#entrepreneur grants

[nenelonomh]

something is brewing...

[afrotumble]

The full, frank story of a remarkable life’s journey—to the pinnacle of success as a basketball player, icon, and entrepreneur, to the depths of personal trauma and back, to a place of flourishing and peace—made possible above all by a family’s love

Grant Hill always had game. His choice of college was a subject of national interest, and his arrival at Duke University cemented the program’s arrival at the top. In his freshman year, he led the team to its first NCAA championship, and three championship appearances in four years. His Duke career produced some of the most iconic moments in college basketball history, and Coach K proved to be a lifelong mentor. Later, as one of the NBA’s best players and a new face of the Detroit Pistons franchise, Hill was the first person with the potential to give Michael Jordan a run for his money, not just as a player but as a brand. His $45 million rookie contract was almost the least of it. He turned down Nike for Fila, and soon Method Man and Tupac Shakur were wearing his shoes.

Hill writes candidly about all of it, including the transactional impermanence of life in the league and the isolation caused by his growing fame. His parents and friends helped ground him, and eventually he met a gifted musician named Tamia. The love he found with her and the arrival of their two beautiful daughters would be his rock as a brutal and mysterious injury sidelined him, coinciding with his wife’s own serious health struggles.

With openness and insight, Hill relates his entire path, including post-career highlights like his Hall of Fame induction, co-ownership of the Atlanta Hawks, the directorship of the USA Basketball Men’s National Team, and even a yearly gig calling the Final Four. Hill’s father, Calvin, used to tell him that there were always a lot of reasons but never any excuses, and Game is a distillation of a lifetime’s effort to understand the reasons—the good and the bad. At his hardest moments, Hill sought out wisdom from others, stories of inspiration and overcoming obstacles. Now, with Game, he has returned the favor.

Amazon Books.

[christinataft]

🎢 (Version 2 Movie) "1 milione di ricercati !!"

PRIVATE JET FIXERS - Actress Grace Kelly & Cary Grant.

Alfred Hitchcock Scenes showing a Chartered Private Jet & 'the cat' is an Analogy

(Educational Purposes -- movies directed by Alfred & more)

// Hint: It is not the cat. Screenwriter & Director are brilliant at showing complexities and smokescreens. // Please See the Full Movies (#GraceKelly to Catch a Thief, Rear Window, and Dial M -- owned by their respective studios) to Understand and Learn about the coercive effect of .... It's very different without the FULL SEQUENCES REPORTED. To really learn that, please watch "Dial M" ☎️ At the same time, both the little man and the women with Wealth become like 'the cat' set up wrongfully as well.

Credits to: Cary Grant & Crishya (explaining how #PrivateJets are boarded and how they appear) youtube.com/watch?v=hzaGHW1wdqU

"1 milione di ricercati" #Italy - See Fuller Version (including fuller explanations) at: PRIVATE JET FIXERS - Grace Kelly Movies & Alfred Hitchcock Blackmail https://vimeo.com/862288304

[darlingkeyzblog]

Lessons from Digital Entrepreneurs: Grant Cardone’s Investment Strategies

Grant Cardone is a name synonymous with success, wealth, and the relentless pursuit of financial independence. A self-made millionaire, entrepreneur, and best-selling author, Cardone has built a global empire by mastering the art of investment and real estate. His journey from humble beginnings to becoming one of the most influential digital entrepreneurs in the world is nothing short of…

[ascendnbs]

Investing in Women: Grants for Advancing Gender Equality and Women's Initiatives

Dive into the world of grants dedicated to supporting gender equality and women's initiatives. Learn about funding sources committed to empowering women in various fields, from education and healthcare to leadership and social entrepreneurship.

[sandpaperdaisy]

The Year of Jubilee

2024 might possibly be THE MOST ACTIVE YEAR OF ART that I've ever attempted. Here's what I have going so far:

[boldbeginnings]

Tara Bosch: Transforming Candy, One SmartSweet at a Time

In a world inundated with sugary temptations, Tara Bosch emerges as a beacon of change, challenging the status quo of the confectionery industry. Through her innovative company, SmartSweets, Tara is revolutionizing the way we indulge in candy, offering a guilt-free alternative that satisfies cravings without compromising on taste or health. Join us as we explore Tara Bosch's journey and the impact of SmartSweets in transforming the candy landscape, one SmartSweet at a time.

