“So, I hear you leave tonight for Martha's Vineyard?”
“Yeah, Gloria said my flight leaves at seven.” Why is she calling me about this? Fionna was good at pretending to be interested. She was one of those people who would act friendly to your face, then talk all the shit she could when you weren't around.
She treated Tigress like a high school cafeteria. She had her clique of 'friends', who without their knowledge, were bashed by her any second she could. Fionna put herself on a pedestal, expecting to be treated like a fucking queen.
“Well, I was wondering if you wanted any company? It can be dangerous out there, so I'm offering my help if you want.” Her false concern floated through the speaker.
“Sorry, Gloria said they were very specific about their request. They only wanted one girl, me.” Personally, I would have liked to be able to bring someone else along, it was always more relaxing to have a familiar face. But even if I was allowed to, I wouldn't have asked Fionna.
I could hear her huff under her breath. She didn't like my answer. And she never liked me. Mostly, she hated the fact I didn't walk around kissing her ass like the others girls. I have a pretty bold personality, I'm not afraid to be honest, and I don't pretend it either.
“Well, I hope you know what you're doing. I don't want to see your face plastered on a missing person flier.”
Rolling my eyes, I paused before speaking. I knew what the risks were with our line of work. Yes, there was always the chance you could go dance for a private party and it could go south.
But Gloria assured me that this was a secure job. And seeing as how I owed her as much as I did, I wasn't worried she was going to put me in harm's way. She'd be the one losing out. To risk your loan, that would be a stupid move on her part.
“Thanks, Fionna. But I'll be fine.” Sarcasm flung off my tongue, smiling behind the receiver. Her real issue wasn't the fear for my safety, it was jealousy.
None of the others girls that worked at Tigress knew about my debt to Gloria. She wanted to keep it low key. The last thing she needed was the other girls seeing her as an open bank account there to dig them out of trouble.
So, even though they saw me making all this money, no one knew that seventy-five percent went to my boss.
As far as Fionna was concerned, I just stole another high paying gig from her.
Hanging up the phone, I grabbed a few scandalous dresses, a couple pairs of spiked heels, and stuffed them into my bag. I wasn't exactly sure what type of party I was going to be entertaining, so I wanted to have a few options.
If there was one thing I had learned from previous parties, always go prepared. You never knew exactly what might be needed to really maximize what you could make.
Gloria gave me the basics for my weekend away. I would be dancing for a party in a mansion off the coast. Martha's Vineyard was a high class town, with a lot of money. She said I would be spending the weekend and if they requested longer, I could choose to stay or not.
The biggest point she drove home was the money. They were willing to pay big bucks to have me there.
I can't lie, the idea of being flown out to the island was exciting. This was the first time I felt good about my job. To be personally requested for a private party made my belly warm, tingles danced across my skin.
I felt special. And I loved it.
I held up a plaid shirt, squinting my eyes with indecision. Screw it, I'll need something to wear home that's comfortable. Jamming the shirt inside, I threw in my sneakers and a pair of jeans.
For most of my life, I considered myself a plain Jane. I didn't like makeup or fancy clothes. Heels were only worn to weddings or the one school dance I attended. I was much more content wearing worn out shoes and loose t-shirts.
My weekends used to consist of comfy clothes and a lot of cooking. That had been my idea of a great day off.
This job sent me into a second dimension of myself. I was living a double life, a completely opposite image of who I was.
Meeting Gloria in the hospital that day had been a saving grace and a death sentence. She wasn't a bad woman, she had good intentions. But her drive for money and my desperation at the time placed us on a crossing path. The fork in my road had led me here.
I've asked myself on several occasions if I took the right turn, did I do the right thing?
When she found me, crying in the foyer of the hospital, I was desperate. Gloria seemed to sympathize with me. She had lost her mom a year before and understood what I was feeling.
She had offered to help, insisted that I let her help me. All I had to do was pay her back. That's when she offered me the cocktail waitress job.
I'd like to think I made the right choice, it's hopefully going to give my mom another chance to experience a life similar to the one she had been living.