I'm in Love with a Stripper

almostfrances

Rating: M

Disclaimer: I do not own Twilight, nor am I profiting from this story.

Author's Notes: Thank you to everyone that has read, reviewed, favorited, or followed this story! It's so rewarding :] You all make my day a little brighter. Anyway, I hope that you are all enjoying the ride so far. Please follow me on Twitter - frankienopants - for story updates and other shiz. Please review, it lets me know how I'm doing and possibly makes me writer faster... LOL. On with the madness, shall we?

Chapter Four

Oh she made us drinks, to drink

We drunk 'em, got drunk

And then I think she thinks I'm cool

She gave me a wink, I winked back

And then I think that, we hit it off something proper like...

I like the bartender

(Oh if you're lookin' for me)

I'm at the bar with her

"Bartender," T-Pain ft. Akon

I'm still fuming, the next day, when I wake up around noon and roll out of bed. The night was a bust - I only made a few hundred bucks, after tipping out the bartender, the DJ, and Laurent, and it all went to the rent. I pulled on my fluffy Hello Kitty robe and a pair of slippers, yawning my way into the kitchen. Chipper as ever, Alice is making pancakes and bacon, and there is already a pot of coffee waiting for me. Why would I want to date someone when I had Alice to take care of me?

"Good morning, sunshine," she says, sing-song. "The birds are chirping, its... Overcast." She giggles and spins around our small kitchen. We have a tiny two bedroom apartment, but its in a family neighborhood. Coming home at three AM is not a worry here, not with our crazy ex-Marine neighbor Aro, who threatens every stranger that passes by his block. It's expensive in the city, and that's part of why we have the jobs we do. That, and that we both had student debt to pay off.

"Whats got you in such a good mood?" I grumble, flopping into my seat at our two-person table. Immediately, I take a long sip of my coffee and relax.

"I got a number last night. And it wasn't a sleazy guy with a beer gut or some weird foot fetish," Alice gushes. Her dark eyes are sparkling and there is more life in her eyes than I have seen in a while... Warning lights go off in my brain. Alice is the kind of girl who easily falls in love, and gets her hopes up way too high. I have a feeling that this is going to be bad - or will be bad, in a few weeks, when he stops calling and texting. Leaving me, once again, to pick up the pieces.

"Alice..."

"Come on, Bella," she says, slipping into her seat opposite of me. "He's so sweet, and I really think that it could turn into something." Her eyes are pleading.

"Alice, how many times have you said that before? Literally?" I ask, and her shoulders sag in defeat. "I'm just looking out for you. I don't want you to get hurt."

"I know, I know," she says, gazing forlornly at her plate of breakfast foods. She had even made a smiley face on her pancakes, with blue berry eyes and a whipped cream smile. Poor baby.

I hate to see her like this, and I feel my resistance crumbling. "Maybe he will be different. What can one date hurt, right?"

"Oh, Bella, you'll see," she says, bouncing in her seat with a megawatt grin. "Promise! He's really different. His name is Jasper, and he's like a genius. At least, thats what his friend told me."

"Jasper, the guy that punched the other guy in the face? Rosalie's brother?" I ask, surprised. I mean yeah, the compliment last night was endearing and everything, but I definitely did not expect her to get his phone number and consider an actual date. Let alone get this excited about it.

"The very one," she sang, giggling. "He's so cute. OhmiGOD, Bella! SO CUTE!"

"Ok, I get it," I say, attempting to calm her down. Getting her all amped up in the afternoon only means she'll crash a few hours into our shifts, and a sleepy, grumpy bartending Alice is never a good thing. Just then, the electronic beep of her cell goes off, and she scrambles to find it in the apartment. When she retrieves it, I hear a loud, nearly ear-piercing squeal.

"ITS HIM!" she cries, and I lift my fork and begin digging into my pancakes. It's going to be a long day.


