Chapter 003: The Star And Her Admirer

CHAPTER THREE: THE STAR AND HER ADMIRER

ZOEY

———

I should have protested. Should have insisted they were mistaken and lied that I couldn’t dance to save my life.

But as a heartbroken woman who would do anything to forget her misery, I let recklessness get the best of me.

Plus, with that hottie watching me silently from that corner of the room like I was dessert, I would be a fool to turn this opportunity down.

More cheers erupted, encouraging me on.

Smiling softly, I strutted towards the stage. I wrapped my hand around the cold metal,

all the while maintaining eye contact with the hottie. From up here, I finally got a more proper look at him.

He was dressed in a black suit, no tie, shirt undone just enough to expose the sharp cut of his collarbone and a hint of tattoo ink peaking beneath.

And his face?

Expensive jawline, thick brows, and the kind of dead-serious gaze that could turn your knees into soup.

The space in between my thighs pulsed, wet and hungry for him.

The crowd went wild as I spun slowly, one leg curled along the pole, my hair trailing behind me. Hottie’s eyes darkened.

Smirking, I slid down slowly, my thighs squeezing the pole, back arching, dress riding up even higher, showing more skin.

I could hear the crowd screaming. They threw money onto the stage. But my attention was hooked on him. The way his jaw twitched as he leaned forward in his velvet seat.

I was performing for him alone. And he knew this.

I continued to dance provocatively with the pole, letting myself run wild for the first time in my life. Even if it would only last for tonight.

And through it all, the stranger watched, never taking his eyes off me for a second. I wondered what dirty thoughts could be running through his mind right now.

Let’s take this further.

Slowly, I got on my knees and crawled towards the edge of the stage—towards him. From up close, I got an even clearer view of his face.

And fuck, did he look so powerful and devilishly handsome.

Dark eyes, an expensive aura that screamed danger, charm and sex. Like the kind of guy who breaks hearts without even trying.

Good thing I don’t have a heart anymore.

But holy fuck, I wanted to be wrecked by him. To be fucked so badly that I’d forget my name.

Leaning forward, I dipped low so that my cleavage spilled before him. I bit my lip, chuckling softly as he pulled out a thick wad of notes. Hundreds. He slid them into my cleavage, his fingers brushing against my skin lightly.

I clenched my thighs, my core throbbing, then tilted my head at him.

“You always this generous with strangers?”

“I’m only generous when something fascinates me.”

I almost moan at the sound of his voice. His voice was deep, smooth. Like butter melting on pancakes.

Eyes locked to his dark ones, I slid a finger along the neckline of my dress, testing the edge of the cash he’d tucked in.

“And do I fascinate you, Mister?” I asked in my most seductive whisper.

He leaned closer now, brushing his thumb gently against my chin. My whole body melted under his touch.

“Yes.” He answered. “And I take that I fascinate you too?”

I nodded, feeling my panties completely soaked with arousal.

God, help me.

“Then, spend a moment with me.” He whispered, “I have a private suite in the back.”

I paused. Every part of me screamed that this was a bad idea, but the tequila in my bloodstream? Treacherous horny thing.

I sucked in a deep breath. His eyes never left mine.

Why was I even stalling? Pretty sure that Chuck—that complete shit of a human being—would be spending this night of our divorce, buried deep inside Daisy.

Fuck it. I’ll make this bad decision now and regret it later. Just this once in my life, let me be a bad girl.

“Just one moment?” I finally broke my silence.

He smiled. Slow, dangerous, amused. My heat tripled.

