Chapter Three Isla
A s I eyed my reflection in the mirror, I tried hiding my disgust at the voluptuous bombshell that stared back at me. Brooke had gone above and beyond when it came to making me flawless for my audition. She worked tirelessly until my blonde hair cascaded in loose waves down to my butt.
Then she started on my makeup. She’d given me fluffy eyelashes and glittering eyelids with purple eyeshadow that matched my sequined purple bustier and g-string set.
Frowning, I surveyed my bright red lips. “Are you sure the lipstick isn’t a bit too much?”
Brooke shook her head. “The stage lights will wash you out. You want your lips to show up above all else. You want them thinking of your lips around their dick.”
“Ugh, seriously?”
With a roll of her eyes, Brooke replied, “And there’s yet another reason why I can’t believe you think you’re going to be a stripper.”
“ Dancer .”
“Semantics.”
“Just because I don’t want to think about random dudes' dicks doesn’t mean I can’t be a stripper.”
Rolling her eyes, Brooke replied, “Seriously? The whole job is thinking about dudes and their dicks.”
“Whatever. Can I get dressed now?”
“One sec.” Brooke then spritzed a setting spray on my makeup. “Now you’re good.”
I pulled on a wrap dress over my sparkling undies. When I was done, I slipped on a pair of what I liked to call my power heels. When you’re barely 5’3, you need all the help you can get.
When I hurried out of the bathroom, Brooke was waiting with a bag that contained my stripper heels, a replacement bustier and g-string for the audition in case something broke or ripped, and my makeup bag for touch-ups.
Without a word, we both nodded and then started out into the hallway. Brooke’s best friend, Jennie, was taking care of Henry while we were gone. She bounced him in her arms outside my room.
“What do you think of your auntie Isla?” I cooed. His eyes widened before his lip quivered. “Oh no. It’s just me, sweet pea.”
An indignant howl erupted from him. “Great. I just traumatized him with my slutty look.”
“Yes, I’m sure this will be the day he talks about in therapy instead of his jackass of an absentee father,” Brooke teased.
I laughed. “Smartass.”
We then pounded down the stairs. As we hurried into the kitchen, I grabbed the keys. Holding them out to Brooke, I asked, “Can you drive?”
“Sure.”
As we headed out of the kitchen and into the garage, I said, “When we get there, you can just wait for me in the car.”
“Screw that. I’m coming in with you.”
I rolled my eyes as I opened the passenger side door. “There’s no way in hell they’re going to let you come in. You aren’t twenty-one.”
A wicked gleam flashed in Brooke's eyes as she dug her wallet out of her purse. “But my ID says that I am.”
With a shriek of horror, I snatched the card out of her hand. “Where did you get this?”
Shrugging, she replied, “A friend of a friend.”
After eyeing the front and the back, I said, “This is a really good quality one.”
Brooke nudged me playfully. “And how would you know, Saint Isla?”
I snorted. “I might be slightly angelic, but I’m sure as hell not a saint.”
“You disappoint me. I never imagined a sister of mine would have a fake ID.”
“What if I told you I got it to be able to get into high-tech labs, rather than for alcohol?”
Brooke threw her head back with a laugh. “Now that sounds like you.”
“Whatever.” With a flick of my wrist, I handed her back the ID. “Come on. Let’s go.”
After she shoved her ID back in her wallet, Brooke walked around the front of my car. When she got in and cranked up, I willed the rising bile in my throat not to spew all over the dashboard.
To get my mind off of the audition, I started playing with the radio–pinging between True Crime and The Life Scientific podcasts. By the time we arrived in front of Alainn , I fought to keep from having a panic attack.
After Brooke flicked on the blinker to head into the parking garage, she turned to look at me. “Just say the word, and we’ll Thelma and Louise it out of here.”
A laugh burst from me. It certainly lightened my mood. “No. I’m doing this.”
“You look like you’re about to piss your pants.”
“Maybe they’ll have a Golden Shower kink.”