A Visionary Entrepreneur: Tara Bosch's story begins with a simple yet profound realization: the need for better options in the candy aisle. Fueled by her own struggle with sugar cravings and a desire to make healthier choices, Tara embarked on a mission to reimagine sweets. Armed with determination and a passion for innovation, she founded SmartSweets with the goal of creating delicious treats that are low in sugar, high in fiber, and bursting with flavor.

The SmartSweets Difference: What sets SmartSweets apart is its commitment to crafting confections that prioritize health without sacrificing taste. Through meticulous research and development, Tara and her team have perfected a unique formula using plant-based ingredients and natural sweeteners to create candies that deliver on both fronts. From gummy bears to sour candies, each SmartSweet offers a guilt-free indulgence that delights the taste buds and nourishes the body.

Empowering Healthier Choices: At the heart of SmartSweets is a mission to empower consumers to make healthier choices without feeling deprived. By providing a satisfying alternative to traditional candy, Tara aims to shift perceptions and habits surrounding snacking. SmartSweets isn't just about selling candy—it's about fostering a community of wellness warriors who refuse to compromise on their health goals.

Building a Sweet Empire: Since its inception, SmartSweets has experienced exponential growth, garnering praise from consumers and industry insiders alike. From humble beginnings in Tara's kitchen to becoming a household name, the brand's journey is a testament to Tara's entrepreneurial spirit and unwavering dedication. Today, SmartSweets can be found on shelves across North America and beyond, inspiring millions to rethink their relationship with candy.

The Future of SmartSweets: As SmartSweets continues to expand its reach and offerings, Tara remains committed to her vision of transforming the candy industry for the better. With new products in development and a growing community of supporters, the future is bright for this innovative company. Tara's journey serves as a reminder that small changes can lead to big impacts, and that with determination and creativity, anything is possible.

Conclusion: Tara Bosch's dedication to transforming candy through SmartSweets is more than just a business venture—it's a movement towards a sweeter, healthier future. By challenging norms, embracing innovation, and prioritizing consumer well-being, Tara has redefined what it means to indulge in sweets. As we look ahead, let us celebrate Tara's achievements and continue to support the mission of SmartSweets: to make candy better for all, one SmartSweet at a time.

[naijabullet]

Global Innovation Fund for Organizations | How to Apply

Here’s an opportunity to apply for the Global Innovation Fund (GIF) which is designed to help organizations like yours grow. This Global Innovation Fund programme is a social impact-first investment vehicle that collaborates with mission-aligned development agencies, philanthropy, and other funders to identify and fund evidence-based innovations that have the potential to improve the lives of…

[cascadia-stack-blog]

Week of Thought Provoking Questions

Cascadia Stack, how do you, as a company, feel about Capitalism?

During the Bernie Sanders)Elizabeth Warren days of bliss, when we were all hopeful for the change we want to see (who is this partial quote referring to? I will give you 2 carbon tax credits if you are correct, down in the comments, please).... My thoughts then have waivered about capitalism through my college years. Then during my Bernie period, I hated, no, Hated capitalism. But, then it was my Fox-News-watching mother in Texas that reminded me that what I should rather feel is that I hate "extreme capitalists".

Stack has applied for fiscal sponsorship

I will find out in the next 2-4 weeks if I will be invited into this awesome family of wonderful projects doing really good work out there. The point is that making the decision to switch from a for-profit company to a non-profit was an act of "letting go". Because the work we do in the Bioregion or Eco-region as some may argue, is the work for the people but also by the people. It is the people who live laugh and love here that will bring resilience to the land that we all love and honor.

Stack is submitting a grant proposal for $985.

It is a national grant so the competition will be huge. They have several awards to give so I am hopeful.

Once we achieve fiscal sponsorship then we are a 501c3 by proxy and can begin fundraising.

Thx 4 reading. Also, don't forget to put your guess as to who my quote was referencing in the comments to get your 2 carbon tax credits. (More on that later.)

[youtube-asbcapitalloanfunding]

Incredibly fast alternative small business loans, funding working capital with low interest, same day funding available, equipment financing for the tools you need, and much more.

Your Competition Is Back to Growing. Are You? If Not Get Funding Now.

Our simple application connects you with our lender marketplace to get you the best rates, terms, and amounts.

Best Small Business Loans

Your opportunity is waiting, but not for long. Let ASB Capital Loan Funding help you seize it before it’s too late! Choose from a variety of financing options (based on your needs) to take your business to the next level.

