Chapter 13
Cipriana
I tentatively follow the two other dancers to the nook by the bar, feeling Britta’s eyes glued to my back. What in the hell am I even going to do up there? Staring at the stage scares the shit out of me.
Thinking back to a vacation in Saint Lucia when I was in college, some of my girlfriends and I took a pole dancing class for all of forty-five minutes.
That’s about the extent of my training. We laughed and goofed off, because, like, who would ever think a bunch of law students would need to take it seriously?
Well, here I am.
If Jacky saw me now…
I duck under the bar into the nook, feeling like I’m crossing the closet threshold in Narnia to some sexualized sleezy world where men throw paper at ladies’ goods.
What else can I do but follow suit in removing my see-through covering in a provocative way, following the lead of the other two girls?
“Hi, Misty. I’m Nina.” She gives me a tiny pat on the backside.
“Oh, is that how we greet? Hi, Nina.” I pat her right back, and she giggles at me. Her cosmetic work would be distracting in sunlight, I think. Exaggerated duck lips and balloon-like breasts float her up the stairs to the stage, while I trail behind.
“Don’t be nervous. Our patrons are pretty nice.” Nina grabs onto the pole and flips herself upside down with her legs spread. “And if you shake it right up here, the private dances will make you a small fortune.” She begins shaking her ass while slowly lowering herself down to the floor.
My eyes are wide with… envy?
Not sure if it’s degrading or talented. Probably a bit of both.
I’m so unlike the two voluptuous women, that I feel like a different species entirely. All of this distraction is helping though. I forgot for a second that I was on stage, with at least thirty sets of eyes on me from all angles.
Channel Misty.
Okay… haven’t twerked in a while, but my friends always said my 23andMe results would be part Caribbean. Hold onto that confidence, Misty.
Oh God.
Oh God.
Trino’s taking a seat in the middle section with a wide grin on his face.
Dad always said to picture the crowd naked. Maybe in this case, it’ll help.
I jump high on the pole, doing my best to remember the basic moves our Saint Lucia instructor taught us.
On my first rotation, I glimpse Britta whispering something to Ruby, then wrap one leg around the pole and let go of one hand, giving full view of my toned backside.
I’m more cheerleader than stripper right now. I can feel it in my non-sexiness.
When I clack down to the floor, the pole-burn is already rashing up my leg, but I bite back the pain and do a little twerk for Trino.
Keeping my eyes half closed to communicate ‘bitch’ will hopefully keep these guys interested.
Not because I want the attention. But I have to fit in to survive, right?
Another glance at Nina shows her using the pole to slowly grind on. Yes! I can do that!
I start to rub my legs as I back into mine – wishing now that I brought sanitizer and paper towels before giving it some love. Teasing my hands up my thighs while holding this RBF is my only move right now.
Trino’s eyes are following me. I don’t know if it’s charity points or what, but that same feral look when we were being naughty returns. It’s a nice injection of confidence. But when I turn to show my backside, and glimpse Nina and Arora taking off their tops, I freak.
No! I can’t do that!
Stay cool, Capri—I mean, Misty .
You are not taking your tits out for everyone to see. No way .
Arora starts climbing her pole again, flips upside down, and clacks her heels together, splaying her legs wide and straight – how is she getting her ass to jiggle like that?
– sliding all the way to the floor. Suddenly my seductive slow dance doesn’t seem to be cutting it.
Her big breasts are out and rolling everywhere.
Okay, I know. I’ll tease that I’m taking off my top.
With a whip of my head and stomp of my foot, I pull attention again while playing with the strings of my outfit. Puckering my lips while holding my breasts teases Trino. He still seems into it, but in the back of my head, the Plastics are having a field day with my lacking performance. I know it.
When I grab the pole to go for another spin, I’m internally begging the announcer to call us off stage. How long is this freakin’ song? Wait, the song changed twice since I started!
I spin all the way to the floor this time, popping my ass up and down like I did once in the hotel on that same bachelorette party. Cannot believe I’m doing this .
As I emulate a sexual version of the cat-cow yoga pose, I spin to see another woman strutting up to Trino. Oh, no you don’t, bitch! She frames his face, which makes me gasp.
Are you serious?
His head turns and my character breaks. I want to crawl to the end of the stage and lunge at her.
The heck is coming over me?
Push her away, Trino. My jaw clenches as she whispers something in his ear.
He wouldn’t make me look like a fool. He wouldn’t get up and leave me hanging while introducing me as his girl. He wouldn’t—
I gasp again when he gets up to follow her toward the private area.