“Just one.”

~~~~~~~

The next morning, I woke up to the most rip-roaring headache. My fingers flew up to massage my temple, doing nothing to ease the ache.

“Jesus Christ…” I groaned, managing to sit up on the bed.

“Well, better tell Jesus to save your ass. You’ve got a hangover, plus you resume work today. I can smell the disaster from here.” Camille’s voice came beside me, and I shifted my eyes to see her all dressed up, getting her makeup done in front of the vanity mirror.

This crazy human who had stood me up last night.

Camille must have noticed my glare, as she spun on her chair, facing me.

“C‘mon. Don’t give me that look.” She whined, a small pout forming on her lips. “Double emergencies came up at the hospital. I couldn’t just leave.”

“You signed me up for a ‘special performance’ at the club, Camille!” I shot daggers at her.

“I just wanted you to do something wild and out of character for once, Zoey.” She countered. “You’ve lived most of your life stuck up as a ‘good wife’ to a man who doesn’t even deserve you. You deserve to live wild for once!”

I raked my fingers through my air, letting out a resigned groan, then proceeded to drag myself out of bed. It’ll be a waste of time arguing with her.

“How did last night go, anyway?” She returned to the mirror, applying her lip gloss. “I was surprised when you showed up drunk and wasted at my doorstep, when I was about to go pick you up.”

I frowned, barely recalling a thing. “I came here myself?”

She nodded. “Yep.”

My brain short-circuited as I struggled to remember the events of last night. But I could only recollect pieces of last night.

Pole dancing like some wild chick, laughing my heart out, drinks upon drinks, crying and cursing at Chuck…

I shook my head, getting rid of the embarrassing memories.

Camille laughed.

“Can’t remember a thing, can you? Poor thing. You were like a total junkie last night.”

“All your fault.” I threw a pillow at her and she chortled.

Despite my pounding headache, I dragged my feet to the bathroom, took a quick shower, and dressed in a blazer and long pencil skirt. My hair was tied in a neat ponytail.

Camille gave me a once-over look as I fixed my hair in front of the mirror. “Seriously? You’re still going to keep dressing like a church girl? Whatever happened to post-divorce glow up?”

“Maybe some other time, Camille. I’m running late.” I replied dryly, giving my hair one final brush.

Camille signed in resignation.

Once we were done dressing, Camille gave me a lift to the studio, which was only a few minutes away from the hospital where she worked.

In the car, we made plans to have me finally move into my new apartment in Laurel Canyon. We agreed she’d contact the moving company to move my stuff to the new apartment today.

“Sure you’re gonna be fine on your own?” Worry was evident on Camille’s face as I alighted from her car once we arrived at the company premises.

“I’ll be fine, Camille,” I assured, smacking a peck on her cheek from her side of the window. “You worry too much.”

Even though the worried look didn’t exactly disappear from her face, she nodded.

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Once she had driven off, I hurried inside the building.

As I passed by the lobby, I noticed how the chatter suddenly quietened, as though a ghost had just entered. And that ghost was me.

All of a sudden, I could no longer find the little courage I thought I had to face everyone. My legs felt like jelly, and I fought the urge to turn back that moment and bolt out of the room, never returning. But I couldn’t let Chuck and Daisy win against me twice.

“Mrs. Gilbert. Oops, my bad. I meant Miss. Anderson. A minute, please?”

The unmistakable voice of Chuck’s secretary, Kelsey, stopped me in my tracks. A couple of people snorted at her ‘mistake’.

Exhaling to ease my nerves, I turned to face her. She had a triumphant look on her face, her arms crossed against her chest. Almost like she had won a lottery. And that lottery was the news of my divorce that had been circulating.

Besides Daisy, I had always known Kelsey wanted to get under Chuck’s pants, too. Just, she wasn’t his type.

“The Studio Head is here.” She said, “And since you were absent at the meeting, you’d better head to his office now if you know what’s good for you.”

My stomach plummeted at the mention of the Studio Head. Wasn’t he supposed to show up by next week?

“Thank you for the heads up, Kelsey.” I lined my lips a fake smile, then turned, heading for my cramped desk near the copy room that I shared with two other PAs.

Setting my handbag on the desk, I headed straight to the upper floor where the executive offices were.

A minute later, I arrived at the mahogany door of the office and knocked on it softly.

Inside, I overheard two men laughing. One sounded eerily familiar.

“Door’s unlocked. Come in.”

My fingers froze on the doorknob, and my chin clenched. That voice… It belonged to Chuck.

I wasn’t surprised though. Although none of us had ever seen the Studio Head until today, it wasn’t news that he was best friends with Chuck. Which was why he made Chuck the Director.

I almost turned back, but fought the urge again. It would be pathetic to allow Chuck to control my life even though he wasn’t in my world anymore.

Drawing a deep breath, I finally turned the doorknob and stepped into the office.

Chuck’s laughter died upon seeing me. But he was the least of my problems.

Because the moment my eyes landed on the Studio Head, my whole body froze.

All the memories of last night finally came rushing into my head.

That night of dancing, booze… and hot sex.

With him. Christian Gallo. Our Studio Head.

The same man who had fucked me to the heavens last night.