by Tara Sivec
“YOLO, bitches! If I had a wad of singles I’d be making it rain!” Mrs. Potter shouts from the corner of the kitchen.
“You were supposed to wait in the car,” I tell her, looking away from PJ’s shocked expression to see Mrs. Potter beaming at me.
“Like I was going to miss this!” she tells me before walking over to Cindy and holding out her hand. “Hello, I’m Mrs. Potter. You have a lovely home.”
Cindy shakes her hand, wearing the same shocked expression on her face as PJ.
“So, am I hired?” I ask, turning back to face PJ.
“You can have whatever you want. Just get off my lap before Beast suddenly shows up and stabs me,” he hastily replies, his hands still up in the air.
“That’s what I thought,” I tell him haughtily as I climb off his lap.
“Holy shit, Belle. . . .” Cindy finally speaks as I walk over to where she and Mrs. Potter are standing.
“Did that meet with your approval?” I ask sarcastically.
Even though I’m happy I made it through my first lap dance without throwing up, I’m still a little ticked my friend underestimated me.
“Honestly, I don’t even care if you just gave my boyfriend a boner. That was so fucking hot!”
“I just want to state for the record that I did not get a boner!” PJ shouts, not moving from his position in the chair. “Can you please make sure Beast knows I DID NOT GET A BONER?!”
I kind of feel bad that he sounds so worried, but he deserves to be scared right now, after assuming I wasn’t ready to dance at his club.
“Oh, stop being such a baby,” Cindy complains with a roll of her eyes. “Tell Belle that was a great lap dance.”
“It was a great lap dance. Superb. But I did not get a boner,” he reiterates seriously.
“Honey, you can put your hands down now,” Cindy laughs, wrapping one of her arms around my shoulders and giving me a squeeze.
PJ is still muttering to himself about boners and something about witnesses signing a notarized letter stating that fact, when he finally lowers his hands and gets up from the chair.
“Tell her she can dance tonight,” Cindy orders.
“You can dance tonight. But you make sure you tell Beast—”
“Yeah, yeah, yeah, we get it!” Mrs. Potter announces. “You didn’t get a boner. Although I don’t know how that was possible. I got a lady boner watching that! So, what time should I be at the club tonight? And is this a fancy place where I need to pull out one of my dresses, or will a nice blouse and slacks be sufficient?”
PJ leaves the room, warning me that I’m the one who’s going to break the news to Vincent about me dancing tonight, because he’d like to keep all of his body parts safely attached to his body. As Cindy and Mrs. Potter excitedly discuss what I should wear, everything I just did and what it means suddenly hits me.
I’m going to dance at a strip club tonight.
I’m going to get up on a stage in front of hundreds of strangers and take my clothes off.
Oh, God. What have I done?!
Chapter 26: I’m Just Here for Moral Support
“What the hell are you doing here?”
I whirl around to face Vincent at the back of the packed club, putting my hands on my hips and lifting my chin, fully prepared to give him a piece of my mind. Instead of calling him when I got home earlier to let him know what was happening tonight, I decided instead to practice what I would say to him when he saw me here. I figured it would be best to just show up ready to dance instead of dealing with him trying to change my mind over the phone and killing my spirits.
“I’m dancing tonight, and don’t you say one word about how I’m not ready or I swear to God, Vincent, I will grab the closest glass from a table, break it, and use it as a shiv on you,” I tell him, channeling my best Ariel attitude.
Instead of giving me grief, his eyes scan up and down my body, making my skin heat.
“Are you wearing my shirt?” he asks with a raise of one eyebrow.
“Yes. Yes I am. Got something to say about that?” I ask in irritation.
His eyes trail down my body again and I try not to shiver. I don’t need him to know just how easily I’m affected by him when I’m trying to remain calm and keep the upper hand.
