“Want me to pick you up, or should we meet somewhere?”
“Let’s meet at Dalton’s. It’s a deli down the street from my office. Is noon okay?”
“Perfect. See you then, Abby.”
“Okay. Bye.”
She smiled widely as she hung up the phone, resting her chin on her hands. Though she knew it couldn’t go anywhere, the prospect of seeing the Greek God again filled her with nervous excitement.
“You look nice today,” Marla said, admiring Abby’s dark purple sleeveless dress.
“Thanks. I’m sort of having lunch with someone today.”
“Sort of?”
“It’s nothing. He asked, and I didn’t want him to feel bad, so…”
“So you dressed up in a gorgeous dress and some fuck me heels,” Marla said, raising an eyebrow.
“These are not fuck me heels,” Abby said, glaring. “Trust me, I own a lot of them. Wear them three nights a week, in fact.”
“So who is this guy?” Marla asked, perching on the side of Abby’s desk.
“He’s a Greek God.”
“Nice.”
“He’s the doctor who treated my Mom in the ER Monday night.”
Marla’s mouth dropped open.
“A doctor? Go, girl.”
“He’s really nice. I think we could be friends,” Abby said.
“Why friends?”
“Because I’m a stripper,” Abby said in a tone that implied it was obvious.
“So what? You’re not a prostitute, Abby, you’re supporting your family as a dancer. And if this guy has a problem with it when you tell him, he’s not worthy of you.”
“He already knows.”
“Good,” Marla said, smiling. “Have a nice time. Take a long lunch. And come tell me how it went when you get back.”
Abby scanned the rows of booths at Dalton’s, searching for Chris’ blond hair. When her eyes fell on him, he gave a small wave and she smiled. He stood as she arrived at the booth and she felt a wave of anxiety. He wore a gray t-shirt and worn jeans, and he looked good.
“Hi,” he said, smiling nervously. Abby wondered what a tall, strikingly handsome doctor had to be nervous about. Surely not lunch with a stripper.
“Hi,” she said, sitting down across from him.
“You look really pretty.”
“Thanks.” She blushed at the compliment. Men roamed every inch of her body with their eyes at the club, but Chris’ look felt different somehow. More intimate and appreciative.
“So you work two jobs?” he asked.
“Yes. I used to work at – do you want to hear the whole story?”
He nodded eagerly.
“I got a business degree from DePaul. My senior year I did an internship at Frederick Wilson, an investment firm, and they hired me when I graduated. But when one of the partners saw me working at the club, I got fired. I had a lot of trouble finding another job, but I eventually did, at Case Publications. I’m an assistant to an executive there. It doesn’t pay much, but I do it for the health insurance. Dancing at the club is how I make money.”
“Hi, I’m Brianna and I’ll be taking care of you today,” a bubbly, blond waitress said. “Can I start you with some drinks?”
“Coffee,” Chris said. Brianna smiled sweetly at him.
“Water … Hey, I thought you worked nights,” Abby said as Brianna left the table.
“I do. Five nights a week, six sometimes.”
“Were you off last night?”
“No, I’m off Saturday this week.”
“When did you get off work?”
“I left at eight.”
“Why aren’t you asleep?” Abby asked, surprised.
“I don’t need as much sleep as most people. My residency cured me of that.”
“Do you like being an ER doctor?”
“Most of the time, I love it. It’s always something different. I was planning to be a surgeon but I got hooked on emergency medicine in med school.”
“How old are you?” Abby asked.
“32. How old are you?”
“24.”
“Are you ready to order?” The waitress looked expectantly at Abby.
“I’ll have a large garden salad with no cheese. No dressing.”
“For you, sir?”
“I’ll take the pastrami on rye and some potato soup.”
Brianna flashed another smile at Chris before leaving the table.
“How long have you worked at Mickey’s?” he asked. Abby considered.
“I started as a cocktail waitress when I was 20 and I started dancing a month later. Around four years, I guess.”
“Do you like it?”
Abby looked away, uncomfortable.
“I’ve always loved dancing. I had a friend growing up whose mother taught lessons, and she taught me for free. So the dancing part, I do enjoy. But the stripping part…” She shrugged. “I guess I’ve gotten ambivalent about it. At first it really bothered me. If I hadn’t needed the money so much, I wouldn’t have been able to do it.”