I’m In Lust With A Stripper (Erotica) by Desiree Day

her voice quavering.
    Ruben nodded. “It’s not just you, it’s the whole department…including me. The head honchos decided that it would be more cost effective to relocate the entire I.T. department to India. I’m sorry,” he said, still reeling from the news himself. He only had a few hours to absorb it, he was told last night, during a late night meeting after most of the employees had left for the day.
    Brooke thought about her never ending bills and the possibility that she might not be able to pay her mortgage rattled her. She started crying. “What am I going to do?” she sobbed.
    Ruben pushed a box of tissues toward her, Brooke snatched out a few and dabbed at her eyes. “You’ll be fine,” Ruben answered. He opened a folder on his desk. “You’re getting four months of severance pay, you’ll have access to our resource center, they’ll help you write a resume—”
    Brooke whimpered and Ruben hesitated at the sound, he hated doing this, especially to Brooke, a single mom whose son’s father was an absentee dickhead. He knew because he served as her mentor and they occasionally lunched together where she updated him on her life.
    With a heavy heart Ruben continued, “Since the beginning of the month is quickly approaching the company will let you have health insurance until the end of the upcoming month, after that if you want insurance, you’ll have to sign up for COBRA. There’s information in the folder about rolling over your 401k or keeping it here. I know that this is a lot to absorb right now, I know that you’re in shock.”
    She fixed a tear stained gaze on Ruben. “I’m more than in shock, I’m in a shitload of trouble,” she croaked.
     
     
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    J’Twan, J.T. for short, Morrison, quarterback for the Atlanta Jaguars, sat across from Marcella Narozzi, his publicist. “This is fucked up. You know that don’t you?” she barked not pulling any punches.
    J.T. nodded. “I know.”
    “ This is a public relations nightmare.” She sighed, then strolled over to the window and looked out over the skyline. The sun was just setting, casting a honeyed glow over the city. After twenty years in the business she had seen it all and had cleaned up more messes than a cleaning lady. No scandal or soon-to-be scandal was too big. Her biggest coup was creating a campaign that convinced the residents of a small town to drink the water after traces of pharmaceutical drugs were found in it. She polished tarnished images, she was the Spin Doctor. Marcella was the lady to go to when people needed things fixed and they paid her handsomely for it. She clasped her hands behind her back. “You know that I respect you?”
    “ I do.”
    “ And you know that I always have your best interest at heart, don’t you?”
    He did, Marcella had been his publicist when he first signed to the NFL, he trusted her totally. “I do.”
    “ And you know that I don’t give a fuck about your lifestyle don’t you?”
    “ I do.”
    She turned away from the window. “But everybody isn’t as understanding as I am.”
    “ I know, but—”
    She threw up her hand. “The video was pulled from boobtube.com and all the celebrity gossip websites, but naturally we can’t retrieve the video from the people who have it in their private mailboxes. I called Barry—”
    “ Oh shit!” Barry Nevins was the owner of the Atlanta Jaguars.
    “ I needed to go on the offense and not the defense, that’s one thing that I learned while representing athletes. I told him that it wasn’t you in the video,” Marcella reported in clipped tones.
    “ And he believed you?” J.T. asked, his voice hopeful.
    Marcella shrugged. “He didn’t fire you,” she said dismissingly. “I think he was suspicious, but that’s all it is. And I don’t think that he wants to wrap his head around the fact that his one hundred million dollar quarterback might be gay.”
    “ Did he see the video?” J.T. tentatively asked. Barry