We’re here to help your business grow! Our Business Financing Advisors fight every day to get you the funding you deserve, and have a great time doing it!

You Are Just Hours Away From The Money You Need!

1. Apply with a free, easy and frictionless digital application in less than 60 seconds.

2. Connect with your Business Financing Advisor, who will reach out to learn more about your goals, and answer any questions.

3. Match with one (or several) lenders available in our Lender Marketplace to find the best offers (lowest rates, highest amounts, and best terms).

4. Review offers tailored to help your business grow in real time, and choose the best one for your business with guidance from your Business Financing Advisor.

5. Get Funded in as little as a few hours, and get back to what’s most important: growing your business!

When your bank or SBA can't help, we can!

LEARN MORE

Courtesy of ASB Capital Loan Funding

[plushlikecreaturesgallery]

so my life is once again in danger

I'm a venezuelan refugee in Spain since 2019. My focus was entirely on escaping and staying in a safe country. When I got here, I got the help of an accountant/manager to start working legally.

He committed fraud in my name without telling me and refused to take responsibility. I was penalized to pay €8600 for his mistake.

I'll add the whole explanation after the read more because you need context to understand what he did.

And now if I can't pay this thing, my residence will be taken away. I will be deported.

I've tried so hard to raise this money. More work, more marketing, preorders, asking for a loan, but nothing has worked.

I have until next month to pay it so I can renew my residence.

All I wanted was to do things right. I thought seeking a professional to handle the legal aspects of my business was the right thing to do. I thought I could finally breathe after being treated like a criminal for years in Venezuela, when all I want is to make my silly little figurines in peace.

I need to take care of my babies (cats) and my parents who are still stuck in Venezuela. I only make enough to live + take care of them, and it's become clear that I can't raise this money by work alone.

So please, any help is appreciated. Reblogs, orders, commissions. I'm so incredibly embarrassed to make this post, but I'm desperate. I don't want to be deported. I don't want to be an illegal alien. I don't want to live in constant fear again.

Here's my Ko-fi link, thank you for reading

https://ko-fi.com/marlikesunicorns/goal?g=0

and this is my shop

There's some context needed to understand what happened, so here it goes.

In Spain, you need to pay a monthly fee of €300 in order to run a business. This goes to the Social Security.

The fee is mandatory, but the government realized it was unfair to charge it from the beginning to a business that's only starting. So they established a reduction of €240 for new entrepreneurs, for 1 year. After that, they'd slowly raise it.

They also gave benefits to people living in certain areas, especially small towns. The fee reduction extended for 6 extra months with this, but only applied as long as you continued to live there for 4 years.

I lived in a small town for 1 year. Then I moved to the closest small city.

But this accountant guy asked for this 6 month extension in my name without my consent.

So then the government demanded I pay the whole €240 for each month ever since I started my business. I went through all the legal processes to ask them to review this thing but it was impossible. They ignored everything. It didn't matter that I only received the benefit for the 1 year that I would've been given anyway for being a new entrepreneur. It didn't matter that I would never be able to afford to pay this in the 15 days they gave me.

If that wasn't enough, I got sick with covid twice, and missed 4 months of work in total, months I got 0 income because they also won't ensure me until I pay the thing. So those fees were also added to the debt + late fees that continue to grow.

Summary: Basically he promised the government I'd live in a small town for 4 years, and when I moved before then (because I had no idea he had done this) they demanded I pay back ALL the benefits they had granted me in the past year.

[thesecrettimes]

