Not surprisingly, Brock spent most of Sunday recovering from his hangover. Not that he was the one to tell me this. No, it was Julien who texted me from Brock's phone to say that he didn't think we'd be going out tonight. I should've been angry that my second day off wasn't going to be spent with my boyfriend, but I was actually relieved. I needed some time to stop being mad at him for being such a jerk. Apparently a good night's sleep hadn't helped with that.

Instead of moping around the house doing nothing, I decided to swap shifts with one of the girls who was always complaining that she never had a weekend off. That way I'd be available Monday night if Brock was feeling better. Even if I was still pissed, I still wanted to see him, sucker for punishment that I apparently was.

I sighed. I needed to know how he handled instances where he behaved like an ass. Would he apologize or just act like it never happened? I liked the guy, but not enough to put up with this every time he drank.

Hopefully, work would give me the chance to get my mind off of Brock and get some perspective. I hadn't counted on being haunted by the memory of seeing Brock and Julien there, and the 'private dance' that had followed. By the time I got home, I was more frustrated than I had been before and my head was pounding from frustration and worry. I took some medicine and let it knock me out until early Monday afternoon.

My phone ringing woke me up and it took longer than usual to push out of the fog and answer it. “Hello?” My voice was still thick with sleep.

“Hey, babe.”

I blinked a couple times and pushed myself up so I was sitting. “Hi, Brock.” I kept my tone flat, letting him know that I wasn't happy with him.

“About the other night.” He immediately started in on it. “I don't really remember anything, but Julien says I was an ass and he's usually right about things like that.”

“You were and he is.” I felt myself softening. He sounded like he was going to apologize.

“I am so sorry.”

I didn't respond. I wasn't sure I should let him off that easily considering all the things he'd said.

“Forgive me?”

I sighed but was still at a loss for words.

“I really need you to forgive me. I don’t know why I drank so much, it was stupid and selfish. I wasted precious time being with you.”

The iciness inside melted just a little bit. “All right. I accept your apology. And I won't ask that you don't do it again because I know that's not going to happen.”

“Piper–”

I interrupted, “But can you at least try not to do it again during this visit. I'd like to spend time with my boyfriend. The nice guy who asked me to be his date to a wedding. Not the ass-hat from last night.”

Brock laughed and I could hear the relief in his voice. “Promise. No more ass-hat boyfriend.”

The knot in my stomach eased and I laughed along with him. So he was a crude drunk. I could handle that. It wasn't like he'd been acting that way stone sober.

“Let me make it up to you,” he said. “And Julien, since I was pretty bad to you both. We're going out tonight.” He quickly added, “To eat. Not to drink and gamble. We're going to go to Alize.”

Okay, that was impressive. Alize was one of most expensive restaurants in Vegas. Girls like me didn't get in there unless we were being paid. That wasn't cynical. It was the truth. The style of dress alone would be more than most people could afford.

“Do you want to come to the hotel or do you want us to come pick you up?”

I liked that he was giving me the option. He hadn't seen my apartment yet and he was giving me the chance to decide if I wanted him to see it or not. At the moment, I was leaning towards not. I may have forgiven him for his previous behavior, but it had made me realize how much I still didn't know about Brock. Things were moving way too fast.

“I'll meet you at the restaurant,” I said. I could sense that he was confused, but he agreed and didn't press the matter. We chatted for a few more minutes before saying our good-byes. I inhaled deeply and then let it out slowly. That had gone better than I'd hoped. I hadn't realized how much I'd believed Anastascia's claim about the type of guy Brock was. Now I knew she was wrong, at least I hoped she was. The fact that he'd apologized and was trying to make things up to me and Julien was certainly positive evidence.

Now, I just needed to focus on having fun tonight, enjoying our evening and, for the love of god, trying to decide what I was going to wear. I panicked momentarily, once again feeling like a fish out of water. Alize was a rich man’s restaurant, with dress codes and certain expectations.

When you're on my kind of income, wardrobe choices for dressy events are rather limited. I didn't want to wear the dress from the wedding or what I'd worn to meet Brock's parents since he'd already seen both of those outfits before. I wasn't sure he'd remember, or even care, but I wanted something different. That left the dress Anastascia had bought me for the reunion.

I knew I looked good in it, but it brought back memories of Reed. Was that really something I wanted to have in my head while I was out with Brock? Then again, I reasoned, what better way to no longer associate the outfit with Reed than to wear it again. Give it a fresh start so to speak.

My decision made, I headed off to the kitchen to grab something to eat before I started getting ready. I didn't just want to look okay tonight. I wanted to look so good that Brock would go out of his way to make sure he never acted like that again.

It took me most of the afternoon to prepare. Waxing is time-consuming and not very fun, especially when you have to do it yourself because you're too poor to have it done by a professional. But every rip was worth it.

Then there was all the other enjoyable stuff that men completely take for granted like eyebrow tweezing and taking care of finger and toe nails. I was usually pretty meticulous thanks to my job, but I went above and beyond for tonight. So much so that when I stepped out of the taxi at Alize's, I was rewarded with two completely stunned expressions.

“I'll take that as a compliment.” I smiled at them both as I wrapped my arm around Brock's.

