Poles Apart (SAMPLE ONLY!)

Chapter 1

The group of middle-aged, desperate men all rushed toward the stage as ‘Precious’ stepped into the spotlight in her little black, corseted burlesque outfit. She started to shake her booty to the beat of the music, hypnotising the dirty men with ease.

Hoisting the heavy tray above my head with both hands, I wove through the crowd, trying not to spill the five beers and two whisky shots. I couldn’t afford to spill anything; I had a lot to pay out for this month. Whatever I dropped, spilt, smashed, or even had stolen from my tray was docked from my wages, and let me tell you, drinks were freaking expensive in this place. The order I was carrying probably came close to fifty quid.

‘Precious’ dropped to her knees, arse in the air, and started whipping her head around, flicking her hair. In his excitement, one guy surged forward and crashed into me, sending me sprawling to the floor, drinks smashing all over the place. I closed my eyes and yelped as the cheap carpet burnt my hands where I’d put them out to protect myself.

People jeered around me, laughing and clapping at my stupidity.

Cringing, I pushed myself up onto my hands and knees, my cheeks flaming with embarrassment. This was a typical moment for me: a sexy girl on stage shaking her thing, and what do I do? I fall and make a complete idiot of myself. I had a sudden urge to pat myself on the back and award myself the medal for being the biggest loser.

Oh, you are so awesome, Emma!

Not one person offered to help me up. The balding, beady-eyed man who’d bumped me had skulked off into the crowd – probably so he didn’t have to pay for damages – leaving me to clear up the mess. I sniffed, swallowing my sob as I grabbed the tray and started picking up the bigger bits of broken glass from the floor. Crestfallen, I silently wondered how I was going to pay for the drinks. I needed to pay for my little brother’s school trip this month, £365 to go to freaking Scotland for some weeklong field trip.

Stupid, stupid Emma!

Sometimes, I hated my life. I was almost nineteen and had been responsible for my fifteen-year-old brother, Rory, for the past year. As if my life wasn’t already hard enough without having to look after him, too, but in truth, I wouldn’t be able to get through the day without his help, so I couldn’t exactly complain. Rory was a godsend, just a freaking expensive godsend.

I reached out for a smashed bottle, tossing the glass onto the tray angrily. Just as my hand closed around another piece, someone grabbed my waist, hoisting me up. I squeaked in surprise, panic rising in my chest as I frantically looked around for a bouncer to come and help me; they usually milled around to take care of the girls. The warm hands lifted me to my feet, and a hard chest pressed against my back. Sweet, hot breath blew down my neck, brushing across my almost-exposed chest in my stupid uniform.

“Tut tut, Em. You should be more careful,” the voice whispered in my ear, sending a little shiver through my body.

Carson Matthews.

My face grew hotter as his hand brushed across my stomach, straightening my top for me before he rested his hands on my hips, still standing dangerously close to my back. I could barely breathe. He always caused this reaction in me; he had since the first time I laid eyes on him when I was sixteen. That was on my first shift here at the club, a night which changed my life forever, yet it was just another Saturday night for him.

I gulped, willing my voice not to betray me. Turning to look at him over my shoulder, I attempted to look seductive even though I had just fallen to the floor like a moron. His pale-blue eyes locked on mine. The sexy little smirk on his lips made my heart flutter erratically.