It was Brooke’s turn to burst out laughing. “Now you’re talking like a stripper.”
“ Dancer .”
She gave me a genuine smile. “Semantics.”
My expression grew serious. “I’m doing this, B. I’m doing it so that one day I’ll be Dr. Vaughn and debt free from student loans. Not to mention, you’ll be a college graduate, and Henry will be well-adjusted and happy.”
Although tears sparkled in Brooke’s eyes, she replied, “And it will all be from you flashing your tits and dry humping.”
Once again, I laughed. “Damn straight.”
“Then let’s do this.”
After we parked, we crossed the street and arrived in front of the club. When we got to the front door, a beefy bouncer eyed us with disinterest. “Um, hi, I’m Isla Vaughn, and I have an audition.”
Turning his head, he spoke into the radio on his shoulder. “Paula, you have an audition here.”
“Send her in,” crackled the reply.
When Brooke started to follow me, he stopped her. “I need to see your ID.”
While my heart started beating out of my chest, Brooke appeared cool as a cucumber. “Sure. Just one sec.”
As she dug into her purse, I pinched my lips shut. The last thing I needed right now was to let my nerves cause me to verbally vomit. With complete self-assurance, Brooke handed him her ID.
I sucked in a breath as the bouncer studied it curiously. He glanced between it and Brooke. “Fine. You can go in.”
She flashed him a sugary-sweet smile. “Thanks.”
Grabbing her arm, I dragged her behind me into the club. When we swept through the entrance and into the main room, we both gasped. Part of the allure of Alainn was anonymity, so there weren’t any pictures of the interior online.
I’d had an image in my mind of what I imagined it looked like, which was based on club scenes from movies. I couldn’t possibly have envisioned the crystal chandeliers, white linen table cloths, and high-end furniture.Men in expensive tailored suits passed us, blinding us with their shiny Rolex’s.
“Holy shit, this place is posh,” Brooke remarked.
“It sure is.”
“Isla?” a voice behind me questioned.
I whirled around to see an attractive woman in her mid-forties staring expectantly at me. Nodding, I replied, “Yes, I’m Isla.”
She extended her hand. “I’m Paula. We spoke on the phone.”
“It’s nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” Her gaze flicked to Brooke. “And you are?”
Just as I was about to answer my sister, Brooke flashed her a megawatt smile, “Her stylist.”
A nervous laugh bubbled from my lips. “She’s my sister.”
Paula smiled. “I can see the resemblance. Your stylist/sister will need to stay at the bar. We can’t have non-employees in the back with our dancers.”
Brooke nodded. “Sounds good.” As she started for the bar, she shot me an intense look. “You’ve got this.”
“Thanks,” I whispered.
With Brooke heading over to the bar, Paula motioned me to follow her. We weaved in and out of the crowd. I tried not to flinch at each pair of breasts that were practically thrust in my face.
Instead, I drew my shoulders back and strode behind Paula like half-naked women were just another Tuesday occurrence.
When we entered the Employee Only entrance, I fought to keep the surprise off my face at how high-brow the dressing room was with the same marble floors as in the main room. I felt like I was stumbling around a mansion rather than a strip club.
Paula unlocked the first door on the right side of a long hallway of rooms. When we stepped inside a small stage with a pole sat in the middle of the room along with expensive looking leather couches.
“So, here’s what is going to happen. First, you’ll work the pole and do your dance for me. For the second part, one of the owners will do the private dance part of your audition.”
Inwardly I groaned at the mention of the private dance. It was the bane of my existence and what I feared would screw up my chances. Forcing a smile to my face, I replied, “Sounds good.”
“Great. You can step into the bathroom over there to get ready. Then when you come out, we’ll start.”
Unable to speak, I merely nodded. On shaky legs, I made my way over to the bathroom. I didn’t know why the marble tile floors and counters surprised me.
After stripping out of my dress, I didn’t bother glancing at my reflection. Instead, I just turned out the light and left the bathroom.
It was do or die time.