Frozen

Chapter 1)

"Brianna, what time is it?" Bentley asked, rubbing his eyes with little fists. I set him a little smile and held out my arms. He easily came forward and his head collapsed on my shoulder.

"Too late for you to be up, little monster," I said, smoothing down his spiky blonde hair, a total contrast with my own straight black locks. We had the same green eyes, though.

"You're up," he pointed out.

"I'm older than you," I countered scooping him up in my arms and carrying him to my room. I dumped him in his bed, making him bounce and giggle and I smiled in response.

"Now," I said, leaning down and kissing his forehead, "go to sleep, okay?"

He sighed as if he was done with the whole 'sleep' thing but he nodded and I saw his eyelids droop. I chuckled and pulled the blankets up around him.

"Night, monster," I whispered.

"Night, Bri," he whispered back.

I went back to the table where the bills were still sitting there. They hadn't moved, they hadn't magically disappeared. They were still just...sitting there. As if they weren't tearing apart my life.

College, rent, insurance, gas, nanny...something had to go.

I couldn't get another job, I was already working two, and I barely saw Bentley as it was. But those two weren't going to cut it.

I buried my head in my hands and took several deep breaths. I got up and did what I always did when I needed to make a decision. I went to Bentley's room and I looked at him. His dark blonde eyelashes fanned over his cheeks, his hair crazy and spread out over his pillows. His little fists clenched under his face.

I would keep this apartment for him. I would pay off the bills, and finish college for him. Because he deserved better than what I got.

I grabbed my keys and went out, locking the door behind me and making sure I had my phone in case Bentley woke up. I drove slowly along the streets of St. Petersburg, Florida, looking for something, anything.

Then I stopped. I shook my head and almost drove away because...well, there was no way I could...

I parked the car and got out, looking up at the big blinking neon pink sign.

Jesus, there was no way. But I went inside anyway. The place was booming, throbbing with a beat. There were scantily clad girls everywhere, along with salivating men. Well dressed men, men in rags, dirty men, clean men, smiling men, frowning men, men who looked excited, men who looked downright guilty. But they all had one thing in common. They were all armed with big, fat, wallets that they were more than ready to empty. A nail trailed down my bare arm and I jerked away to look at a pretty girl. Beautiful, really. She had long red hair and big, blue eyes and freckles.

"Can I help you, sweetie?" she asked, biting her lower lip.

I took in a deep breath and leaned in to her.

"Can I ask you something?" I practically whispered.

One eyebrow twitched but she nodded, that saccharine sweet smile never leaving her face.

"How much do you make?" I asked.

Her smile dropped a little and then she did something odd. She took a step back and gave me a long once over. She checked my legs, my ass, my tits, my stomach, and landed on my face. When she was done there was a little smirk dancing on her lips.

"You looking to join the business?" she asked, her tone not unfriendly.

I shrugged jerkily.

"I need the money," I said in a low voice. Her eyes flashed with sympathy and she nodded. She hooked her elbow into mine and started leading me somewhere, her head tilted into mine so I could hear her over the music.

"This place doesn't pay you much more than shit, but that's not where the real money is from. The cash you're working for is from the customers. If you're good, you can be raking in anywhere from a fifty to five hundred a night, and that's Monday through Friday, honey. Friday and Saturday night, whoo, don't even get me started. Last Friday, I made a little over twelve hundred."

I'm sure my eyes were comically wide. Even a hundred a night would be a step up from my pay right now, but five? Shit.

She continued to practically drag me until we reached a door.

"This is the boss's office. Don't be put off by the smell," she whispered before knocking several times. The door opened and we came face to face with perfection.

His eyes were a bright, cornflower blue ringed in a deeper blue and fringed with sandy lashes. His hair was longish and straight, strands hanging into his eyes, and messy in a way that gives the impression he just got out of bed. His cheekbones were ridiculously defined, along with his jaw, and paired with those eyes he could almost pass as...pretty. Except, there was no denying the masculine, rugged, very manly vibes coming off of him. His suit was obviously tailored, because it fit his broad shoulders and tapered waist very, very nicely.

He was the most good looking man I had ever seen in my entire life. And he looked pissed.

"Barney," the girl next to me cooed, running a long fingernail down his tie. His upper lip curled a little in disgust and shrugged her hand off.

"Mr. Westchester, please," a man who was very much the polar opposite of Barney Westchester pleaded. The man was pudgy, unkempt, and his ill fitting white shirt and khaki pants were as far from a tailored suit as you can get.

Barney's eyes had still been on the girl next to me when the man spoke, but when he moved them and his head as if to turn to respond, he got stuck.

On me.

He was frozen and his eyes changed. They narrowed. Then they moved down, and gave me a once over. Similar to the girl's in that it was thorough, but so. Very. Different. I could literally feel the heat from his baby blues as they took in every detail of me. When his eyes returned to my face, his eyes were no longer cold and his lips were no longer curled with disgust.

"Barney Westchester, I don't believe we've met," he drawled. My heart stopped then started beating double time at the deep southern accent.

"Brianna Freemont," I breathed, taking his proffered hand and shaking it as firmly as I could with the strength left in my body before I moved to release it. He, however, did not. He just held on. He studied my expression for a minute and seemed to see something he didn't like because he frowned.

"You're not looking for a job here, are you?" he asked, his voice going lower, rougher.

"Actually, I, uh, was-"

"You're hired," the pudgy man said, smiling, his eyes trained on my breasts. The blonde squealed and pulled me into a big hug. Barney neither smiled nor squealed nor released my hand.

"Come work for me, instead," he said, his eyes boring into mine.

"Excuse me?" I choked out.

The pudgy man cursed and sent Barney a look.

"Fuck, Mr. Westchester, please don't," he started, but stopped when Barney cut him off with a look.

"Work for me," he repeated.

"Um, where do you...I mean-"

He saved me from my sputtering and semi-grinned.

"I own the nightclub a few blocks from here. We happen to have an opening in our VIP section. The tips are good, the pay is better, and the bonus is the best. Work for me."

I don't know how, and I really don't know why, but I found myself agreeing. I found myself giving this beautiful man my number, I found myself taking his, and I found myself saying that I would be at the night club called "Insanity" come Monday morning.