Chapter 4 Gracie Mae
Gracie Mae
Iabsolutely loathe my job with a fiery passion but who doesn't? I feel like that's the one thing that universally all of us can agree on.
But my job at Fantasy, the local run down grimy strip club, has to take the icing on the universal I hate my fucking job cake.
It's not that I have anything against strippers because believe me I don't. A girl has to do what a girl has to do to make money. And hell, some girls just fucking enjoy it. You know what, good for them.
Except stripping here could never be described as enjoyable. Not with our clientele or how the staff treats the girls. Especially the creepy perverted boss man.
He lets anything slide in the private rooms and I do mean anything.
It's incredibly disgusting what he makes these poor women do. And the saddest part is they don't have a choice. They need the money more than they need their pride.
That's something I can relate to.
I haven't stripped up on the pole yet.
Our boss, Rick, keeps pestering me about it. It's the reason why he hired me. In hopes that one day he would see my body work the pole like it was my very own vibrator.
Like I said, he's fucking disgusting and dreadfully crude but like all the other girls here I put up with his perverted sick mind because I need this job.
Steven, the social worker who comes to our trailer once a week to check up on the living conditions for Connor, specifically told me I need to make more money to be financially stable to gain full custody.
I only work as a barmaid here. Compared to the strippers the money I make amounts to practically nothing.
All the money I could make on tips goes to them.
Men don't come here to spend their money on the barmaid who is serving the liquor cheap to keep them buying.
They spend their money on the girl who is fucking the pole or giving them favors.
So forgive me if I have entertained the thought once or twice on going up on that stage myself.
My pride is too big to ask for money from Alice and the members of Vipers MC but not big enough to strip for easily eager men.
I suppose in this town a person could do worse.
"You're looking blue, cupcake," Sasha, one of the strippers says to me.
Sasha is a beautiful woman. No, she's actually stunning.
With a deep skin tone, wild black vivacious curls any girl would be jealous of, full sensuous lips, and eyes the color of amber Sasha is a vision.
Her long legs are accentuated even more by the seven inch heels she has on.
They have ribbons that tie all the way up her muscular calves.
It always struck me odd how a stunning girl like her could be from this same crime ridden seedy town like me. You look at Sasha and become hypnotized. Jaw goes slack with awe and you can't formulate one thought. Men want her and women want to be her.
"And what color am I usually?" I tease knowing all too well the reason why I am looking blue.
She places a hand on her hip. "Red."
"Red," I echo.
She nods her head. "Fiery and sassy with a heart that bleeds with love. You're red, cupcake. And blue doesn't look good on you. Now tell me what has you so blue."
I wave a hand in dismissal. "It's nothing really."
She raises a brow at me and purses her lips.
Giving in without much of a fight to begin with I tell her. "I had a talk with the social worker who is assigned to Connor. I have to make more money otherwise I won't be able to file for custody."
Her amber eyes fill with sympathy. "What are you thinking?"
"You're going to laugh at me."
"And why would I do that?"
I bite my lip nervously. Fuck. Okay. Just say it. "I'm thinking about stripping.” My voice is as small as a mouse.
"Why would I laugh at you for that? I strip and you have never once judged me for it."
Okay, fair point. "But you look like an actual goddess, Sasha. And if I went up on that pole I wouldn't know what to do. When you're up there it's not cheap or sleazy. You make it an art form. A performance."
"Now don't tell me you don't see how fucking beautiful you are. Gracie Mae you are a bombshell," she compliments me. "You have the body of Marylin Monroe and that woman was the epitome of sex."
Hearing her compliment me boosts my ego. Not that I ever had a problem with it. I know how I look. I know the body I have. But hearing it come from Sasha? Well, that's the highest fucking compliment.
"Doesn't mean I can work a pole."
Her eyes roll to the back of her head. "Anyone can work a pole, cupcake. It's called confidence. I've seen you shake that ass of yours. You got moves. If it's something you really want to do I can teach you."
I almost choke on my own saliva. "You would teach me?"
"Have to learn from the best to be one of the best."
"You're not going to talk me out of it?"
"You're a grown woman. Just don't do anything you are uncomfortable with. And don't let Rick or any of the men that come in here take advantage of you. If you want to strip then strip but it has to be on your terms."
A gust of relief expels from my lips. At least I know if I do decide to strip I'll have the support of the strongest woman here. "You're a good person, Sash."
"I'm good to those who are good to me. You know I have your back."
"Ditto."
She smiles, a mischievous one with playful eyes. "So," she begins lowly, "when am I teaching you?"
I laugh, playfully bumping her on the side. "Not yet but I'll let you know."
Sasha has another twenty minutes before it's her time to be up on the stage.
Right now Cindy is performing and her performance is lackluster.
Once you see a performance by Sasha everyone else's pales in comparison.
But it also doesn't help that Cindy is stoned out of her mind and tripping in her stripper heels.
I turn away from the train wreck of a sight and walk back behind the bar. The liquor here isn't the best but it's also not the worst. Everything is simple and easy. No fancy drinks. No fancy orders. Most of the time the men just order beer anyways. My job is easy but it also doesn't pay enough.
"Holy fucking hell if they aren't the two finest men I've ever seen," I hear Sasha whistle with appreciation.
And there is something in me that has me rooted to the spot. I'm paralyzed yet the back of my neck tingles and my blood begins to run hot through my veins. Butterflies swarm in my stomach as my heart pounds.
My body is physically aware of him before I even see him.
How is that even fucking possible?
Steadying my breath I will my body to calm the hell down.
When I turn around that's when I see him. And all the breath within me evaporates into thin air.
I don't know if it's right to call a man gorgeous but that's exactly what he is.
He stands nearly at seven feet tall with shoulders that are broad and carries a very muscular frame.