Cindy told me to put on a button-down shirt when I came to the club so I wouldn’t have to pull anything up and over my head and ruin all the hard work Ariel did to me when I got here and snuck into the back dressing room without Vincent seeing me. Before I left his house, I grabbed the only white button-down dress shirt in his closet, which was shoved way in the back behind all of his T-shirts. It was three sizes too big for me, so I tied it at my waist and rolled up the sleeves to my elbows. I paired it with a short black skirt and the silver sparkly heels Ariel had let me borrow. I figured I should wear the things for as long as possible before I got on stage, so I could get used to walking in them and not fall flat on my face.
Ariel curled my long hair to big, bouncy waves and piled it up on top of my head, with a few long strands hanging down, using a clip that I’ll be able to easily remove at the start of my dance, to let all my hair come tumbling down. I put my foot down about false eyelashes so instead, she just used a tube of magical mascara that made my naturally long lashes thick and full. I’m kind of thankful she didn’t go too overboard with the makeup and just highlighted my features with some black eyeliner and glittery eyeshadow. The only thing I let her go crazy with was bold, red lipstick. I like how sexy it makes me feel, and I needed all the sexy feelings I can get right now.
“You look good in my shirt,” he says in a low voice filled with so much hunger as he looks at me, I want to forget all about having the upper hand, jump into his arms, and tell him to take me right here, right now.
Before I can say something stupid and ruin this whole upper-hand thing, I hear my name shouted above the low hum of people talking and the quiet sound of house music playing through the sound system.
“Oh, my God, you look amazing! I love what Ariel did with your makeup!” Cindy says, coming up to us with her hand linked through PJ’s elbow. “Doesn’t she look amazing, PJ?”
“I did not get a boner!” he announces to Vincent, pulling his arm away from Cindy to hold both of his hands up in the air.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” Vincent growls.
“Nothing!” PJ and I shout together.
I figure now isn’t the best time to let Vincent know I gave his friend a lap dance. I’ll save that for later. Like, when he’s sleeping and I can whisper it in his ear, relieving my guilty conscience while also not having to deal with his wrath.
Thankfully, I’m saved from the questioning look Vincent is giving PJ when I hear someone else shout my name. I quickly turn away from Vincent with a smile on my face that immediately drops as I let out a gasp.
“Dad?! What are you doing here?” I ask in disbelief as I watch him quickly move through crowds of people to get to me.
Then I notice the woman standing next to him, and my eyes move down to see their hands laced together. My father notices where my eyes have strayed and gives me a sheepish shrug.
“We’re dating now.”
“Tell her the rest,” Luanne urges, bumping her shoulder into his.
“You mean about how it was love at first sight the day you walked into my house and took your clothes off, and I haven’t been able to keep my hands off you since then?” he asks her with a chuckle that makes Luanne laugh. I want to throw up in my mouth as the two share an intimate look.
“No, silly! The other thing,” Luanne states, widening her eyes at him.
My dad clears his throat and steps away from Luanne to stand right in front of me, his cheeks growing red with embarrassment as he gives me a sad smile.
“Isabelle, I want to apologize for the things I’ve said to you and the way I’ve treated you. I’m sorry for smothering you. I’m sorry for being too overprotective and for making you feel like you couldn’t
live your own life. I’ve always been so proud of you and that hasn’t changed, no matter what stupid things I said when I was angry and confused,” he says. “I didn’t realize I needed to stop being so stubborn until Luanne walked into my house that day, telling me I was acting like an idiot.”
“I believe the exact words I said were, ‘Stop acting like an asshole. Strap on a set of balls and apologize to your daughter for acting like an overgrown child throwing a temper tantrum,’” Luanne adds, giving me a wink.
My dad nods, giving her a smile before continuing.
“You have every right to make your own choices and do whatever makes you happy. And if that’s taking your clothes off for money, then I support you in every way, because I love you.”
My eyes cloud with tears and I quickly blink them back so I don’t ruin my makeup and have to deal with Ariel’s wrath.
My dad wraps his arms around me and pulls me against him, giving me a tight hug. I look over his shoulder at Luanne, mouthing the words thank you to her.
