“It’s time.” Max walks into my dressing room as I’m sliding on my skirt.
“Okay.” I nod and pull the zipper tight.
I don’t even flinch when Max walks into my dressing room while I’m getting ready, even if I’m mostly naked. There’s nothing he hasn’t already seen. I never thought I’d have a feeling that lackadaisical, and it’s barely been more than a week since I took the stage for the first time.
I’m definitely losing a piece of myself every time I do it.
Maybe I’ll even learn to enjoy it one day; doubtful, but that hope stokes the flame. If it was easy, I could sleep better at night.
I walk from my dressing room to the stage. I immediately make eye contact with the DJ who gives me a nod.
“Gentlemen, most of you already know her, but every time you get to see her is a treat! She comes to us from Sin City and trust me—she craves every sin you can imagine. Give it up for…” The DJ hits my music just like he does every time I’m ready to take the stage. “The beautiful, vivacious, Lavender Rose!”
He usually introduces me the same way every night. Sometimes there’s a new flair, but it’s rarely noticeable. What is noticeable is the fact I have fans. Guys who are in the club all of the time. They cheer before I make my entrance—before I even walk out into the light. Is it weird to be happy about that? To expect it? To soak in the admiration like I’m a starlet gracing the silver screen?
At least I’m not a disappointment to them.
Their fantasies.
Their desires.
I take the stage, and they pay me for my time, one dollar, five, a ten from someone who doesn’t want to flip money my way for the entirety of my dance. If there’s a twenty, it’s probably from Bill.
I barely look around the club when I dance. I entertain the ones that are close to the stage. The rest of them are just scenery, background noise. I don’t care enough to find out who is watching me anymore. I’m still timid, and the butterflies in my stomach haven’t gone away, but the need to throw up has subsided.
Mainly because I know Bram isn’t going to call my father. If he’s pacified, the rest of it doesn’t really matter that much. I probably won’t even see him again.
I dance until my clothes are strewn around the stage. I give them a glimpse of what they want to see but never more than a tease. I’ve learned enough to keep things interesting so that they still pay to see the girls who come after me.
My trip to the dressing room gets harder every time I leave the stage, because I realize I won’t feel that rush again until the next night.
“Damn, girl…” Rhonda meets me behind the curtain. “You’re getting popular.”
“Hopefully that means more money.” I smile and shrug.
“The real money is going to come when you can take them behind the curtain.” She winks. “Trust me, you’ll understand soon enough.”
“When do you think Max will let me start?” I tilt my head inquisitively and raise my eyebrows. “He said a couple of weeks…”
“Yeah, don’t worry—it’s going to happen,” she says with a grin slowly forming on the edge of her lips. “He’s just getting them all hot and bothered so they pay a premium price.”
I hope she’s right. I’m not really looking forward to being behind the curtain with a guy who can actually put his hands on me without facing consequences. As long as he doesn’t go overboard, but it is means to an end. More money. More of my brother’s debt paid. Less meetings with Mr. Diaz—hopefully, no more meetings that I’m not prepared for—in the dark where his sinister nature seems to flourish.
I decide that it’s time to talk to Max. He normally comes into my dressing room to make sure I haven’t forgotten to serve drinks. I get dressed, fix my makeup, and wait for him.
I’m nervous. The first time he talked about giving lap dances, I was scared to death. Maybe that’s why he decided I should wait. I wasn’t ready. I don’t know if I’m ready now, but Bram showing up at the club reminded me that I’m always one night away from having the wrong person in the audience—someone who wouldn’t think twice about calling my parents.
They’re not in any position to help my brother, and if they put an end to what I’m doing, the result could be tragic.
“Why are you still sitting in your dressing room?” Max walks in, almost on queue. “Get out there and serve some drinks. I need you on the floor.”
“Yes, sir.” I nod and stand. “I was actually waiting on you. Can we talk?”
“Sure, what do you want to talk about?” He narrows his eyes. “I hope you’re not about to quit on me.”
“No.” I shake my head. “I wanted to talk to you about lap dances. I’m ready to start. You heard the reaction tonight. I could make you a lot of money if you let me…”
You. Me. It’s all the same; I just need my cut.
“Yeah, I hear the reaction every night.” He nods. “It’s getting louder. Especially with the regulars.”
“That’s a good thing, right?” My smile gets wider.
“It is.” There is a hint of hesitation in his eyes for a moment, and then it fades. “Okay, fine. I’ll let you do one lap dance. If you do a good job, then I’ll consider letting you work behind the curtain from now on.”
“Thank you!” My enthusiasm is a lot higher than it probably should be. “You remember Bill’s request, right?”
“I do,” Max says. “I’ll let you know when it has been arranged.”
“Perfect.” I glance in the mirror one last time before I walk past him for a quick slap on my ass.
There are things about Max I still find rather revolting, but he’s the king of the castle, and I’m just a pawn.
