His answer never changes. “You’d never have to.”
Meaningless words that somehow manage to piss me off every time. I tell him that the first thing I’d do when I take charge is shut it all down. He just shrugs and says he’ll leave that part of the business to the boys.
I can’t win.
Rylee grins maniacally at the red lights of Ahren, eyes practically glowing. “I dare one of you to go in there, climb on stage, and start pole dancing.”
Charlotte lets out a sharp, exasperated noise. “No. Absolutely not, Rylee. You’re insane.”
“Uh uh. Not me,” Makayla says, folding her arms like a general about to enforce martial law. “I’m not losing it to neon lights and sweaty strangers.”
“You won’t be able to get in there,” I say. “Those places are invite-only.”
“Can you get in if you say you work there?” Rylee presses, eyes sparkling with mischief.
I make a face. Dancing badly on a pole in front of a bunch of wealthy Russians? Honestly… that thought alone makes me want to cackle. And, okay, there’s the tiny thrill of doing something Iknowwould piss Dad off.
Oppositional streak? Check.
Rylee’s grin stretches impossibly wider, like she’s been saving this moment all night. She locks onto me with those dramatic, wide-eyed pleading orbs and launches into full-blown pep talk mode.
“Come on! Two weeks of moping, Leanna! I’ve been trapped in misery and gloom, andthisis what will save me! You, on a pole. Please! Please! Please! I’ll bake cookies. Laundry. I’ll even let you control the playlist for a whole hour!”
I blink at her, trying not to laugh at the ridiculous mental image of myself, in heels or not, wobbling on a pole while some rich men cheer me on. “You do realize that if I actually did this, there’s a ninety percent chance I’d break something?”
Rylee gasps, clutching her chest. “You mean my heart? Youcan’tbreak my heart! My morale literally depends on this!”
Makayla snorts. “You’re terrifying. Absolutely terrifying. And your morale is apparently worth more than all of mine combined.”
Charlotte rolls her eyes so hard it’s audible. “I can feel my soul shrinking just listening to this conversation.”
Rylee grabs my arm dramatically. “Think about it! The danger! The excitement! The sheer spectacle of you failing spectacularly!”
I pretend to contemplate, tapping my chin. “Hmm… danger? Excitement? Spectacle of failure… thatdoessound fun.”
“Youhaveto do it,” Rylee continues, getting louder with each word. “I mean, I’ll do your chores for a month! A whole month,every single one! Even laundry, dishes, vacuuming—yes, even the dusting, which we all know I hate!”
Makayla laughs, shaking her head. “You’ll probably regret this in thirty seconds, but yes, yes, this is officially the best idea you’ve ever had.”
Charlotte groans. “You’re all insane. This is why I don’t come out with you.”
“C’mon, Charlotte,” I say, shaking my head at her dramatic defeatist attitude. “Live a little. Pretend you’re eighteen again and do something ridiculous.”
She glares at me. “I’m twenty-three. I’m not pretending to be eighteen. I’m actually pretending not to vomit in public.”
Rylee wails, grabbing both of us by the hands. “Fine, fine! If you won’t do it, I’ll do it! I’ll pole dance for my own therapy.”
I snort, cutting her off. “You? On a pole? You’d break it before you even made it halfway up.”
She smacks my shoulder. “Hey! I’m young and flexible. Not like some… somestiffI know.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Stiff? Me? That’s it. You’ve gone too far. I’m doing it. But only to prove my superiority at absolute chaos.”
“Pics or it didn’t happen, bitch!” Rylee yells, even though I’m still literally standing right next to her.
I put my hand out, palm down, as the universal signal for “chill, drama queen.” “Relax. Let’s just… do this.”
Rylee claps her hands like a maniac. “Oh my God, yes! This is going to be legendary! Legendary!”