I was a Prisoner to my Business

When the economy crashed in 2008, I found out I was susceptible to all kinds of problems.  Over four hundred banks collapsed. Banks started shutting down and desperately tried to get cash. Even though I had never been late on a payment, the banks called in $50 million in loans on my real estate portfolio. That’s when I realized, “This doesn’t work.” Why did they call in my loans? Because I was too small. If I was big, they wouldn’t have asked for the money back. I needed to get big. Remember “Too big to fail?” I needed to get too big to fail. If it wasn’t for the crash in 2008, I wouldn’t have given up on the $3 million and gone to 10X. Most business owners are just operating their business and hoping it keeps growing. They can only take their business so far before the weight of growth starts to wear on them. They need to bring on people, processes, and systems, but they don’t know how to do it. The biggest issue with business owners is they don’t know how to create that type of value. They look at their business in reverse. They see where it’s at right now and where it started. I look at businesses differently. I look at where a business could be in 5 or 10 years. I heard a stat that 4 out of 5 public companies won’t exist in the next 5 years. It’s because they aren’t looking at their business the right way. I’m looking at where it could be and putting in place the pieces to capture that value. Let’s say a business is at $3 million and wants to go to $5 million. At first, the owner is going to try and figure it out by themselves. That is until they realize everything is breaking. I see companies spending fortunes on things that don’t move the needle. They spend all this money on things like Logos and mission statements. They make the whole growth cycle so complex and expensive. At the end of it, they can’t even articulate what the big-picture goal is or what their purpose is. Their employees don’t even understand their value proposition. When they grow, they become less efficient and less effective. Often, they become less profitable. They could end up making less money at $5 million than they did at $3 million. Scaling a business is something I had to learn by trial and error. Most business owners that achieve success go through a catastrophic scenario that either makes them or breaks them. That happened to me starting in 2008. I’ve figured out how to eliminate the need for that kind of catastrophic event. I’ve helped thousands of business owners grow and scale. There’s an actual science behind scaling your business. If I can build businesses that are worth billions of dollars, then I can show you exactly what I did. And I’m going to show you not only what I did to get where I am today. I’m also going to show you what I’m doing right now to grow even bigger than ever this year. And it’s all happening at the 10X Growth Conference. But there is something you need to know… 10X Growth Conference is Sold Out! That’s why I’ve opened a “backdoor” for you to get access to the #1 Business and Entrepreneur event on the planet. I asked my team to add a few extra seats. Now you can skip the line and shortcut the waiting list. All you have to do is click the link below to get started. Don’t put this off. This is going to be the best 10X Growth Conference in history. The most electrifying event in business is waiting for you. And for a limited time, you can get access at a huge savings. These extra tickets won’t last long. Depending on when you read this, they might already be gone. Here’s what I want you to do next. Click here to get your special ticket (at a massive savings) to 10X Growth Conference. This will take you to executive tickets, if you want any other level (VIP, Premier, or Diamond) send me a message and I'll make sure you get a seat. Be Great, Grant Cardone Read the full article

[bradleygrant-nj]

Bradley Grant NJ - A Business Owner

Bradley Grant NJ a realtor in New Jersey is an avid traveler and real estate agent. As a businessman, he has had the opportunity to meet many people from all over the world. Bradley Grant hopes to swim with dolphins and skydive with his friends one day as part of his lifelong love of adventure.

[andshesaidwhat]

Cherry - Clay Beresford

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Part Four | Part Five | Part Six |

Summary: Clay Beresford was one of Manhattan’s most notorious playboys. His name, and the money that came with it, garnered him a big reputation. Bored of the spotlight and in need of a distraction, Clay ventures to a hole-in-the-wall strip club in the Lower East Side. When he sees you walk out on that stage, he knows at once that you could be the one to rewrite his story.

Warnings: stripper!reader, playboy!Clay, reader works at a strip club and a lot of the story takes place there, descriptions of sex work, reader has a tragic backstory, mentions of abuse, mentions of homelessness, alcohol consumption, Clay doesn’t have heart problems, eventual smut, pining, angst, Clay has a savior complex, reader doesn’t know how to have non-transactional relationships.

Playlist / Masterlist

Clay Beresford nursed a glass of whiskey as he tried to tune out the droning of yet another young entrepreneur giving him a business pitch.

He went through the motions — nodding and humming, asking the occasional question, taking the knock-off business card — in hopes that they would be satisfied and leave him to his night.

All he wanted was to have a drink and relax, but everywhere he went he was bombarded by people who saw him as an opportunity instead of a person.

He supposed it came with the territory of carrying the Beresford name. He’d inherited an empire from his father, vile as he was, and essentially walked around with dollar signs flashing above his head.

He wasn’t ungrateful for his life, nor did he stray away from the benefits it gave him, he was just…frustrated. He never knew if the people in his life were there because they wanted to know him or because they wanted to know his money. More often than not, it was the latter.

He needed a distraction — something that made him feel a sense of normalcy for once. He finished the last of his whiskey, setting the empty glass down on the marble bar top. He offered a polite goodbye to the bartender and the scrambling businessman before grabbing his coat and walking out of the building.

His driver was already waiting for him outside and he climbed into the backseat of the black SUV, mumbling vague directions as he rubbed at his temples. The driver gave him an odd look in the rear view mirror, but didn’t question it as he drove off toward the Lower East Side.

