Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 106404 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 532(@200wpm)___ 426(@250wpm)___ 355(@300wpm)
I straighten and turn. “Yes, well, actually I was thinking I’d be Candy…” My voice drifts as she frowns.
“Figure out your name. Also, Mitchell is not usually around. But he’s here for the next couple of weeks. So, let me be frank. No fucking the owner. It makes you look like a whore and it’s not good for morale.” She looks down at her long fake nails that are so pointy I’m sure she uses them as a weapon.
“I’m not fuc—sleeping with him,” I whisper as I look at the other girls.
She stares at me. “Good. See you tomorrow. And Candy?” I take a breath and hope she’ll be easier to deal with the longer I get to know her.
“Yes?”
“Show up a couple hours early and I’ll give you some pointers on how to use the pole.” That surprises me. See? Maybe she’s not a bitch after all.
“Thank you.” I turn and rush downstairs. Leaning against the wall, I close my eyes and let it sink in that I did it.
I freakin’ did it.
For the first time, I have a little hope. Maybe I’ll be able to buy some food for my refrigerator and have money to do laundry. I don’t ask for much—only enough to get by. Opening my eyes, I admire the huge stage as I reach down to unzip my dance bag and pull on some sweatpants.
The décor is super elegant and classy. All the tables are heavy dark wood and the couches are red and soft looking.
I’m excited, and it has zero to do with my boss. The breast he licked tingles. That flutter of adrenaline spikes in my stomach, causing my face to heat up and my core to get slick. This is wrong, so very wrong. He won’t even be around in two weeks. All I need to do is make the money and open a savings account. I’ll never be this poor again.
I roll my neck and notice the large crystal chandelier. It has tons of lights pointed at it. I bet it makes the stage glitter like rainbows. I’m almost tempted to leap up on it and try out one of the poles.
I’m going to blow him away. Make him go crazy with want for me. I make a vow right now that the hot, tattooed owner won’t know what hit him when he sees me rock this stage.
I visualize his eyes as they narrow on me, and I walk toward him while removing my top—no, I rip it off for him, only him. He reaches for me and I leap into his arms, kind of like Dirty Dancing but better, hotter…
My phone rings. “Jesus.” I jump and frantically dig for it before Bella hangs up since she’s the only one who calls me. Figures it’s in the bottom of the bag stuck in one of my tennis shoes. I need to go through and clean it out. Maybe one day soon I’ll have enough money to get a new one and fill it with new stuff.
“Hello.” I sit down in a booth. “Hello?”
“It’s about time, biotch,” Bella yells as she cuts in and out. I sigh as I lean to untie my poor worn pointe shoes. They’re barely holding up. I need new ones. I guess I’ll add that to the endless list of things I need. Tossing them into my bag, I slip on my tennis shoes.
“Bella, hold on. I can barely hear you.” Standing up, I grab my bag and make sure all my stuff is not on the floor as I head toward the door.
Thank God I have good news to tell her. If not, I might have let it go to voice mail. The humiliation about my lack of progress has become like an elephant in the room with Bella and me.
“Holy shit,” she screams through the phone. “I swear to God I’ve been calling you for days. Why didn’t you call me back?”
“I’m so sorry.” Squinting, I adjust to the bright sun after leaving the darkness of the club. “Don’t kill me… but shit is going on and I didn’t want to bum you out.”
Silence greets me. I look around at my options for getting home. Besides a couple of Harley Davidsons, there’s not much in the parking lot.
I guess I have to take the bus. I start to run across the street to catch it. See, this is when I wish I had extra cash and could Uber home.
“Bella?” I look both ways as I wave my arms at the driver to wait. I’ve found waving and jumping in front of bus drivers tends to make them stop. He opens the door and I smile as I dart in and sit.
“I’m still here.”
Thankfully the bus is almost empty and the few who are here are wearing earbuds and staring out the window.