“Plus, your friend Cynthia told Luanne you were dancing tonight, and I couldn’t miss my baby’s debut!” he tells me excitedly as I yank myself out of his hold.
“WHAT?!” I shout, staring at him like he’s lost his mind.
It’s bad enough that in a few minutes, I have to get up on that stage and dance for a bunch of strangers, as well as Vincent and my friends. I assumed my dad just popped in here to apologize and then he’d leave. There is no way in hell I’m taking my clothes off with him sitting in the audience. That’s just . . . gross. And wrong.
“Don’t worry, sweetie, he’s not going to watch,” Luanne reassures me.
Then, she reaches into her purse and pulls something out, holding it up in the air.
“We used this blindfold the other night,” she states, handing the pink satin piece of fabric with an elastic band over to my father while they both share a giggle that makes me even more uncomfortable than the idea of my dad watching me strip.
“Oh, God. I think I’m gonna be sick,” PJ mutters as we watch our parents make googly eyes at each other.
“Join the club, buddy,” I tell him, wincing when my dad leans in and nuzzles Luanne’s neck.
She smacks him away with another giggle, clearing her throat and addressing me again.
“Anyway, we figured this blindfold would come in handy tonight as well.”
I watch as Luanne helps my dad put the blindfold over his head and pull it down over his eyes.
“I’m just here for moral support. Can’t see a thing!” my dad announces with a huge smile on his face, waving his hands around in front of him like a blind person.
I want to remain disgusted by what’s happening in front of me, but I can’t. I’ve never seen my dad so happy and relaxed before, and I know I owe Luanne a lot more than just a thank you. I never thought my dad would ever step foot in a strip club or be supportive of my decisions. Granted, just knowing he’s here in this club, even if he won’t be able to see me, makes me a lot more nervous than I was before. But at least he’s forgiven me and realizes the mistakes he made.
All of a sudden, my dad’s hands smack against Vincent’s chest. He starts patting Vincent down, and I give the poor guy an apologetic look.
“My, you’re a big one, aren’t you?” my dad mutters, his hands patting along Vincent’s chest until he gets to his arms, giving his biceps a squeeze. “Luanne informed me my daughter has been shacking up with a man. Are you that man?”
Vincent rubs the back of his neck nervously as my dad continues to fondle him.
“Uh . . . I . . . she’s been sleeping in my spare bedroom and only my spare bedroom, and I would never take advantage of your daughter, sir, because she’s sweet and kind and innocent and I would never want to ruin that,” Vincent replies rapidly.
I shoot him a dirty look, narrowing my eyes at him.
Sweet and innocent my ass. And who says I can’t take advantage of you?!
“Dad, thanks for coming. I hope you’ll enjoy the show that you absolutely will not be seeing because someone will be gluing that blindfold to your face,” I tell him, leaning forward and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “If you’ll all excuse me, I need to get changed.”
While Luanne grabs my dad’s arm and guides him over to a table, and PJ and Cindy head over to the bar, I turn around and face Vincent, pressing my body right against his.
Pushing myself up on my toes, I put my mouth right by his ear.
“Enjoy the show,” I whisper, smiling to myself when I feel a slight shiver run through his body when my warm breath skates over his ear.
Sliding my cheek against his, I pull my head back and look right into his eyes as I trail my palm down his chest, over his abs and, with a boldness I’ve never known before, grab right on to his crotch.
“Hope it’s not too sweet and innocent for you.”
I give the bulge in his jeans a gentle squeeze before stepping back, dropping my hand, and turning away from him, making sure to add an extra special sway to my hips as I make my way through the crowd to the back of the club, where the dressing rooms are.
I’ll show you sweet and innocent.
Chapter 27: I Almost Spun to Death!
I can do this. I can totally do this. It will be over in less than three minutes and it will be perfect and everyone will finally see I’m not as inexperienced as they think I am.
“She can’t do this. What the hell were we thinking letting her do this?!”
My mental pep talk comes to a screeching halt and I stop pacing back and forth in the corner of the dressing room to look over at my two best friends, hovering in the doorway.