Clay didn’t venture to this area of Manhattan often — hardly ever, actually — but, when he did, nobody ever noticed him. They had their own lives to deal with and didn’t need to be obsessed with his.

Maybe that was what was drawing him here this time. He wanted to be able to slink into the shadows, just for a little while.

As they drove, Clay watched the city pass from the car window. He cocked his head in interest as they passed a joint with a bright red sign flashing above it.

The Silk Rose.

A gentleman’s club. He snorted, doubting there were any gentlemen in there at all. Still, his interest was piqued. Maybe a night in a sleazy club watching girls dance around in lingerie was exactly what he needed.

He told his driver to park up the street a bit, careful not to draw too much attention to himself. With his hands in his pockets, he kept his head down as he made his way over to the entrance.

The windows and doors were blacked out, preventing any prying eyes from peeking in.

Perfect, he thought. This was just the kind of privacy he was looking for.

He grabbed the door handle, glancing up at the tagline written above his head.

Come on in and see Sal’s Dancing Girls!

The night had been slower for you than usual.

There were the regulars, sitting in their normal spots, but you’d barely broken $250 and hadn’t gotten a single private room booking. Granted, private dances certainly weren’t your favorite part of the job, but they were what made the big bucks. You could handle a creep or two if it meant your bills were paid.

You sat in the dressing room backstage, touching up your makeup and rubbing at your feet that were from the tall heels you wore as you waited for your next set. The area was bustling with the other dancers, all in different states of undress and disarray.

You didn’t mind what you did. You liked dancing — although you’d thought you’d be pursuing dance in a different direction than where you’d ended up. You weren’t forced into this life, like some of the others. You were here by choice. It just maybe wasn’t your first choice.

You were confident in it, though. You knew how to work a room. You knew how to manipulate sleazy men into emptying their wallets. You were always in control.

You certainly didn’t need anyone to save you.

You heard the last song of the previous dancer’s set end and took one more look in the mirror. You removed your robe and adjusted the skimpy costume before taking a deep breath and walking toward the back of the stage.

Showtime.

Clay sat at the bar, prying his glass up from the sticky table and taking a sip as one of the dancers exited the stage. He watched as the workers swept up the money that had been thrown, gathering it into a bag before bringing it to the back.

She’d been fine. Her set was pretty par for the course as far as Clay could expect. He’d still found himself zoning out or focusing more on his drink than her dancing.

After the stage was fully cleared off, the lights dimmed to a deep red as a new song started. It was like the energy in the room shifted. Suddenly, everyone was waiting with bated breath as the next dancer took the stage.

Clay sat up straighter in his seat, setting his glass down as the spotlight hit the most beautiful girl he’d ever seen.

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you. He was captivated, mesmerized. Even the way you walked was enticing. He leaned forward, hanging on to every move you made.

He wasn’t the only one, either. You had the entire room wrapped around your finger.

Clay watched as you worked the stage, feeling the energy from the crowd. Then, you began to dance.

He felt breathless. His heart was pounding beneath his chest. The way you moved was like a song in and of itself. You were the music. Your movements told a story and he was very, very curious to unravel it.

You fell into the rhythmic routine, working the stage like you owned it — and, in that moment, you did. The lights warmed your skin as you moved your body to the sensual beat of the music, putting on a tantalizing show of removing bits of your costume until you were left in lingerie.

You scanned the audience, as you normally did, looking for anyone who seemed easy to reel in. People would be surprised at how many extra tips you get when the lonely people in the crowd think you’ve noticed them. However, this time, your eyes landed on one man in particular.

You hadn’t seen him at this club before, but he looked vaguely familiar — and devilishly handsome. He seemed to be transfixed on you, so you let your eyes stay locked with his.

The crystalline blue pulled you in, but there was something else about the way he was looking at you. You were used to stares of lust, envy, even ownership — but he was gazing at you with pure interest. The kind of interest that went beyond physical attraction. He wasn’t just watching you take your clothes off. He was watching you dance.

As the music of your last song faded out you gave the crowd a grin and a wave, winking at the handsome stranger before exiting the stage.

You walked back to your vanity, plopping down in the chair with a tired huff. One of the staff members brought you the bag with your tips and you sorted through it, counting the bills. It wasn’t bad, but it could’ve been better.

You groaned, tired of the slow night, and glanced at the clock. There was only a little over an hour left in your shift.

“What’s wrong, babycakes?”

