Emily was between lap dances, wiping sweat and body glitter off her neck with a towel, as she approached the bar. "Water," she requested from the bartender.

"Thirsty?" Derek asked, coming up behind her. He wasn't normally so lacking in tact, but there was something about being surrounded by beautiful women without clothes on that made his brain turn to mush.

"Wow, you should be a detective," she replied.

He laughed sheepishly. "Touche." He shrugged. "So, listen, about that day when I sort of awkwardly hit on you a little?"

She raised a brow. "That was you hitting on me? Wow...your game really needs improving."

"Possibly. I just wanted to say I'm sorry if I made you feel uncomfortable. That wasn't my intention." He paused, cleared his throat.

It took Emily a few moments to realize why he was acting so awkward. Then, it dawned on her that he was trying hard not to stare at her breasts. "You might as well have a look," she said, "Everyone else has seen them."

He shook his head. "That's really not... I mean, I don't..." He shook his head again.

"Did you have a point to this conversation?" she interrupted. "Because I've got to get back out there – if my tits aren't jiggling, the coins aren't jingling..."

He didn't seem to know how to respond to that. "Anyway, I was thinking that maybe if you've got time one day, we could get a coffee or something?" he stuttered.

She sighed. "I told you, I don't date bouncers."

"It wouldn't be a date..." he insisted.

She held up one hand to stop his speech. "It's not personal, I just don't mix my life here with my life outside the club."

Emily rummaged in her purse in search of her car keys. One thing about having a young kid meant that her purse functioned as a small black hole into which junk disappeared only to reappear at the most inopportune moments. For instance, she had no idea where her keys were, but she did just close her hand around a somehow still-damp lollipop.

Groaning and wiping her hand on her jeans, she was startled when she bumped into a solid body. Stumbling back a few steps, she hissed, "Shit!" in her surprise. "I'm sorry, I wasn't..."

She didn't get the chance to finish her apology because the other person interrupted, asking, "You're Ruby, right?"

She frowned, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up. She attempted a smile, though, afraid of angering the interloper. "I'm sorry, I don't think I know you..."

The man laughed, a little awkwardly. "Probably not," he admitted, "I'm a really big fan of yours, though. I'm Cooper." He held out his hand to shake hers. "Sometimes I leave you notes with the money?"

"Oh, right!" she effused, pretending to have any memory of him at all, even as she ignored the proffered handshake. Truthfully, if it wasn't a valid form of currency, it went straight in the trash. Afterall, she couldn't pay rent with admiring fan letters. "Um, what are you doing here?" she asked, trying to be polite. "The club closed a half hour ago..."

If she wasn't mistaken, his cheeks flushed red with embarrassment. "I... I was hoping to meet you," he confessed. He reached out again, this time in an attempt to caress her arm.

She took a step back, putting herself out of reach. "Why didn't you say hello while I was working?" she asked. She cocked her head, pouted her lips a little. "We could have talked all night..." she simpered, "Gotten to know each other real well." She was hoping that if she made him think she was interested, he wouldn't get angry and lash out.

He shrugged. "It's too loud to talk in there. I was hoping maybe we could get a drink together? Somewhere a little easier to have a proper conversation."

"Look, you seem really sweet, but it's late and I'm exhausted. I really just want to go home and sleep," she said, politely declining.

"Another day, maybe?" he persisted, apparently not having any intention of giving up. "On your day off? You work every other day, right?"

She really didn't like how familiar he seemed with her schedule, but more than that, she didn't like how he seemed to think he was entitled to her time and affections just because he'd stuck a couple bucks in her thong. "Where does your wife think you are right now?" she inquired then, a burst of anger burning hot in her chest. She always paid attention to who was wearing a wedding ring – it was second nature to her by now. Every man in the club was trying to escape something and usually that something was a wife.

"At my mother's," he confessed. He didn't seem the least bit embarrassed about his lie, like he wasn't doing anything wrong coming here night after night to watch her gyrate her half-naked body then probably jack off in his car to the image.

She just rolled her eyes. She was running out of patience and politeness, but she knew this was a precarious situation, having heard far too many stories of strippers getting knives pulled on them on their way to their cars.

"Everything alright here?" a voice echoed through the dark parking lot as Derek emerged from the doorway, having been watching the interaction, fearing the worst.

"Actually..." Emily started.

At the same moment, Cooper insisted, "Everything's fine. I was just about to leave."

Neither Emily nor Derek said anything as they watched him get into his car and drive off.

"You good?" Derek asked, the first to break the silence, studying her as if expecting some sign that she was about to fall apart.

"Perfect," she insisted. But she wasn't moving, standing rooted to the spot as if petrified.

As if reading her hesitation, Derek offered, "Do you mind if I walk you to your car? For my own peace of mind... I just don't want it on my conscience if you were to get hurt."

She shrugged, pretending she didn't care, even if she let out a shaky sigh of relief at the offer. "You probably think I'm a bitch," she said quietly as they crossed the parking lot together. "I always treat you like shit, even though you've done nothing to deserve it."

He didn't respond. He didn't have to.

"It's just..." She sighed. "I've learned the hard way that being nice in this business is a liability. I can't afford to give people the chance to take advantage of me."

He nodded slowly, thoughtfully. "Well, I hope you'll forgive me if I continue to try to be your friend," he said at length. "Mama didn't raise a quitter. She did raise a fool, though."

She laughed softly, in spite of herself.

And damn if Derek didn't want to hear that sound every day for the rest of his life.