Enemies to Lovers

CHAPTER 8

𝗠𝗢𝗟𝗟𝗬

"Hello, can I please get a donut quickly? I'm in a hurry to get to work," I said, glancing at my phone.

I'd already woken up late, and I needed to hurry. I forgot to put alaram. And I wasn't used to waking up early to go to work. Because I never worked. I regret it now, though. If I had worked, I would've gained money, left the country, and studied. But that's fine as long as that's what god wants.

"Sure." Why did this voice sound familiar? But from where? Maybe I'm just imagining things. Forget it, Molly, focus now.

"Here you go." He quickly handed me the donuts.

"Thanks," I said, paid, and left.

Those eyes, that voice, that face. They seem familiar. I don't know, maybe I'm just imagining things. I drove to the strip club, feeling a bit nervous. It's my first time working this job, and my first job ever.

"Oh hi, Molly, how are you?" Antony greeted me warmly. I appreciated his friendly demeanor with customers and coworkers.

"Hey, thank you. I'm fine. Shall we start?" I asked awkwardly, unsure of what to say. He nodded and handed me an apron. I put it on and started working.

Work at the club went smoothly. Everyone was nice and kind, even though it was my first day. I felt a bit nervous about the night shift.

"Molly, could you serve that table over there? I'm busy," one of the workers said.

I couldn't remember their names since it was my first day. It was just me and two others. I nodded, made a note in my notebook, and headed over.

What was I seeing? Four men sat at the table, all incredibly attractive. They all had muscles, but one stood out to me. He was tall, really tall, with big muscles and wavy, curly blonde hair.

"Shit," I muttered. I forgot about them. "What would you like to order?" I handed them the menu, feeling my cheeks flush. His scent filled the room, and he looked good.

"Why so red, cutie?" He teased, raising his eyebrows. I didn't respond. That was cringey, I'm not going to lie.

"Wine for all, and would you guys like Alfredo?" he added.

They all nodded, and I did, too. I took note of their order and left. I pushed those thoughts aside and focused on getting their order. After delivering their food and wine, I returned with a smile.

"Thanks," they all said. It felt awkward to be the only woman at the table. My day was going well; it was three o'clock, and it was time for my break.

I went to eat and then hit the gym. After working out, I went back home and cooked oven-fried Cajun popcorn chicken with creamy honey mustard sauce. They looked delicious. I'm pretty good at cooking; my grandmother taught me since I was sixteen.

Before I knew it, it was time for my shower. But just before eleven, my mouth was still full of food. I quickly dressed and went to the gym.

As I walked in, I felt everyone's eyes on me, as if I were naked or something. I ignored them, focused on my workout, and did some stretching to relax.

I was in the middle of doing squats when suddenly I felt hands on my ass, squeezing it. Shocked, I dropped the dumbbell.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? Are you out of your mind?" I yelled at the old man. Why do older men always try something with me? Why are they attracted to me? I need someone to explain.

"I just thought you needed some help, beautiful. Forgive me," he said, eyeing me inappropriately. I felt my anger rising. I grabbed a small dumbbell and hit him in the stomach. He fell to the floor, groaning in pain.

"What? Is something wrong? Get back to work. People love drama," I said to the shocked onlookers. Greta rushed over to me, concerned. The old man lay on the floor, blood streaming from his face. I think his eye turned blue or purple; I don't know, and I don't care. He deserved it.

"What happened to him, oh my god?" Greta asked, horrified.

"He was harassing me, so I did what's best. Don't be mad at me, Greta, but he deserved it," I said, shrugging. I then addressed everyone, "And if any of you try anything like he did, I promise to hit you harder. Okay?" They all looked at each other for a moment before nodding.

"It's okay, just don't do that again, Lord. Please take him to the hospital, and let's not say anything," Greta said to me, shaking her head.

He got what he deserved. He was harassing me. I'm not going to stay silent about that. After that, the rest of my time at the gym went smoothly.

● ● ●

It's time to go. I should take my outfit with me. It's showtime.

I'm nervous.

I grabbed my bag and drove back to the strip club. God, please tell me I'm doing the right thing, even though I know I'm not. I need the money to survive life.

Let the fun begin.