Chapter 5
I Will Survive
Ican’thelplaughingas I attempt the twirl again. The girl beside me has it perfectly, but I must look like a baby giraffe, all limbs, in my booty shorts and tank top. Paige has taken me and another couple of new girls into the adjoining club so she can teach us some basic dances. This place is completely empty, and according to Paige, won’t be open for another couple of weeks, so it’s the perfect spot to learn the routine. It smells of fresh paint and looks just as slick as the club next door, and I can’t help but wonder why they have this space as well. I guess it’s good if they areexpanding.
The other two girls, Cindy and Becky, have a lot more experience than I do and have picked up all her moves perfectly in the hour we have been here. Me, not so much. I’m used to pointe shoes and a barre; a pole is a different apparatus to wrap my head around.
I can feel Paige’s assessing eyes on me as she walks past. She makes me nervous. What if she decides I’m not up to scratch? I’m screwed, that’s what. “It’s obvious you know how to move, Daisy, but you’re going to have to work on your upper-body strength if you want to incorporate some tricks on the pole the other dancers can do.”
I force a smile. “I’ll work on it,” I mutter back, trying again to pull myself up like she just showed us. She’s not wrong. I have a newfound appreciation for these girls. They are so strong, and sitting on my ass in Valentine’s club for the last few years, banned from dancing of any kind, hasn’t been ideal preparation. But I know I can get this. I have to because I need this job.
“She’s too stuck-up to be a stripper,” Cindy snips over her shoulder in Becky’s direction. They seem to have become fast friends, or maybe they already knew each other. Either way, I don’t like the glare she gives me and how she tries to include Becky in gossiping about me.
Paige turns abruptly. “Say it again and you will be the first to fail my class,” she snaps in her direction.
Cindy shuts her bitchy mouth up tight and goes back to perfecting her moves.
Paige leans in closer so only I can hear her. “I’ll let you in on a secret. I started out as a ballerina as well, danced professionally and all.” She smiles warmly. “Sometimes, Daisy, life takes you in different directions to what you had planned out, but Asher believes in you, so if you want to give this a go, I will make sure you’re ready for the end of the week.”
I return her warmth. “Thank you. I really need this job.”
“Then I’ve got you.” Her eyes light up in a way that makes me believe her. Paige must be in her late thirties, with perfect porcelain skin and long, sandy-blonde hair that she wears up in a high ponytail. She’s wearing booty shorts and a tank top like the rest of us, her figure athletic even though she moves with the grace of a ballerina.
She shows me again, and I give it another go, gripping my hands tightly against the pole as I lift off the ground.
Abruptly the music shuts off, and Paige looks over her shoulder to see what’s going on. There, by the sound system, is the infamous Sloane Stryker herself, hands on hips and glare directed straight at me. She’s in a perfect white pantsuit and looks the epitome of power and elegance. Her long, blonde hair is out in soft waves and her make-up is painted to perfection. Exactly what I expected. The only thing that throws me is the cast on her wrist.
I suck in a deep breath. I knew this moment was coming, and I guess I was biding my time until she worked out I was here working in her club. But the whole badass boss bitch thing really doesn’t intimidate me like I think she wants it to. I have my in at her club, a job, and I’m going to make sure I keep it now.
“Be back in a sec,” Paige says then moves through the room toward her boss, probably wondering what exactly she’s done to piss her off.
I hop off the stage, leaning into it as I cross an arm over the other, so ready for the showdown. If I’m being honest, I have been waiting for this moment since she shipped me off to the country with my brother a month ago. You don’t get to turn my life upside down and get away with it. I don’t care who your family is.
Once she and Paige are done talking, Sloane strides toward me, her heels clicking on the concrete as she goes. “A word in my office,” she snips, her voice bitchy as all hell, nothing like the fun Sloane I metin Italy. But this is what I expected. I could see it in the way she looked at my husband, the way she reacted when she saw the bruises on my arms. There is a whole other side to her. A harshness when she feels as though she or someone she cares about has been wronged.
“Sure,” I snap back.
Out of nowhere, Asher comes barreling toward us with a worried expression on his handsome face. “Hey, little sis, see you have met my new hire.”
Her lips turn up at the sides when she greets her brother as he kisses her cheek, but the smile doesn’t meet her eyes. “You can join us in my office as well,” she seethes as she strides through the VIP lounge and into the main bar. She walks with so much purpose that it’s almost hard to keep up with her long strides. Especially in the stupidly high stripper heels I have on.
Asher glances over his shoulder at me, scanning my face for any idea as to why his sister is so annoyed. I just shrug. He’s going to find out soon enough.
We follow along behind her. I feel like a naughty school kid sent to the principal’s office.
And when she closes her door with a slam, I can’t help but jump. She motions for me to take a seat on the jade-green sofa in the center of her office. This place is so Sloane, all classy and elegant. There is also the distinct smell of vanilla, a little candle burning on the coffee table.
I do as I’m told, waiting patiently for her wrath. See, I know how much trouble I have caused by taking off and leaving my brother and family behind stressing over me. But right now, I don’t care. For years I suffered because of them. Until this woman came into my life and turned it upside down. And now it’s time for me to have my own life, and she is going to help me do it.
“Sit, Asher,” she snaps at him when he hovers beside her, like he’s some mischievous kid.
He takes a seat in the armchair, leaning back as he plonks his shoes on the coffee table.
She leans against the desk, looking down her nose at the two of us. “Do you know who this is?” She motions to me, but her attention is on her brother, a deathly glare focused on him, and I know the question is directed at him.
He looks me over again, his eyes narrowing in confusion. Something in it makes me swallow hard. I don’t want him to get in trouble because of me. That wasn’t why I lied to him. “Should I?” he asks, sounding confused.
“What is the first thing big brother always taught us before we hire anyone or let them into our inner circle?” Her glare intensifies.