You turned your head to face the dancer whose vanity was next to yours. She had her chin propped on her hand as she looked at you, her bright pink hair pinned to the top of her head.

Frenchie was the name she went by. She was the only dancer that ever had actual conversations with you. She was nice, if a bit eccentric, and you were grateful for the friendly face.

“Just a slow night, French,” you sighed, shrugging your shoulders.

She scoffed, taking a drag of a cigarette as she said, “Shit, doll. If it’s a slow night for you then it’s a wasteland for the rest of us.”

Your eyebrows scrunched in confusion as you asked, “What is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, please,” Frenchie sigh, playfully rolling her eyes. “You’re the fan favorite, babes. Everyone here knows it. That’s why I’m the only one who talks to you.”

You swatted your hand at her with a laugh, shaking your head as you smiled. You spotted your boss, Sal, walking up behind you in your mirror and you tilted your head back to look at him.

“Someone’s requesting you,” he said, gruff as always.

“See?” Frenchie said, sticking her tongue out at you.

You stuck your tongue out back at her before turning back to Sal. “Who is it?”

“Does it matter? He’s paying,” he grunted, shrugging as he rolled his eyes. “It’s room four.”

Sal walked out of the dressing room as you touched up your hair and makeup, glancing over at Frenchie as she prepared to go do her set on stage.

“Go get ‘em, tiger,” she said, smacking your ass as she walked past you.

“Knock ‘em dead, French,” you called out after her, laughing softly.

You took a deep, steadying breath as you walked down the long hallway, readying yourself to face whatever greaseball would be waiting for you. This was where you made the most money, it just also happened to be the part you hated the most.

You stopped outside of the door labeled with the big number 4 and gave a silent plea to whatever was out there that this would go by smoothly.

To your delight, you didn’t see any of the sleazy regulars when you opened the door. Instead, you saw the handsome stranger who had been watching you so intently during your set.

A sultry smile pulled at your lips as you locked eyes with him. You weren’t supposed to enjoy these sessions — this was work, after all, and you were doing a job — but it didn’t hurt when the clients looked this pretty.

“I was hoping it was you that requested me,” you said, walking into the room with a sway of your hips.

It was true, but you would’ve said it regardless. That was the job. Make them feel seen and important so that they handed over more money.

The handsome stranger’s eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled at you, seeming to relax into the moment.

“I’m happy not to let you down, then,” he said, his voice low and husky. “Please, join me.”

He gestured over to a bottle of champagne resting in a bucket of ice by the plush leather couch. His gaze lingered on you as you walked into the room, his eyes drinking in the sight of you. He felt a sense of excitement building within him — an anticipation that he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Your eyes almost widened. Champagne? You were lucky to get so much as a polite introduction when you worked these rooms. You hadn’t ever had a customer provide refreshments. By the looks of the bottle, it wasn’t the cheap kind either.

Who was this man and why did he feel so familiar?

“So, tell me,” he said, pouring some of the champagne into a glass and offering it to you, “what’s your name?”

You kept up your performance facade, taking the glass from him and batting your lashes.

“It’s in poor form to ask personal details of the dancers,” you tutted, a teasing smile adorning your lips. “You can call me Cherry.”

All of the dancers had names that you went by. Yours just so happened to be Cherry. The name held a certain significance to you and you were grateful for the protection of identity — in more ways than one.

“Ah, Cherry,” he smiled, the name sitting nicely on his tongue. “I like that. I’m Clay.”

He paused for a moment, studying you as if he was waiting for some kind of reaction. When he didn’t get one, he nodded with a small smile and relaxed into the couch.

“I hope you enjoy the champagne,” he said, bringing his own glass to his lips. “I thought it might make you more comfortable while we…talk.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, taking a sip of the delicious bubbles. People who rented these rooms didn’t usually want to talk. They wanted you to dance and wanted to see how far they could bend the rules.

There were certain rules that you and the customers had to follow. Neither the dancers nor the customers could be fully nude, the customers and the dancers could not touch each other, and under no circumstances could the dancers maintain personal or intimate relationships with the customers.

Clay seemed…different. He was tempting in all of the wrong ways. You knew you had to tread carefully.

“So, Cherry,” Clay began, throwing an arm across the back of the couch, “what do you like to do for fun?”

A playful smirk pulled at your lips as you asked, “Is this not fun?”

Clay’s eyes lit up at your question and he laughed — a deep, rich sound.

