But when he looks at me, well…maybe I still feel a little dirty. But in a good way.
Damn it. Damn it. Why now? Why this man?
Chuck is annoyed with me, although probably less annoyed than he would’ve been if I hadn’t gotten anything. He’s the manager, and he oversees the “talent.” He waves me toward him. Dirty blond with ash-gray eyes, he’s clean-cut, clean shaven, and wears a nice button-down shirt and dark slacks. In a different setting, he could pass for a bank manager.
“You sucked,” he says without preamble.
Until he opens his mouth. “Thanks,” I mumble.
“I’m only letting you work today because I got paid to, but for fuck’s sake. You don’t do another set, got it? We don’t want to drive customers away with that kind of…” He pauses for a quick inhale. “What the hell was that anyway? I’ve seen robots with better moves.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it. I was bad. Can I go home now?”
“Please. Go home. And don’t come back.”
“Okay, fine,” I mutter under my breath. I’m not going to beg him to keep me or anything ridiculous like that. It isn’t like this is my dream job. Mr. Grayson will just have to get a little more creative about convincing Mystery Guy that he really wants to marry me.
I take off my stage makeup, put on my street clothes and climb into the used Honda that my parents bought me when I got my driver’s license. Someone back home keyed the sides. Since I never bothered to patch them up, the lines have rusted over. I didn’t report the vandalism to the police either, since they weren’t going to side with me. They won’t side with anybody related to Dad.
The interior of the car gives me a sense of privacy, and I let myself deflate. Tears bead in the corners of my eyes, and I shove a fist against my mouth and bite on my knuckles until they hurt.
This isn’t how my life was supposed to be. I was supposed to go to college, graduate, get a job with real career prospects…marry a nice guy from the same socioeconomic background. But instead, I only got to do four semesters. Given my lack of education and job skills, I’m never going to find gainful employment…at least, nothing that will lead to a real career. And I’m beholden to Mr. Grayson, whose motives I do not understand.
I can’t give up, no matter how much I want to. My younger sister Nonny depends on me. She’s only fifteen, and she has no one else. I feel shaky with terror, just imagining what Mr. Grayson could ask her to do if she didn’t have me by her side to keep her safe. He showed up a year ago, and he’s been a lifesaver. But we can’t keep accepting his gifts, especially now that I know he can demand anything at any time. At least he hasn’t wanted sex.
Somehow I have to find a way to pay back every penny he’s given us. I may be alone, but I’m not helpless. I can figure things out as long as I keep calm.
I tilt my head back until it hits the seat. I would give anything to be able to talk things over with my best friend—former best friend—Traci Burton. She always had great ideas and knew exactly what to say to cheer people up. But after what Dad did to her family, she wants nothing to do with me. The last time I saw her…
I waited until she was home alone before going over to her house—her parents couldn’t stand the sight of me. Traci and I grew up together in Lincoln City, inseparable since kindergarten. She was the only one I could talk to when people started saying all those awful things about my father. She was my best friend. Surely she wouldn’t turn her back on me.
When she saw me on the steps, her face flushed, anger flashing in her eyes. She jutted her sharp chin out, the only thing that kept her face from being as round as the moon.
“I can’t talk to you,” she spat. “I’m too angry and hurt and… Your dad ruined my family! How could he?”
I had no answer because I didn’t know how he could’ve done it either. I still don’t.
Now my eyes in the rearview mirror look tired. It’s more or less a constant condition these days.
Once I compose myself, I drive home. Nonny and I live in a small two-bedroom apartment in a not-so-nice section of the city. But it’s cheap, especially when split two ways. We have a roommate, even though Mr. Grayson offered to provide a nicer unit for just the two of us. I’m glad I never asked for much. Otherwise who knows what he might feel entitled to?
My roommate, Caroline Wiseman, is supposedly a college student, but I’ve never seen her study. I have seen her party hard and bring a lot of guys over. I worry about her effect on Nonny, but it is not easy to find someone who doesn’t mind living with an underage sibling of their roommate. And honestly, the parade of men coming to see my roommate is nothing compared to the trauma that Nonny and I both went through at the shelter.