Stripped(61)
“How much for what?”
“For, you know, the slap. How much?”
“That’s not for sale here.”
“Everything’s for sale here. It’s a strip club. How much to make you happy?”
“Touching my body is not for sale.”
“But you’ll grind me until I come. That’s touching,” the man said, raising his eyebrows with amusement.
Abby sniffed, wanting to tell him that she chose that kind of contact, but it sounded so crazy as she thought it that she couldn’t bring herself to say it.
“Come on. Hop on,” the man said, leering as he patted his lap.
“No.” Abby felt satisfaction as his dark eyes narrowed when she refused him.
“Come on. Your ass is all red now, and it’s making me hot. Get up here. I’ll pay double.”
“No.” She turned to leave, stopping as she felt another smack on her ass. All the men at the table were doubled over with laughter, and Abby was seething.
“Mickey!” she yelled, waving him over. He hustled over with a phony grin.
“What, sweetheart?”
“This guy smacked my ass twice. I want him thrown out.”
“I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it, did you?” Mickey looked congenially at the dark-haired man.
“Not at all. What I want is a lap dance. Here’s my money.” He waved a bill in front of Abby and she shook her head with disgust.
“Go on,” Mickey said, nodding toward the table of men.
“No. I want him thrown out.” She looked steadfastly at him, and Mickey rolled his eyes.
“Come on, Nik. We can’t throw out every guy who gets too friendly. Keep the peace,” he said.
“You won’t throw him out?”
“No.”
“Then I quit!” She turned to leave, with Mickey gaping after her.
As she sorted through Sara and Audrey’s backpacks, Abby frowned when she pulled out a math test that Audrey had gotten a D on.
“Aud!” she called down to the basement. Audrey pounded up the stairs with an expectant look. “What happened here?” Abby asked as she held up the paper.
“It’s really hard. I don’t understand it,” Audrey said, looking away.
“I can help you study, you just have to let me know, okay? Justin can, too. When is the next test?”
“We have one every Friday.”
“Well, it’s only Tuesday, so that gives us plenty of time to study. Just let me get dinner in the oven and we’ll get started while it cooks.”
“I need lunch money,” Audrey said as she looked through her backpack for her math book.
“There’s money in my wallet, just take what you need,” Abby said absently. Audrey walked over and pulled the leather wallet from Abby’s purse.
“There’s no money here,” she said. Abby looked up sharply.
“Yes, there is. There’s a lot of money there,” she said, walking over. Audrey handed over the wallet and Abby stared at the empty compartment where she stored folded bills.
“There was more than $300 in here,” she said, grabbing her purse and searching through it frantically.
“It was in my desk drawer all day at work,” she mumbled to herself.
“I have money I can use for lunch,” Audrey offered.
“Oh, sweetie, no, I’ll get more money from the bank. I just wish I knew what happened to that money. Ask Sara to come up here, would you?”
Abby furrowed her brows as she stuck a frozen lasagna in the oven. She retraced her steps after lunch, which was the last time she had seen the money in her wallet.
“Can I have some cookies?” Sara asked as she entered the kitchen.
“No, wait for dinner. Did you take anything from my purse?”
Sara shook her head solemnly.
“Mom was looking for something in there,” she said. Abby froze, not wanting to believe her mother could have stolen money from her.
“Is she in her room?” Abby asked.
“No, she left. Somebody picked her up.”
Abby sighed and shook her head.
“Okay,” she said. “Audrey, let’s see what we need to study.”
Abby squinted as she scanned the crowd in the club, trying to locate John Houston. It was her last Friday night, and she was hoping to say goodbye to him. He was one of the few customers she’d met that she would have liked to know outside the club.
“Did I hear you’re leaving?” the bartender, Dave, called to her. She smiled and nodded, and Dave’s look said it all. He was happy for her.
Mickey had asked her to work this last weekend, and it was hard to believe that tomorrow night would be her last night dancing at the club. After working there three nights a week for the past four years, she wondered if she would miss it at all.