Shocked, I spun around, forgetting my tear-stained cheeks. “What? Why?”
“Because you're not going back there.”
“I can't just—”
His eyes hardened. But behind them, something almost like fear flickered. “Because it exposed you to low-lifes and creeps without even paying you enough to live on. You can do better.”
Patronizing prick. I squared my jaw right back at him. “Who says I can? You don't know my life story. In two years of job hunting, that place was the best I ever found. It worked for us. Where else would let me stay at home with Maple during the day?”
“You can do better,” he repeated simply.
Taking a deep breath, I balled up every ounce of wounded pride I'd ever felt and threw it in his face. “Not everyone can afford to turn up their noses at perfectly good work.”
That was kind of a low blow. I didn't give a shit. But apparently, neither did Grey. He just shook his head, still holding out the phone.
Was he not even going to listen to me anymore? Blood pounding in my ears, I hissed so Maple wouldn't hear, “And what the hell would I do if I did quit? You think unemployment is better than stripping? Safer? More dignified?”
“I'll help you,” he insisted, his voice rising a little.
I shook my head savagely. “No way. I might be okay with hiding out here for a little while, but we won't mooch off of you. I'll buy our own food and diapers and pay a fair share of the rest. And I'll need a job to do that.”
For a long moment, Grey stared at me, searching my eyes. Could he sense my desperation? He had to understand why independence was so important to me. I'd already lost everything else in my life; if I lost this battle, too, I wouldn't even know who I was anymore.
Finally, he sighed again, yielding ground. “Fine. I understand. I'll work something out.”
I cocked my head, eyes narrowing slightly. “Like what?” I wasn't about to let him decide some crazy scheme for me.
He raked his fingers through his short black hair with an exasperated noise. “Fin, please. Do you trust me?”
I considered for a minute. After the daring rescue he'd just pulled off, I really did. In fact, I had to admit...I might trust him more than anyone else on Earth. Which caused a fresh round of tears to fill my eyes.
At my reluctant nod, he thrust out the phone again. “Good. Then call the club.”
I took the phone and dialed. It rang a few times. Then, over a thumping bass line, a familiar brisk voice answered, “Hello, this is the Dolly House. How can I help you?”
I licked my suddenly dry lips. “Ginger?”
A moment of stony silence. I would have thought the line had gone dead if it weren't for the music blaring in the background. Maple chose that moment to wriggle out from under the bed, full of curiosity. Grey immediately scooped her up and distracted her with quiet murmurs.
When Ginger spoke again, her chirpy customer-service tone had vanished into genuine warmth. “Finley? Oh my goodness. I can't tell you what a relief it is to hear from you. When you missed all your shifts—you never miss work, dear—and then that cute soldier came around looking for you, I was so worried. What happened? Was it Brant?”
“I...” The last thing I wanted to do was relive the past week. “Y-yes, I had some trouble with Brant. But it's all over now.”
“Oh my goodness,” she gasped again. “What a horrible little man. I should have known he'd do something crazy someday. I just thought you were his favorite, but the way he always hovered around you wasn't healthy—”
Unable to wait any longer, I broke in. “I'm sorry, Ginger. I'd rather not get into the whole story right now.” Possibly not ever. “The reason I called is...I'm quitting.”
Silence again. Then a rush of static as Ginger sighed into the receiver. “I see. Well, dear, the girls and I will certainly miss you. Especially Layla.”
Something oddly like nostalgia twinged in my chest. I'd miss all of them right back. Working at the club hadn't always been a barrel of laughs—to put it mildly—but I had met some great people there.
“But I'm glad you've moved on to greener pastures,” Ginger continued. “Nobody wants to stay in a place like this forever.” She gave a little cackle. “Except for me, of course. You girls are like family to me. But that's exactly my point. Children are meant to grow up and leave you.”
I found myself smiling even as I blinked back tears. “Thank you, Ginger. You've always been so wonderful.”
“It's my job, dear. Take care now.”
Swallowing hard, I hit the red END icon and handed the phone back to Grey. “I'm done.”
He nodded soberly. “It'll be okay, I promise.”
Maple looked back and forth between us, sensing the negative mood, and started squirming for freedom. Grey let her down onto the bed. As I stroked Maple's soft, fine hair, Grey dialed another number. I didn't think too hard about what he was doing until he said, “Good afternoon, Mr. Barton. I was wondering...were we still looking for an administrative assistant?”
My eyes went wide. “A what now?” I spluttered. “Grey, I'm not trained for—”
The infuriating asshole actually held up his hand to shush me. “Great. That's perfect. And she can work from home, right?” He paused. “That should be fine. Yes, Mrs. Sutton can start tomorrow. Thank you.” He hung up and raised his eyebrows at me. “There, see? What'd I tell you? You're Redstone's newest employee. You'll have to attend our Friday meetings, but I figured with your new salary, you can afford a babysitter for a couple hours once a week. And you can use my laptop until you can buy your own.”