“Shhhhh, darlin’, it’s okay, everything will be alright. November is not using her apartment anymore, so you can stay there; and I can give you the money.”
I shake my head back and forth. “I can’t take the money; it wouldn’t feel right.”
“I can’t have you work for me, Liz,” he says, as he places his right hand on my cheek. I feel bad pulling out the big guns, but I know I need money, and I can’t take it without earning it.
“Can you recommend another club?” I ask pulling out my cell phone, looking like I’m going to take down whatever phone number he gives me.
“You’re not going to work at another club,” he says, running his hands down his face. “Jesus, I don’t know what the fuck I’m thinking about doing this shit.” When his eyes come back to me, I can tell that he’s really torn. “Look, you can serve drinks, but you can’t work on stage.”
“Okay.” I agree immediately. I never wanted to work on stage. I would if I had to, but the idea of taking off my clothes and trying to appear sexy just seems like a lot of work. “What’s Trevor going to say about this?” Mike asks, and I looked away. Trevor likes to scare away any man who shows the least bit of interest in me. I’m pretty sure that I’m halfway in love with him already, but I know for a fact those feelings are not mutual. For a while, I thought of him as one of my best friends, until the day July was born. We ended up at his house, celebrating over a bottle of vodka. Things ended up getting hot and heavy. He had his hand down my pants, and I was so caught up in the moment that when he asked me how long it had been, I told him “never”. I didn’t mean I’ve never had sex; I meant that I had never felt that kind of fire, like my whole body was lit from the inside out. As soon as I said the word “never”, he stopped immediately. I tried to tell him that I didn’t mean it like he took it, but he completely ignored me. He then handed me my shirt from the floor and left the room. He has been avoiding me ever since. Which is a good thing, because I had never been more humiliated in my life.
“Trevor has no say in what I do. We don’t even talk anymore,” I say, hearing the sadness in my own voice.
“Yeah, alright.” Mike says, running his hand through his hair. “You can start tomorrow; just ask Shannon to get you a uniform.”
“Thanks a lot.” I say quietly, looking at the hands in my lap.
“Don’t thank me yet, honey.”
“This means a lot. I know that this isn’t easy for you.”
“Okay, darlin’.” He sighs, pulling me in for another hug. “I’ll see you tomorrow. Your shift starts at nine, but come around eight; I’ll have one of the girls show you where everything is, and what you need to do.” He stands, taking a set of keys out of his pocket. “These are for the apartment. You can get in through the basement door that’s around the back of the house. Just let yourself in. Tomorrow, I’ll help you get your stuff from storage, and get you moved in.” I swallow hard, trying to control the emotions that are running rampant inside me. “Everything is going to be okay, Liz,” Mike says again, pulling me in for another hug. “Now, go get your uniform, and I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Okay,” I whisper, taking a step away. “Thanks again, Mike; see you tomorrow,” I say, leaving the office. I find Shannon back behind the bar; she gives me what is supposed to be a uniform, but feels like a few pieces of silk, and sends me on my way.
“Hey, girl,” Beth—better known as Bambi—says, walking into the dressing room. When I first met her, I was a little intimidated. She’s about five-nine, all legs, long brown hair, perfectly sun-kissed skin, and golden eyes. She came to Tennessee from Montana around a year ago, and has been working at Teasers ever since.
She taught me about waiting tables, pushing drinks, and smiling for a decent tip, if any. I asked her why she didn’t work the stage; I mean I know for a fact that she would make a lot of money up there. But she said she was way too clumsy, and that the name Bambi wasn’t given to her when she started working here. When she was little, her parents said that she could never control her legs, like they weren’t attached to her body, so they started calling her Bambi.
“Is it busy out there?” I ask, putting on light pink lip gloss.
“Not really. There’s a bachelor party coming in at eleven; they booked the private room. Rex said that you could help me with them. The tips should be good,” she says, walking to the lockers across the room. I look in the mirror at my reflection and forget who I am for a second.