Prick!
Giggles resound from Britta’s section. I can’t bear to look. I’m mortified, defeated, and want to crawl under that nook and stay there for the rest of the night.
“Nina, Arora, and Misty, everybody!” the announcer says. “Show some green appreciation for our hot starlets!”
Come to think about it, no one made it rain on stage. There’re only a few stray dollars here and there. Then again, it is Sunday. But it doesn’t make me feel any less cheap.
There’s a lump in my throat the size of Alaska as I exit the stage.
“You did good, hunnie.” Nina pats my butt again.
“Thanks. I have a lot to learn,” I admit, showing vulnerability against my strategy. I’m broken considering Trino left in the middle of my dance. Broken .
To think I was starting to trust him.
Yeah, so much for my dark knight.
“Where’s the bathroom?” I ask Nina, pulling my see-through shawl over my arms in a vain attempt to feel clothed.
“Straight over there where you came in, on the right.” She points.
I’m careful to go the opposite way around the bar to avoid the Plastics, so I can cry in relative peace. All the symptoms are rushing into my face. Loose dripping in my nose, dry throat, watery eyes.
Trino, you prick!
As soon as I swing the door open to a dirty black-tile bathroom, I realize I’m at rock bottom.
Thankfully there’s no one around me. Looking in the mirror, there’s an instant where I think I’m hot, but it’s overwhelmed by failure.
In just two days , I’ve been thrown into a tornado and spat out into the underworld.
At least I had an enforcer to guide me through it. Now I’m alone.
Tears roll down my face, threatening my makeup.
He’s going to be with a different girl every night. I’m just for show, for his dad. Dammit.
The hell with whatever danger I’m in. I’m taking an Uber to his house. I’ll sleep on the grass in the backyard. Anything is better than this.
I carefully wipe my eyes and sniff back my tears. “Get a hold of yourself, Capri. Let’s get the hell out of here.”
Just as I’m fixing myself to leave, the door swings open to Britta and Ruby waltzing in.
“Nice moves, Misty.” Britta rubs my arm once. “You should do a round at the bar to see if any guys want a round two in private.”
“Wasn’t expecting that ass to shake like that.” Ruby winks. “You held Daddy’s attention.”
“’Til you didn’t.” Britta opens her mouth while reapplying lip gloss. “Don’t let it sting though. It’s always been that way.”
I don’t know what to feel right now, or which persona to use, so I’m just going to say something awkward and get the fuck outta’ Dodge.
“Thanks, ladies. Break a leg up there.” I pull the door open before they can continue, and head straight for the exit.
Pushing open the double doors abruptly has both bouncers in a tiff.
“Whoa, Misty, hold on there.” The big almond-colored man grabs my arm.
“Excuse me?” I eye his hand, aghast, and he immediately loosens his grip.
“Does the boss know you’re leaving mid-shift?” He tilts his head.
“He’s not my warden.” I whip my arm free and stomp away. Mumbling is at my back, but I don’t care. I’m out .
Just as soon as I’m about to turn my GPS back on, I notice a yellow cab. Even though I’m mad, I really don’t want to risk being tracked by the wrong people.
I have no money or credit card though. Looking down to my see-through covering, I’m reminded at how ridiculous the situation is.
A balding handsome man is staring at me through the window of his SUV. Sirens are going off in my head that this might turn into Capri-is-stuffed-into-a-suitcase scenario, but I can’t go back there. There’s prude girl repellent all over that building. Get. Me. Out.
My legs carry me to the cab, and just as I get in to shut the door, I see both bouncers running after me.
“Go, please!” I tap the cabby’s shoulder.
“Yes, ma’am,” his thick Russian accent makes me frightened that I ran into the arms of another mobster, but when he stops at the first red light and turns to me, I see that he’s harmless in his expression.
“I do not know which way to turn to get to ‘go,’ pretty lady.”
“Ha! Hightown Street, Water’s Edge, please.”
“Coming right up.” He flicks the left blinker. “Might I ask how a dancer as pretty as you is leaving Star Dust before eleven p.m.? No way you work the day shift.”
“Is that what you say to all the dancers you drive home?”
“Only the pretty ones.” He cackles. “You no seem like the others.”
“I’m coming to realize we’re not so different. Just trying to survive.” I look out the window.
My phone is buzzing like crazy, to the point where I’m tempted to look. I flip it over to see Trino’s number blinking over and over again. Text messages, calls. I guess his private dance is over.
I sniff to myself haughtily, then gasp when I go to read a message, and my phone goes black. Shit! It died.