“Sweet mother of god, what is all this shit on the walls?” Ariel continues, moving farther into the room to examine the things I taped all over the place when I got back here a little bit ago.
“Those are my study notes. Obviously.”
I try to keep the frustration out of my voice, but it’s impossible when Ariel and Cindy stop in the middle of the room and stare at me like I’m crazy.
“Belle, sweetie, you cut out hundreds of different female body parts from the pages of magazines and taped them all over the walls. It’s . . . concerning,” Cindy explains in a soft, kind voice.
“It’s not concerning, it’s weird as fuck!” Ariel argues, walking over and ripping one of the items off the wall, waving it around in front of her. “This is serial-killer shit, Belle. You have an entire wall of female eyes. EYES! They’re staring at us and watching us and oh, my God. You’re a serial killer, aren’t you? I knew it. It’s always the quiet ones who live in their dad’s basement.”
With a huff, I storm over to her and snatch the jagged-edged, torn-out piece of glossy magazine paper from her hand.
“I’m not a serial killer, and I haven’t lived in my dad’s basement in weeks. I told you, these are my notes. I watched a documentary about stripping, and it said you need to be expressive with your eyes. So, I cut out all the eyes of women who had an expressive look in them, and I’ve been practicing in the mirror so I can emulate them.”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I realize how ridiculous it sounds. Ariel is right. I can’t do this. What the hell was I thinking, volunteering to be the next one of us to strip at Charming’s? Not only did I tape up an entire wall of eyes in the dressing room, there’s also a wall of torsos, a wall of legs, and a wall of arms, all of the models posing and using those body parts in a sexy way that I’ve been practicing over and over, doing whatever I can to make sure I’m ready.
“What you need is a pep talk. Ariel, give her a pep talk,” Cindy urges, staring at Ariel with wide eyes and nodding her head in my direction.
“Uh, well, I’d call you a sexy minx, but that yellow taffeta gown is hideous.”
Cindy lets out a deep, frustrated sigh, muttering under her breath.
“You seriously suck at this.”
“Haven’t we already established that I’m not a motivational speaker?” Ariel
asks. “At least what she has on underneath that horrible costume isn’t too shabby.”
I run my sweaty palms down the full skirt of the silky yellow princess costume I’m wearing, knowing it’s not exactly what one would call sexy. But Ariel is right. What I have on underneath this sweet and innocent gown is the moneymaker, as long as I can find the courage to rip this gown off so everyone out in the audience can see it. Especially one brooding, annoying man in particular.
I decided to forego the in-your-face sexy librarian thing and stick with the whole naughty-princess thing, just like Cindy did when she danced here. It is, after all, what we named our business, so I might as well stick with tradition, since it worked so well for her. Plus, it would be great advertising for us.
Under the dress, I’m wearing a teeny tiny pair of yellow satin underwear that barely covers my butt and has yellow bows on each hip, and a matching push-up bra. Both are embellished with white lace, rhinestones, and pearls, and there’s a silk red rose attached to one of the bra cups. It’s definitely the naughtiest outfit I’ve ever worn in my life. That thought makes my skin break out into a cold sweat as I stare down at my boobs, which are pushed so high up in this damn bra, I could rest a tea service on them. Or a book. I should have brought some of my books with me instead of only the one I’m going to use as a prop. Just running my hand over one of them would calm me down and make my heart stop trying to beat its way out of my chest.
“Belle, stop thinking about books,” Ariel orders, recognizing the faraway look I get in my eyes when I think about my favorite things in the world.
I quickly reach down into my cleavage and pull out a handful of notecards I stuck down in there, handing them over to Cindy.
“Here. Quiz me.”
Ariel reaches over and smacks them out of my hand before Cindy can grab them.
“Jesus Christ, you don’t need to study notecards to take your clothes off for money,” she says with a roll of her eyes. “How many times do we have to explain that real-life experience was all you needed to gain confidence and feel good about yourself? And you’ve had so much real-life experience these last few weeks, it exhausts me just thinking about it.”