Chapter 15
MARIETTA
“You sure you’re all right alone?” I ask Carol as I shimmy into the short leather skirt I borrowed from Celia. Nobody else is here to dress me. I’m choosing on my own.
Carol presses her hands to her belly. “I’m fine. The kids are fed. I can get them to bed.”
It’s not often the clubhouse is as empty as tonight, but Iron Jack called up the entire Wild Hair on a protection gig. Even Betz and Celia went along as scouts. Only Merrick isn’t with them since he has to tend to the bar.
As a house mouse, I don’t do outside work. I’m strictly here for the clubhouse.
But because of that, I get to drive myself to the Leaky Skull to help Merrick for the first time. I know Diesel won’t be there either since he has class. And of course, Vicki’s gone. I’m taking her shift.
So, it will be me and Jake and one of the kitchen workers. Plus customers, if they count.
I think it’s the most alone I can get right now with him.
“I might have a bra that will help you,” Carol says, pushing herself up from her recliner.
“Oh, don’t get up,” I tell her.
“I have to pee anyway.”
She heads to her dresser and rummages through a colorful array of underwear. “Here we go.” She pulls out a small black number. “I haven’t worn this in a decade.” She passes it to me.
It’s a B cup, but half the cup is padded, so everything gets pushed to the top. “I’ll give it a go,” I say.
She heads for the bathroom. I duck into her closet for a minute, whipping off my silvery tank top. I drop the thin, fairly useless black bra I had on and slide into Carol’s.
I immediately feel the lift. I look down. I have cleavage! At least a little.
The tank goes back on smoothly. I pull it low to show off the bit of shadow between my boobs. Look at that!
When I come out, Carol is back in her chair.
“It works!” I tell her.
Carol smiles. “It looks good on you. Keep it. I’ll never fit in it again.”
I lean down to hug her. “Thank you! I’m going to put this other one away, and then, I’m off!”
“Be careful,” Carol says. “Make Merrick walk you to your car after. I doubt any Wild Hair will get a chance to go to the bar tonight.”
I pause. “Do you know what they’re doing exactly? I’ve never seen everyone gone at once.”
She shrugs. “The Wild Hair will always tell you what you need to know.”
Interesting. I practically skip my way to the bunkhouse room. It doesn’t matter that I don’t know what the gig is. There will be no Wild Hair at the bar. It will be a light crowd.
What might happen?
I zip through with the thrill of possibilities.
The drive from the clubhouse to the Leaky Skull is quick. The parking lot is almost empty. Even better!
When I step inside, only two tables are taken. Jake waves before walking to the kitchen. Merrick leans forward on the bar, his hands clasped together.
I tug on the bottom of my tank, making sure my new cleavage is visible. The skirt is so short that the bottom of the shirt almost reaches the hem.
Since I’m working, I skipped the heels and put on fringed ankle boots. I feel good. It’s fun to wear sexy clothes rather than T-shirts and jeans all the time. I get why people do it.
Especially when you have cleavage!
“I guess I should walk around,” I say to Merrick. “Or do I stay on this side of the bar?”
“Either one,” he says. “Let me show you where to stow your purse.”
I follow him through the kitchen door. Jake is back there, talking to a cook who is frying a batch of tater tots.
“This is Marietta,” Merrick says. “You know Jake. This is Neil, who helps in the kitchen, especially when Scottie is out.”
Right, Scottie is Wild Hair and off with Iron Jack.
Neil gives me a nod and shakes the metal basket in the hot oil. He’s probably in his thirties, heavyset, and he wears a wrinkled white apron over a T-shirt and sweatpants.
“I didn’t realize you cooked many things here,” I say.
Merrick shrugs. “Just pub food. Fries. Fried chips.”
“Fried cheese,” Jake says.
“I make burgers, too,” Neil says. “If you get hungry.” He doesn’t look up from the oil.
“Come on. We’ll put your purse in the office,” Merrick says.
“I’ll watch the bar.” Jake heads for the swinging door.
I follow Merrick to the same office where Symphony and I had to wait for the furor to die down after I flashed the bar months ago. My cheeks heat, remembering that night.
Of course, he won’t want me to dance for the club. They were out of control after that.
But I don’t have to strip. I can just dance. Maybe I should mention that.
“I don’t have to get naked,” I say as we enter his office.
He whirls around. “What?”
I realize I’m talking completely out of context. “Not now, I mean. I’m not talking about now.”
He’s even more confused. “What?”
“I mean, if you get a pole. I don’t have to striptease. I mean, I will if you want me to. I mean, if you want it to happen for the club. Oh, gosh.” I’m really messing this up.
“Maybe start over?” He takes my purse from me, drops it into a drawer of his desk, and then locks it.
“I’m remembering that when I flashed the club, it got out of hand. I was thinking that if you were worried about me stripping on the pole, I wouldn’t have to do that. I could just dance.”
Merrick perches on the edge of his desk, his arms crossed over his chest. “They might expect you to strip. That’s typical at a bar.”
“Do you think that would be safe?” I gesture to the office. “Symphony and I got stuck back here just for a quick flash.”
His gaze shifts to the top of my tank. My cleavage! It exists! Then back to my face. “I was mainly giving you a place to practice away from the club. We can figure out the public part of it later, and only if we want to.”
“You mean … after hours?”
“Sure. It would be safe here. Lots of space.”
“But I’m always escorted by Wild Hair.”
“I could be your escort when you practice.”
My body starts to heat. “Like for class.”
He nods, his gaze holding mine. “But only us.”
“Just us.” Now, I’m on fire.
“I enjoy watching you,” he says. “You’re good.”
“I am?”
“Really good.” His eyes drift down, taking in my tank top, the short skirt, and my legs. “What would you wear to practice?”
I manage to swallow. “Something like I had on before. Unless you wanted me to put on something else.”
“You have lots of dancing outfits?”
“I picked up a few. Most of them are athletic wear, but …” My cheeks pink up at the thought of the first outfit I bought when I performed my embarrassingly bad audition at a strip club.
“But?”
“I bought a thing. A different thing once.”
“Tell me about it.”
My breath is shallow. “I, uh, chose red. To, you know, stand out.”
“Did you?”
“Yeah. It’s, uh, sort of sparkly.”
“Red and sparkly.”
“It is sort of … small.”
“Is it?” He quirks a tiny smile.
“Yeah, it’s a wire around here,” I point across my rib cage. “And two red circles here.” I gesture to my chest.
“How big are those circles?” he asks.
I make a circle with my finger and thumb, not much more than a quarter.
His eyebrows lift. “That’s small.”
“The bottom is sort of … not much. Just a string with a tiny triangle here.” I point toward the middle of my skirt.
“Do you like wearing it?” he asks.
I swallow hard. “I might like wearing it … for you.”
He inhales sharply, his chest moving out. “I see.”
“Should I do that? Bring it?”
His Adam’s apple bobs. “All right.”
“When you have the pole, of course.”
He nods. “I’ll let you know when.”
We stand there for a moment. I’m not sure if he’s picturing me in this outfit. I know I am. And how he might look at me. I remember his gaze in the mirror at the studio.
He pushes away from the desk. “Come on. Let’s show you the ropes.”
I follow him out, my entire body on fire.
But honestly, I can’t wait.