Chapter 17
Mila
“I just don’t understand why you can’t work here anymore,” Lainey says as I clean out my locker.
Although I am supposed to keep things a secret, I’ve decided that I am telling Lainey everything.
Except for the being pregnant part. As much as I love her, I’m just not ready to talk about that yet. I haven’t even been to the doctor.
“I guess billionaires don’t date waitresses,” I say as I look at the wig that has been a signature part of my uniform for a while now. Funny how we hold a candle for things we once despised after they no longer belong to us.
“Dom’s a billionaire?” she asks. “I mean, I knew he was rich, but…damn.”
“Yeah,” I say before biting my lip. “It’s wild. All of it’s wild.”
“Too bad it’s not real,” she says with a sigh.
“What do you mean?” I ask as I drop the wig into the box with the other things.
“Well, you said the relationship is just a ruse so he can access his inheritance, right? You get to be his girlfriend and eventually his wife, but it’s all fake,” she says. “I guess I don’t know if I’d be good at that.”
“At what? At living in a rich man’s house and enjoying the benefits?” I ask.
“At kissing him and not falling in love,” she says, and I laugh.
“I’m not worried about that,” I tell her. “I may have a crush on him, but I’m not too worried about falling in love with him.”
“How do you figure?” she asks.
“Because I know him, and he’s kind of a jerk. All we do is fight half the time,” I say. I look at the boxer shorts and tank top before apprehensively throwing them in the box too.
“That’s called flirting,” she says.
“It’s called annoying,” I say. “Also, in case you forgot, I’ve already slept with the man, and I know I’m not in love with him.”
“Maybe, maybe not. Maybe you’re just in denial,” she says. “Either way, it’s going to be pretty hard swimming in his pool every day, being wined and dined every evening, and getting busy in the bedroom every night.”
“That’s not part of the agreement,” I tell her, closing the locker.
“Sex? You’re going to marry the man and you aren’t going to bang him?” she asks.
I shake my head. “The rules of our engagement are that we have no physical relationship behind closed doors.”
“Well then, do it outside. I hear beach sex is fun, though I’d bring a blanket,” she winks. I just shake my head.
“I’m serious, Lainey, we’re not going to have sex,” I tell her.
“Why not? I mean, I think that would be a great perk to all of this.”
“Because that was a one-time thing,” I say. “Because if we had sex, it would complicate things.”
“Why?”
“Because…it just would,” I say, unable to think of a reason.
“You know what I think…”
We both turn to see Brynn standing by the door of the locker room.
“Have you been eavesdropping this whole time?” Lainey asks, but Brynn ignores her.
“I think that if you and Dom have this little scheme going, the playing field needs to be even,” she says.
“What do you mean?” Lainey asks with narrowed eyes.
“Yeah, what do you mean?” I ask. I didn’t know she was standing there, listening to everything we were saying. I had no intention of telling anyone but Lainey about the fake relationship. I am curious about what she has to say, though.
“So he has to be married to access his inheritance,” she starts, opening her locker to get ready. “And he chose you. Interesting choice in my opinion, but to each his own.”
Lainey snorts and shakes her head.
“Are you interested in my opinion or not?” Brynn asks.
“I’m not interested in what you think about anything,” Lainey says, and I hold up a hand.
“What are your thoughts?” I ask. “Since you know the situation. You have a lot more experience around men like him than I do,” I say.
“The way I see it, Dom is using you to get what he wants. It’s not easy dating men like him,” Brynn says.
“You would know, you are the town bicycle,” Lainey smiles and Brynn flips her off.
“I used to date Rafe,” she says, and I stop.
“You did?”
She nods and sits down on the bench. “It was short, hot and…a mistake. If you think wearing a wig at the bar and pretending to like getting your ass smacked every time you turn around is a full-time job, just wait. Being arm candy isn’t as sweet a deal as you may think.
It’s all about them, and how good you make them look. There’s zero gratification for you.”
“So, what are you suggesting?” I ask.
“Make him want you,” she says with a smirk.
“Jesus,” Lainey shakes her head.
“Don’t you have a shift to start?” Brynn asks her. Lainey looks at her phone, then rolls her eyes.
“Don’t be a stranger,” Lainey says, hugging me.
“We’ll talk every day, I promise,” I tell her, and she reluctantly walks out, leaving Brynn and me alone.
“So you can’t have him. Fine. But you can make him wish he could have you,” she says. Then she grabs my hand and pulls me out the door. We head to the back, through the hall and to the ring. The room is dark, but she flips on all the lights and then hops through the ropes.
“Well, come on,” she waves to me.
“What are we doing in here?” I ask.
But Brynn doesn’t answer me. She just smiles and pulls her phone out. After two clicks, a song comes on over the P.A. system. It’s a song I know, from going out with the girls. I think it’s called Tipsy. Still, that doesn’t really explain why we are here.
Suddenly, Brynn starts dancing. It’s a routine with overly exaggerated moves. Something you’d see on a stage…possibly at a strip club. It’s not the kind of dance I typically do, but I’m intrigued.
When the song ends and the room is quiet again, Brynn is frozen in a pose, smiling down at me.
“What…was that?” I ask.
“That,” she says, lowering her arms and standing up straight. “Was a Ring Girl routine.”
“A Ring Girl routine? For what?” I ask.
“There are 5 of us. Never more, never less. Unfortunately, with you no longer being allowed to work here anymore, we’re out one. We can handle it on the floor, but our dance routines need a fifth person,” she says.
“I didn’t know Ring Girls danced,” I say.
“Between matches from time to time, yes. It keeps the guys in their seats, especially if the fighter they’re putting money on is losing,” she tells me.
I hate the idea of it. I took tap, ballet, and jazz dance classes, not twerking.
“What’s in it for the dancers?” I ask.
Brynn hops down and circles me. “Hundreds of dollars raining down on us during the routine, and even more shoved into our shorts. That’s what’s in it for us,” she says. “Now, come on.”
“What…why? You want me to dance?” I ask.
“Why not? Don’t you like dancing?” she asks.
Brynn puts the song on loop, and we head to the Ring floor. It only takes about ten minutes for me to learn the routine, and she cheers.
“Damn, girl. You catch on fast!”
“I may or may not have been an aspiring dance major,” I tell her.
“Ballet?” she asks.
“Among other styles. What gave it away?” I ask.
“Aside from what you just did up here?” she asks. “The way you walk.”
I nod. “I guess it never leaves you,” I say.
But then I turn to her. “What’s this got to do with me and Dominic?”
“You said you wanted to play him at his own game. I’m pretty sure this would do the trick. If you were up on that stage, you’d drive him wild. Especially if he can’t have you after. Per his own rules.”
I snort. “Yeah, except you forgot one thing. I don’t work here anymore. I can’t work here anymore. Per his rules.”
“Not as a waitress. He never said you can’t get a side hustle dancing…” she says, smiling while pressing the tip of her tongue to her teeth.
“No,” I say after a moment. “No, he did not.”