"Whats the bee in your bonnet?" Jasper asks, breezing into my living room like he owned the place. Actually, I own the place. The entire building. I just happen to reside in the penthouse, with a gorgeous view overlooking the city, with a private balcony and helipad like a cherry on top of my real estate cake.

"What?" I ask, truly flummoxed.

"You look like someone "got your goat," or whatever," Jasper says, flopping onto the plush leather couch across from the one I was sprawled on. The big flat screen on the wall is playing some football game, one that I am not the least bit interested in. No, my mind keeps wandering back to the dark haired vixen from Eclipse, Miss Mora, and her sweet little berry that has me in such a tizzy.

Obviously, I'm in a tizzy. If I'm using the word tizzy. It's such a Jasper-ism.

"No, just recovering from last night," I tell him. He nods.

"Hangovers can be a beast," he agrees. "I took two Asprin and a glass of water before I fell asleep last night - even though you aren't supposed to take drugs that thin your blood while drinking, because the alcohol thins your blood already."

"Thanks, Dr. Hale," I snark, rolling my eyes. "Did you need something?"

"Well, actually," he starts, and I glance over to find him running his palms anxiously over the tops of his thighs. This nervous habit developed sometime after sixth grade, when he held hands with this blonde bitch Jane, who then told him he had sweaty hands and that she never wanted to hold hands with him again. Poor guy.

"Spit it out," I say, gesturing for him to go on.

"The thing is, I know that I just broke up with Charlotte. But that girl last night was amazing." He fidgets and won't meet my gaze.

"Uh huh."

"And I want to go back and see her. But I don't want to go alone, because going alone to a strip club seems even worse than going to a bar by oneself, and I'm already weird enough on my own without seeming like some sleazy sex addict alcoholic."

"You aren't weird, Jasper," I say instantly, hating when he gets like this. Jasper might be socially awkward and yeah, he's a fucking weirdo, but he's been my best friend since as long as I can remember. Life isn't easy for him, and I only feel worse when he puts himself down.

"Edward, I'm weird. I know this." He grins at me. "But I also really like this girl."

"You don't even know her," I reply. This is what happens with Jasper. He gets an idea in his mind, and he can't let it go. It's a compulsion. Sometimes, like when I came up with a mass social media network to connect students and friends and musicians and families and models and everyone in the world, it works in my favor. All I had to do was tell Jasper my idea, and he developed the website within a few weeks in his dorm room freshmen year. Emmett is our promoter, passing out flyers, mass emails, and flirting with girls to get them to join. Even Oprah had a Facespace page, and that was one of my biggest accomplishments. With the money from the site, which was still raking in and wouldn't stop any time soon, I went into the real estate business. I'm making a killing.

"No, but when I gave her my number last night, she texted me right away," Jasper says. "And I like promptness. She seems so..."

"Perky? Annoying?" I ask, but I'm just teasing. I can tell by the dumb moony look on Jasper's face that there will be no dissuasion on this matter; he's a goner. Fine, fine. I guess I can try to make a better impression on the beautiful and difficult Mora, if I'm going to be there anyway.

"I promise, we won't be there long. And I'll pay," he adds, as though this is a tipping point. "I just want to pop in and say hello and make sure she remembers me."

"You're texting her, remember?"

"Right, but I mean, remembers my face. She says its symmetrical too," he admits, turning pink to the roots of his hair.

"Aw, puppy love." I chuckle and Jasper slaps his knees, standing up. "I'm going to invite Emmett, too."

"Hey, did you ever talk to your sister?" I ask as he's on his way to the elevator.

"Shit!" he exclaims. "I got so distracted by my hormones that I completely forgot about my sinful sister and her public nudity."

"That's one way to put it," I murmur under my breath.

"I'll have to call her... Jeez, what a mess," he adds, shaking his blonde head before pushing the call button for the elevator. It arrives quickly and slides open smoothly, and he steps in. "Ten o'clock, Masen!" he calls, before the doors shut on him.

