be there. Fear and anxiety wash over me.
I shouldn’t do this.
I can figure out another way.
There has to be another way.

The elevator doors open and Cameron is standing there.
Shirtless.
A pair of jeans hang low on his hips exposing the v-line that I love so much on men.

He holds his hand out and I swallow hard before placing my hand in his. I pray he doesn’t feel it shaking. He doesn’t say a word if he does.

He leads me to the kitchen and hands me an envelope. I peek inside it and see more one-hundred dollar bills than I’ve ever seen in my life.

“It’s all there.” he comments.

I run my thumb over them just to ensure they’re all hundreds and that they look real. I shove the envelope into my purse and sit it on the counter.

“Come with me.”

I do as he says even though my mind is screaming for me to give him the money back and call this whole thing off.
It’s not too late!

We walk into his bedroom. His bed is large with a headboard that looks almost rustic, wooden with individual slats. The dark, brown comforter looks soft and inviting. My eyes don’t wander far past the bed. It’s like it’s calling me to it, knowing the dirty deeds that are going to be committed there.