The outline of his impressive muscles are visible from his black shirt that he wears under his Vipers MC cut.
Tattoos cover his skin from his neck, down his arms and peaking out at the top of his tee.
His jaw that is angular is covered by his kept beard.
Plump lips that are kissable are in a firm line.
And his hair, a dirty blonde kept short but with wild long pieces that dangle over his face.
But it's his eyes, those glacier blue eyes that freeze everyone yet they make me melt.
My legs tremble beneath me when he finally lands those blue eyes on me.
Gorgeous.
Oak is absolutely gorgeous.
"Cupcake.” Sasha's voice sounds like it’s in the distance.
"Yeah?" My eyes are still locked on his. Neither one of us have looked away. It's like we physically can't.
"Be careful," she warns me.
Those two words coming from her in a wary tone breaks my stare. I glance over at her and her eyes are on Oak with apprehension.
"What is it?"
Her eyes fleet back to mine. "The big guy," she begins, nodding her head subtly towards him, "his black heart is going to swallow your red whole."
My mouth gapes like a guppy fish and before I can question what made her have that assumption he stands before us.
Greedily I take him in like a woman starved who hasn't had a proper meal in weeks. It's been too long since the last time that I have saw him. And although he remains as gorgeous as he did a month ago there is a difference in him. It's not his famous stoic expression.
"Grace," he says my name in that velvet voice of his with a touch of raspiness. I let his voice caress me like a lovers touch.
The difference isn't in his voice either.
With him up close I can finally take a good hard look in those eyes of his.
Glaciers to everyone else but never to me. There's always been warmth there. A gentleness that begs me to come closer.
And that's where I find the difference.
There's resistance. An effort to keep me at arms length. A harsh edge that wasn't there before. I see conflict yet I don't know what for.
Clearing myself from the haze he induced upon me I place my hand on my hip and level him with a look. "It's Gracie Mae to you, Oak." I mean for it to come out as teasing but I sound wounded.
His Adam's apple bobbles as he swallows thickly. "I thought we were friends," he reasons.
"I thought so, too but friends keep in touch. So until you tell me what has made you disappear and I find it within good reason it's Gracie Mae to you."
I expect amusement to light in his eyes. Even the barest amount but it never comes. Instead I find a pain. A pain that is deep and tormented. And all too soon his eyes go back to ice. Freezing out all emotion.
His eyes drift away from me then. No longer able to look into mine. And I feel a loss because of it.
"Hey, Grace," Snake says his hello and I honestly didn't even realize he's been standing there the whole time. "I'm doing great, thanks for asking," he chirps.
His levity helps ease the tension from Oak and I but it's not enough to break it. "Snake, to what do I owe the pleasure?"
He smiles, not the one one he gives to Alice and her alone but a smile nonetheless.
When he smiles, a genuine one like this, I understand the appeal he has amongst women.
Snake is a ruggedly handsome man. Not classically handsome because there's a rough edge to his beauty. With a sharp jawline dusted with scruff, hazel eyes that can turn dark, a lean muscle build and dirty blonde hair it's hard to deny that he's not attractive.
Alice and him make one drop dead gorgeous pair.
"Alice told you I was dropping by right?"
"She did but didn't tell me what for."
His hand disappears inside his Vipers MC cut that now has a patch that reads, Sergeant at Arms. Then he reveals an envelope addressed to me in Alice's handwriting.
I quirk a brow. "What's this?" He hands the envelope to me and I take it. "Snake?"
"Open it for yourself, Grace. That's what it's addressed to you for."
I roll my eyes muttering under my breath, "Asshole."
"Heard that."
Narrowing my eyes at him I reply, "You were supposed to."
He rolls his eyes back to me with a snicker. "Sure."
Tearing the envelope open my fingers meet the rough texture. I know what it is before I even see it. And I won't accept it. I hand the envelope back towards Snake who has no meaning of taking it back.
He glances down at the envelope outstretched towards him and then at me. "What exactly are you expecting me to do with that?”
"Take it back," I huff out.
"No can do."
"And why not?"
"Because Alice will literally have my balls if I come back with that."
I sigh, partly frustrated, partly exasperated. "Then lie and say you gave it to me."
"Nope.”
"Because?" I hedge.
"Because Alice and I don't lie to each other. About anything." He gives me a pointed look that tells me he's telling the truth. Pointing at the envelope he orders, "Take the money and be grateful."
"Well when you say it like that how can I not be?" I grumble sarcastically.
He then sighs, too and I almost feel bad for giving him shit.
"Alice wants to see you walk off stage with your degree and diploma.
You've earned that." I'm about to object but he continues, "And your brother deserves to see you graduate.
If you don't want to accept the money for yourself then accept it for him. "
Connor, my very own kryptonite.
If there is anything and I do mean anything to be used against me to bend to someone's will it's him and it always works.
I always say that Connor's accomplishments are my own but it would be nice for him to see one of mine.
With a small smile on my face I take the envelope back. "Thank you.”
He nods his head.
A silence falls amongst us. And in that silence my eyes drift back to Oak. He stands there tall and brooding still looking anywhere but at me.
Incredibly and infuriatingly frustrating.
He's here in front of me, here, after he's been avoiding me and he's still trying to avoid me!
Well, fuck that.
Alice is right, I'm not going to allow him to avoid me.
"So," I begin loudly, directing all my attention to him, "it's been awhile hasn't it?"
His eyes cut to mine and then with panic bounce over to Snake.
Snake only gives him a shrug and a face that says, can't help you here.
Then Snake pulls out of his phone and smiles, the smile reserved for only Alice. He then brings the phone to his ear and without excusing himself walks away from us.
And then there's only the two of us.
Try to avoid me now, big guy.