I Love Her Anyway

No matter how hard she tried, Calista couldn't shake Jonathan's words from her mind. Part of her agreed with him; her profession was quite degrading and she was a bright minded woman. Calista could find a better, more respectable job if she so desired. But the rapid income was hard to beat. It was a choice between making hundreds of dollars every night or taking a minimum wage job. It was a simple decision for the college student. In the real world, money overpowered pretty much everything.

The other part of her was furious at his obvious attempts to force his way into her life. There was something different about Jonathan Toews and that was as clear as day from the moment they met. He was determined; that was no secret. Calista couldn't help but to be flattered by his endeavor to save her but in all honesty, that's the last thing she ever wanted. The woman prided herself on being a strong, independent person. She didn't need or want a man to take care of her and hand her whatever she wanted.

Just thinking of Jonathan, she absentmindedly snapped her number two pencil in half. Shocked at the cracking noise, she looked down at her broken pencil and frowned. Ignoring the other student's curious glances, she sighed and tossed the pieces into her bag.

She pushed her glasses further onto her nose as she stood up and scooped her book bag into her arms. As she pushed her arm through the loop, her shoulder holding all of the weight from her textbooks, a body approached her.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" The student asked, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand that wasn't hugging his own books to his chest. Calista raised her eyebrows, looking around him, her eyes fixe on the door. She had to be at work in two hours and her plan included taking a shower before catching the bus.

"No I don't think so," she admitted, biting down on her bottom lip.

"That's weird, you just look so familiar," he trailed off, lost deep in thought as he racked his brain to remember where he had seen her face.

"Sorry, I gotta go," Calista mumbled and brushed by him to get to the door.

She sighed in relief as she stepped out of the building of the community college. Calista went far out of her way to be sure that no one from her school recognized her from work. That meant hardly speaking to her peers any more than required and walking with her head down most days. The last thing she needed was to have her intelligence undermined due to her morally questionable line of work.

It's not like it was always Calista's childhood dream to become a stripper when she grew up. In fact, Calista was only a dancer because she was such a driven person. The woman was willing to do whatever it took to get to where she wanted to be. And if she wanted to attend law school next fall, she was going to need a heavy wallet sitting in her pocket.

She found herself at the back door of the building that she knew all too well. Since she had time to kill, she pulled a cigarette out of the cardboard pack and reflected on the past year that she'd been an employee at this very establishment.

Calista's hips swayed as she carried a tray of drinks to a table, passing them around once she got there. She leaned forward on the table, showing off her very generous amount of cleavage as she accepted the tip that was offered in her direction. Sending the man a sexy smile, she turned on her five inch heel. With the amount of confidence that oozed from every pore, you'd never guess that this was only her first week on the job. Of course, the regulars knew that though.

Her eyes instantly spotted a group of men who just so happened to be staring right back at her. They whispered to one another before the shortest of the group, with curly strawberry blonde hair waved her down.

He was devilishly good looking with a twinkle of mischief in his light colored eyes. The bass of the rap song vibrated the tables as Calista strutted across the floor. He smirked when she stood in front of him, his eyes slowly trailing from her legs up to her chest. He leaned in, speaking close to her ear.

"Take my friend Tazer back to a room. He's pretty stressed out, I'm sure you can help with that, right?" He motioned to a much taller man who stood off to the side. The man with darker hair and eyes shoved his hands into his jean pockets, refusing to look towards the stripper whose eyes were burning holes into him. A small desirable smile played on Calista's lips as she nodded at the shorter of the two. He took out his wallet, handing her a single bill with Benjamin Franklin's face printed on the paper.

She took Jonathan by his hand and tugged him across the floor. His heart raced in his chest as he sent a glare towards his friend, who was already busy ordering some lap dances for the rest of his friends. Jon had tried to convince Patrick that this just wasn't his scene but as usual, Patrick had insisted and Jonathan caved.

Calista swung the door closed behind the two and Jonathan began to shift uncomfortably. His eyes took in his surroundings in the dimly lighted room. A sleek black leather sectional couch lined three walls, which were made up entire of mirrors. Speakers hung on the walls, quietly playing the same song that was pumping loudly in the main room.

She grabbed a handful of his shirt, and admired the hard muscles of his chest that she could feel just so slightly on the back of her hand. She looked up at him under her eyelashes, taking a long stride forward. Jonathan's breath caught in his throat as he took a step backwards, falling onto the couch that was behind him. She swiftly climbed onto his lap without letting go of her hold on his shirt, straddling him with ease. Her red lipstick painted lips trailed down his neck, barely touching his skin. Jonathan's eyes fluttered closed before he cleared his throat.

"Listen, I don't really want to do this," he choked out, grabbing a hold of her bare hips. He swallowed the lump in his throat as her hot breath continued to brush across the delicate skin that stretched over his collarbone. "Really, let's just talk."

Calista stopped as she processed his words and pulled away from the nape of his neck to look him in his eyes. The dark brown color held such intensity and seriousness that it nearly took her breath away. She looked at him quizzically. His large hands still had a tight grasp on her lips as he looked up at the woman who was perched on his lip.

"Are you sure?" She asked him quietly. He nodded. With a sigh, she wondered if maybe she wasn't pretty enough for the handsome man. Jonathan must have sensed her insecurity as she pushed herself off of him.

"I'm sorry. This just isn't my idea of fun," he told her, his eyes carefully watching her back as she gracefully moved away from him. "I don't mean to offend you. I really am sorry, my friends just insist I do these kinds of things."

Calista turned and sent Jonathan a sweet, real smile. He was taken aback for a moment. Her genuine smile was so much more beautiful than the mischievous smirk she had fixed upon her lips when they entered this room.

"It's okay, you're a respectful man," she said, turning back towards him. Calista adjusted her bejeweled push up bra, making sure everything was covered before taking a seat next to him on the couch. "How about we just sit in here for a while so your friends think we're up to no good?" Jonathan let out a breath, feeling incredibly relieved. He sent her a grin as she tucked her legs under her.

"That would be great," he laughed. An awkward silence filled the air and the two looked around the room, avoiding connecting eyes for a few minutes. Finally, Jonathan spoke up. "So what's your name?" He asked, failing to come up with anything more creative in the presence of the beautiful, mostly clothless woman. She picked at her nails.

"Allura Devine," she answered, not looking at him. He shook his head, though he knew she couldn't see but he on the other hand, was observing her closely.

"No, not your stripper name," he added. Her eyes shot up to meet his now. She eyed him for a moment.

Calista wasn't sure what to say. She had signed a paper upon being hired that stated she wasn't to give out any personal information. It was for the dancers' safety. But it was clear that Jonathan was much different than the rest of the men who had visited the club. She felt as if she could trust him. So she answered his question with complete honesty.

"Calista," she told him as his smothering eyes looked deep into her own hazel ones. He let a small smile shine through his serious demeanor.

"That's very pretty." She blushed slightly at his compliment.

"What's yours?"

"Jonathan," he answered, "Jonathan Toews. It's nice to meet you, Calista."

With a long sigh, she flicked her cigarette onto the pavement that was still wet from this afternoon's torrential downpour. She then opened the door and prepared herself for a long night at work.