“Where did you get that dress?” Brock finally asked.

“My friend bought it for me for my high school reunion.”

Brock laughed. “I'll bet Rebecca about had a fit when she saw you in it. You're gorgeous.”

I flushed, pleased with his compliment. Julien didn't say anything but a glance told me he was thinking along the same lines. The three of us went inside and I could feel eyes on us as we went. For once, I didn't feel like the attention was focused on everyone around me, but rather that I was at the center of it, flanked by two gorgeous guys in expensive, well-cut suits.

Alize was absolutely amazing. The view of the city through the massive glass walls was like nothing I'd ever seen before. Even the view from the boys' penthouse wasn't this impressive.

Brock ordered wine for all of us and, for a moment I was worried. Then he grinned at me.

“I'll take it easy, I promise. No repeats.”

True to his word, he didn't drink more than a glass through the whole meal. And what a meal it was. I'd never really considered myself a fan of French food, but every single thing we ordered was scrumptious. I almost didn't have room for dessert but when Brock insisted that we all try the chocolate truffles, I had to agree.

As we waited for the final course to be delivered, the topic of conversation shifted to Britni's wedding, which Julien had missed. I squirmed uncomfortably in my seat as I waited for Brock to share about my involvement in Reed's bachelor party. Instead, he glossed over that part of the night and made it sound like the two of us had met during one of his visits to The Diamond Club. It wasn't like Julien didn't know I was a stripper, but I didn't want Brock to talk about the bachelor party and how I passed out and ended up staying the night. I still didn’t remember all that happened that evening but it wasn’t something I wanted to relive.

“So everything's going well for Britni and Reed?” I hoped my voice didn't sound as falsely bright to the guys as it did to me.

Brock nodded as the waiter set the truffles in the center of the table. He picked one up and held it out to me and I suppressed the urge to roll my eyes. Wasn't your boyfriend feeding you supposed to be all sweet and romantic or something? I'd never really gotten that. For me, it always sounded awkward, and now it felt that way too.

My eyebrows shot up as the chocolate melted on my tongue and I moaned, leaning to savor the flavor before sipping from my water. Brock gave me the rest of the piece which was as mouthwatering as the first before answering my question.

“Yeah, they're doing great. A little on edge because of the whole heir clause thing, but that's not really a surprise.” Brock popped a truffle into his mouth as Julien helped himself to a second one.

“The what clause?” I asked. I didn't really want to hear more about their farce of a marriage, but I was curious.

“The heir clause.” Brock glanced at Julien who looked just as confused as I was. “Wow, I thought everyone knew about this.”

“Why don't fill us in?” Julien asked.

“Well, you know how there was this business deal that went along the marriage?” Brock looked from me to Julien. I took my cue from Julien and feigned ignorance. I didn't want Brock wondering where I'd heard it if Julien didn't know. “Anyway, it's a common thing. Families bound in marriage also make business contracts tying everyone together.” He shook his head. “Don't ask me. I don't get it.” He ate another truffle. “So, Britni and Reed's marriage also joined some of the Stirlings assets to my family's assets.”

“Still not getting the whole 'heir clause,'” Julien said.

Unfortunately, I was beginning to think that I did understand.

“Basically, the clause states that they need to have at least one pregnancy in their first year of marriage, and a baby within three.”

“Are you shitting me?”

I was glad Julien said something that drew Brock's attention because I was having a difficult time keeping my expression blank. A forced pregnancy, I’d never heard of such thing. Not in the twenty-first century anyway.

Brock shrugged. “The Stirlings put it in actually. Something about making sure their name was carried on, since Rebecca's a girl and obviously will take her husband's name. I guess Mr. Stirling is the last one in his family line or something like that.”

“So Britni and Reed...”

“Fucking like bunnies would be my guess.” Brock made a face.

I really hadn't wanted to hear that, and I certainly didn't want to be thinking about Reed and Britni having sex. I reached for my wine, tipped it up and drained the glass. Brock didn't notice, but Julien gave me a puzzled look. I didn't mind. I was more concerned with getting those images out of my head.

Reed's body moving over hers.

Her riding him.

His face between her legs.

Her name on his lips when he came.

“Piper?” Brock touched my arm.

“Hm?”

“You okay?”

I nodded and forced a smile. “Fine. I was just thinking about how delicious the food was.” I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

He grinned. “And the night's just getting started.” He slapped Julien on the back. “We need to get my friend here some action. Let's hit a club.”

“Please tell me you mean a dance club,” Julien said.

“Hell no.” Brock laughed. “One of the best things about Vegas is their strip joints.” He glanced at me. “We'll head to Ruby's.”

Ruby's was one of the high-end strip clubs. They catered to high rollers, rich guys like Brock, but they revealed as much as The Diamond Club strippers did. Basically, the only difference was how expensive the dances were and the fact that the guys used fifties and hundreds instead of ones and fives. I really didn't want to go, but I couldn't think of an excuse that didn't sound like I was whining so I kept my fake smile plastered across my face and nodded in agreement. If I was lucky, maybe Brock would think I was bored and we would go somewhere else. At least I wasn't alone in not wanting to go. One look at Julien's face said that he was humoring his friend just as much as I was.