Chapter 3
Whitley
As I sit in the back and watch the girls get ready for the night, I think about how what they can do with makeup is amazing. There’s an art to it. I should be getting ready too, but I’m pouting. Normally it doesn’t take me long, but I’m starting to zone out and wallow.
Do I love the strip club? No and yes. The men can be jerks, but I think that’s because I’m not used to men leering at me.
My father’s men never did it, but that was probably because they knew better.
I’m realizing now that I live in the real world without my father looming over me that in his own way, he was protecting me from everything.
Now that Quinn is gone, a sadness has settled deep inside of me.
I think I miss my father. Quinn leaving has played with my head and emotions, but she kept me from really thinking about him.
He wasn’t super affectionate, but he wasn’t cruel.
Keeping me captive wasn’t exactly kind, but I know he did it because he cares about me.
Though I’ve seen pictures of my mother, I can’t remember her.
Whenever I brought her up, my father’s whole mood would change.
He tried to hide his emotions, but I think he really loved her.
So much that when he lost her, he locked me away while also keeping me at arm's length. I’m sure it doesn’t help that when he sees me, he sees parts of her too.
In the pictures of her, there are a few of them together, and he was holding her close in each of them.
The idea of my father cuddling anything sounds odd to me, but I saw it with my own eyes.
If I hadn't, I wouldn't have believed it, but that man died with my mom. Every now and then, he’d give me a rare kiss on the top of my head. What would life have been like if she’d lived?
“Hey, you all right?” Hartley asks, breaking into my pity party.
“I’m fine.”
“Fine is never good, honey,” she laughs. “Don’t be so sad. It’s going to be all right.”
“Is it?” I sink my teeth into my bottom lip.
“Come on.” Hartley grabs my hand and pulls me away from the empty vanity I’m sitting at. “I’ll do your makeup.”
“Really?” I perk up. Hartley is beautiful even without a speck of makeup, but she’s the best at doing it.
“I’m thinking pink and gold.”
“I love pink,” I say, my mood starting to lift.
“You don’t say,” she teases me, because everyone knows I do.
If I ever get an option to pick a color, it’s always pink. Not a bright one, either. Soft, petal pink like the roses I plant in the garden. Planted, I remind myself, and a pang of sadness fills me again.
“I’m going to have your eye shadow match those shoes and sprinkle you in gold. You always remind me of a little fairy flitting around the bar serving drinks.” She’s probably right, because I’m tiny compared to everyone else.
All the girls wear heels but me. You’d think someone who can stand on their toes would be able to wear heels, but they don’t feel right on my feet.
I tried it for a few days because I didn’t have an option since Stowe wasn’t going to let me run around in sneakers.
Then Quinn found pink flats that reminded me of ballet shoes except the ribbon wraps higher up my calf and ties in the back to make them sexier.
“You want to talk about it?” Hartley asks a few minutes into doing my makeup. Now that I’m nice and trapped in the seat. She knew what she was doing, and for the first time I actually answer with the truth.
“Is it weird to run from something and then miss it too?”
“No.” Hartley shakes her head. “It’s normal to miss something that was a big part of your life.” Her eyes narrow. “We’re not talking about an ex, right?”
“No,” I tell her for the millionth time because that’s what everyone always thinks. A few of the girls have tried to get me to spill my secrets, but it isn't as big as they are building it up in their heads. Most of them don’t pry at all because they don’t want anyone doing it to them.
“Shake it up some. Don’t let yourself sink too deep, babe. I know you miss Quinn, but people come and go. You have to find something that’s yours.”
What is mine? Dancing? “Like a person?” I say because that’s what comes rushing forward in my mind.
“Maybe.” Her nose scrunches. “Just not around here.” I fight a laugh and try not to move too much so I don’t mess up her work. “Almost done.” I part my lips for her when she brings a glossy brush to my mouth.
“Whit.” I hear my name called loudly before Stowe comes bursting in through the door. It took me a few weeks to get used to seeing everyone naked all the time, but none of the girls getting ready pay him any attention. “My office.”
“What?” Oh crap. Am I about to be fired?
“Office,” he repeats before he narrows his eyes on my face. “Come on.” He motions for me to get up.
Quickly glancing at the mirror, I see Hartley really has made me look a little bit like a fairy.
Gold flecks sparkle on my cheeks lightly, and I love how she’s lined my eyes.
Giving her a quick thanks, I do as I’m told and hurry to follow Stowe.
His office is right beside where everyone gets ready, so when I walk in, he closes the door behind us.
Stowe and Quinn had a weird relationship. She would go toe to toe with him, but she knew he would never fire her. She and Hartley pulled a huge crowd, but now that she’s gone, is he going to fire me?
“I need you to dance.”
“What?” I’m not sure if that’s worse or better than being fired. Then again, if I say no, I might get fired.
“Not on the stage,” he corrects, and I let out a small sigh of relief. “Private.”
My stomach tightens. “I can’t.”
“Six grand,” he says, and my mouth falls open.
Could this be the same person from before that Quinn mentioned? What if he’s come back and upped his offer?
“It’s just a dance.” He sits on the edge of his desk and levels me with a stare.
“I…ah…” I wring my fingers together, terrified to do this.
“I gave you a job when I really shouldn’t have. I don’t even know if you’re fucking legal.”
“I am!” I blurt out. I’m old enough to drink but only by a little so I keep that to myself.
“I could get shut down. One dance is all I’m asking for.”
“One?” I stare up at Stowe. He’s around my father’s age but wears suits my father wouldn’t wipe his ass with.
“Well, maybe a few dances, but it’s one guy.”
“What room?”
“Not that room.” We both know which one I’m talking about. It’s a very VIP room, and only a few girls work it. That room could get him shut down faster than anything, but I don’t point that out.
“I have nothing to wear.” I motion to my short black skirt and top that fits me like a second skin.
“Don’t think he wants you wearing anything, so it doesn’t matter.”
Right, he wants me to get naked and rub against him for six grand. This place has really killed my fairytale dreams about love. There is no knight in shining armor because I had to break myself out of the castle.
Then Quinn’s words ring in my ears. She’s gone one day, and I’m already wavering on the line I drew.
“You know, I know a guy that makes IDs.”
“What?” That gets my attention. Stowe really knows how to make a deal.
“Not cheap.” He whistles.
Of course not, and I bet I already know the price.
Six grand.