I sigh and reach for the remote, flipping around and pondering my situation. I'm a twenty-seven year old billionaire, with plenty of girls on deck waiting for my call. I have money to blow, Swiss bank accounts and investments. I'm on the Forbes top twenty list, two years running, and I'm a handsome motherfucker. There is no way that I can't get that girl on a date with me - it just might take some finessing.

With a devious grin, I settle back into my comfortable sofa and fold my hands on my chest. I'd come up with something - and she would be unable to refuse me.


"Jasper's here!" Alice whisper/squeals into my ear as I'm passing by the bar. She yanks me so hard that I nearly topple out of my shoes, and I shoot her a death glare. "Sorry, but look! He's here!" She points to the booth that they had been in last night, and I immediately notice Jessica crawling all over Edward. Her neon pink bikini glows under the black lights, and he seems to be enjoying the dance.

"Swell," I deadpan. I rake a hand through my hair, which I straightened earlier into a glossy, silky sheen. I'm wearing my favorite money-making dress - it's blood-red, my favorite color to wear, and skin-tight with a short skirt and plunging neckline. My black leather stiletto boots went up over my knees, and it was easier to climb the pole with the boots between my flesh and the metal. Plus, it didn't bruise my pale skin up.

"Go talk to him, make sure he gets your seal of approval," she insists, pushing me towards them.

"Don't you have drinks to make?" I snap, and she rolls her eyes as I stalk over.

"Hey, Mora," says Jasper, standing immediately and shaking my hand. I bite back my grin and laugh, as I can tell that he's extremely nervous and hoping to make a good impression. He's wearing nice dark jeans, a button down, blue shirt with a black blazer over it. He's even wearing a fedora, and somehow it looks cute on him - not nerdy in the least. "Here, have a seat with us." He pulls up a chair and I thank him politely.

"Hows it going?" Emmett asks, slugging back his beer. He raises his mug and I'm sure, since Alice is watching like a hawk, that she's busy filling him another.

"Pretty good," I say, trying to ignore the soft moans coming from Jessica as she grinds on Edward's lap. I'm doing anything not to look his way, not to be enveloped in his green gaze again. I'm not a prostitute, I can't be bought, and that he even entertained the idea makes me want to vomit, makes my skin crawl. I'm filling up with anger again, and I take a few steadying breaths.

"Here ya go," Alice says, handing Emmett his beer, smiling sweetly at him in the process. "And here's a drink for you, Be-Mora." Her eyes go wide as saucers, and before I can murder her she's tottering back to the bar faster than the wind. She has slipped up with my fake name a few times, and it never fails to make me angry.

Is the universe conspiring to piss me off, or what? I inwardly shake my head and resist the urge to yank Jessica off of Edward by her stupid clip in extensions. Wait, why would I do that? She deserves him. And his grimy, buy his way... ways...

I take a big gulp of my drink, hardly tasting it, and force on a tight smile.

"Mora, can't you see I'm working here?" Jessica asks, pausing her gyrations to glare at me. Her breasts are pushed up and spilling out of her bikini top, and her skin is a golden tan that my skin will never achieve.

"The more the merrier," Edward says, patting her ass. I want to slap his hand off of her rump, but why? Ugh, my body is confusing. I finish my drink in another gulp, and stand up.

"Well guys, its been real," I say, before turning on my heel and disappearing. I hate to think it, but fuck this budding relationship between Alice and Jasper. If they want to be together, so be it. If they want to fuck each other up emotionally, which will inevitably happen, then go for it. But I will not be a part of it. I slam my empty cocktail glass on the bar, glaring daggers, and Alice intuitively knows that I need another. She fills it without a word, and I head back stage to touch up my make-up and slip into my stage outfit. I'm feeling frisky, so I opt for the sluttiest, most porn star lingerie I have. A black corset that pushed my breasts up high and made them look larger than they actually are, paired with ruffle boyshorts a size to small, so that my ass cheeks hung out. With my boots and red lipstick, I look like sin on heels. That's the point, right?