“Oh, it’s definitely fun,” he said, smiling, “but I was thinking more along the lines of getting to know you. I’d love to learn more about you.” He paused, his eyes searching yours. “If you’re willing to share, of course.”

Getting to know you? This guy books a stripper to get to know her?

“Respectable,” you nodded. “Most people just book me to see how close they can get to touching me. You can’t, by the way. Touch me, that is. It’s strictly against the rules.”

You set your champagne glass down on the table and walked over to the stereo to turn on some slow, sensual music.

“You paid for an hour long dance, so I’d be doing a poor job if I didn’t comply,” you said, sauntering back over to him.

You should’ve just started dancing and stuck to your job, but his pretty eyes were so intrigued that you couldn’t say no to him.

“How about this,” you offered, “you ask questions while I dance. Deal?”

Clay’s eyes gleamed with delight as he nodded, clearly pleased with himself.

“Deal,” he said, his voice low and smooth. “Oh, and Cherry?”

He set his glass down before leaning back into the couch with a grin.

“I have to warn you, I’m not very good at following rules.”

You placed your hands on the cushion behind his head, leaning over him as you swayed your hips.

“If you want to keep the session going, you’d better be,” you whispered, warning in your tone. “Otherwise, the fun would be over. So keep your hands by your sides, pretty boy.”

His eyes flashed with amusement as he raised an eyebrow, but he obediently placed his hands at his sides.

“Oh, I’ll be good,” he promised. “I wouldn’t want the fun to stop.”

He trailed his gaze over your figure, watching as you danced.

“Back to my original question, Cherry,” he said, flicking his eyes back up to yours. “What do you like to do when you aren’t…dancing?”

You stood up again, seductively twirling and swaying to the beat as you thought about the question.

You weren’t sure how much you wanted to reveal to him. He was still just a pretty face — a very tempting pretty face. He wasn’t the first person to come in here with delusions of grandeur. You didn’t want him to reel you in.

“I like to read,” you said, rolling your hips. “I like to watch cheesy romance movies, and I’m a damn good cook.”

His eyes sparkled with interest as you answered, his gaze never leaving yours.

“A woman of many talents,” he murmured, a soft smile on his face. He leaned forward slightly as he asked, “What kind of romance movies do you like to watch?”

“The ones with every cliche in the book,” you grinned, swirling around to the music. “I want the sappy love confessions, the angsty miscommunication, and the big fight that leads to the romantic kiss in the rain.”

You leaned over him again, rotating your hips as you bent down to whisper in his ear, “and it’s gotta have a good sex scene.”

Clay’s gaze darkened at your words, his breathing quickening. He felt a surge of desire course through his veins and he had to force himself to remain still, to not reach out and touch you.

He paused for a moment, then asked, “Do you believe in love at first sight?”

You laughed softly in his ear, leaning back up as you continued dancing.

“That kind of thing only exists in fiction, pretty boy,” you said, trying not to sound bitter.

He smiled, cocking his head to the side with a small laugh.

“Maybe,” he replied, his voice dripping with skepticism, “but I think there’s something to be said for the idea that two people can just click, you know?”

He leaned toward, his eyes locked onto yours as he said, “I think maybe we click, Cherry.”

You scoffed, an amused smile etched into your features as you rolled your eyes.

“Do you know how many people come here and claim they fell in love with me? People pay me to give them a show, and I deliver. It’s all transactional. I’m in the business of temporarily filling the vacant holes in people’s lives.”

Clay’s eyes never left yours, his expression tense with something that bordered understanding.

“Yes, I do,” he said, his voice serious. “I’m not naive enough to think that we’re anything more than what we are here tonight…but sometimes, Cherry, I think people need a little bit of fantasy. Just for tonight, let’s forget about life and reality outside of these walls. Let’s just enjoy each other’s company, okay?”

A pretty face that spoke pretty words.

Damn him.

“Fine,” you obliged, smiling despite yourself. “Still, no touching, but you can carry on with your questions.”

“Excellent,” he said, his eyes sparkling with triumph as his mouth curled into a satisfied grin. “What’s the most memorable performance you’ve ever given?”

You smiled, playfully, and responded, “Seventh grade ballet recital, hands down. Not a dry eye in the house.”

“Seventh grade, huh?” Clay chuckled. “I never would’ve guessed. What made it so memorable?”

A fond smile graced your lips as you let your mind reminisce on a memory you didn’t usually let yourself wander to.

“I used to have really terrible stage fright. I’d get under the lights and I’d just freeze. I had been working really hard all year on this solo and I got selected to perform in the recital. Right as I went on stage, I forgot every piece of choreography. I was so panicked, I wanted to run off the stage and hide. Then, I heard the music start and I just…danced. I let the music move me. To this day, it’s still the freest I’ve ever felt.”

You shook your head, instantly regretting the vulnerability.

“Never mind that, though,” you laughed. “You think everything is world changing when you’re that age.”

Clay’s eyes softened, his expression becoming more contemplative. “I think that’s beautiful,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “The fact that you were able to find freedom in that moment, despite your fears and doubts…it’s truly inspiring.” He paused, his gaze lingering on yours. “I think that’s what makes human connection so powerful. We can be ourselves, without apology, and find freedom in that vulnerability.” The skin by his eyes crinkled as he smiled again. “Speaking of which, Cherry…do you believe everyone has a story worth telling?”

“I think there are stories to be found everywhere, if you look hard enough,” you shrugged, refilling his champagne glass.

“Ah, a philosopher, too,” he smirked, his voice ripe with amusement. “I think you might be the most fascinating person I’ve met in a very long time.”

He thought for a moment as he took the champagne glass, then said, “Would you like to hear a story, Cherry?”

“A dance for a story,” you pondered. “I think that’s a fair transaction.”

Clay’s eyes lit up with excitement as he sipped his drink. “Excellent,” he grinned, settling back into the couch. “I’ve always loved the story of Romeo and Juliet. The passion, the tragedy, the love that consumed them both. Imagine if Romeo and Juliet lived in modern times, Cherry. Would they still fall in love? Would they still meet the same fate?”

“I think Romeo and Juliet were two horny teenagers, too naive for their own good,” you smirked, swaying to the music.

Your movements absentmindedly transitioned from sensual to holding the essence of his storytelling as he spoke.

“Ah, but that’s what makes their story so tragic,” he countered, shaking his head. “Their naivety is what drives them to take such reckless risks, to chase after a love that seems impossible. Yet, despite the danger, despite the obstacles, despite the fact that they come from different worlds…they still manage to find each other, to connect on a deeper level. Don’t you think that’s what makes love so intoxicating?”

He paused, his gaze searching yours before he laughed softly and said, “Or am I just a hopeless romantic?”

“You’re hopeless, alright,” you joked, despite the fact that his words managed to pang your heart.

You did not fall in love. You didn’t even think about love. One stranger’s pretty words weren’t going to change that. This was transactional.

His stories were so compelling, though…

You leaned over him again, bringing your face as close to his as you could without making contact.

“You know what I think?” You whispered, glancing down at his lips. “I think our time is up.”

The clock rang, signaling that the hour was over. You straightened up and stepped back, giving him one last wink.

“Thanks for the story, pretty boy.”

Clay’s face seemed to fall with disappointment as you pulled away from him, but his voice remained smooth and charming.

“Until next time, Cherry.”

As you left the room and returned to your vanity, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had changed. His words lingered with you, throwing you off balance.

You gathered your things and changed into your regular clothing, clocking out at the back door. As you were about to leave, Sal stopped you and handed you a wad of cash.

“Here,” he said, “for the private room.”

You’d been so caught up in the moment with Clay that you hadn’t even stopped to think about the fact that you didn’t get a single dollar from him.

You thumbed through the cash, expecting to see the usual earnings of maybe $50 or so. Your eyes widened as you counted out $1,000.

He’d tipped you that much? What kind of man was he?

Normally, you didn’t any of the customers a second thought once you were away from work, but this one wouldn’t worm his way out of your head.

Damn these men and their pretty words and ideas of love and fate. That was a life you had left behind.

Once you’d returned home to your apartment, you showered the day off of your skin and changed into more comfortable clothing. You made yourself a quick dinner before settling into your couch and flicking the television on.

The screen lit up in the middle of some story on a celebrity gossip channel. You were only half listening as you ate your food, your mind still reeling from the events that had occurred with the handsome stranger. You couldn’t shake that something still felt so familiar about him.

Your ears perked up at the sound of a name that struck a chord deep within you. Your jaw dropped as you glanced up at the screen, seeing those dazzling blue eyes and his crinkled smile.

The reporters voice rang out about the youngest CEO Manhattan had ever seen as your heart sank to your feet.

Holy shit.

The handsome stranger was Clay fucking Beresford.