“Did you?”
“Yeah. It’s, uh, sort of sparkly.”
“Red and sparkly.”
“It is sort of … small.”
“Is it?” He quirks a tiny smile.
“Yeah, it’s a wire around here,” I point across my rib cage. “And two red circles here.” I gesture to my chest.
“How big are those circles?” he asks.
I make a circle with my finger and thumb, not much more than a quarter.
His eyebrows lift. “That’s small.”
“The bottom is sort of … not much. Just a string with a tiny triangle here.” I point toward the middle of my skirt.
“Do you like wearing it?” he asks.
I swallow hard. “I might like wearing it … for you.”
He inhales sharply, his chest moving out. “I see.”
“Should I do that? Bring it?”
His Adam’s apple bobs. “All right.”
“When you have the pole, of course.”
He nods. “I’ll let you know when.”
We stand there for a moment. I’m not sure if he’s picturing me in this outfit. I know I am. And how he might look at me. I remember his gaze in the mirror at the studio.
He pushes away from the desk. “Come on. Let’s show you the ropes.”
I follow him out, my entire body on fire.
But honestly, I can’t wait.
CHAPTER 16
MERRICK
Watching Marietta work with the customers is both fun and maddening.
She’s easygoing with them, flirty and lighthearted. She doesn’t know many drinks, so she has them explain them to her, which everyone seems to find funny or endearing.
But they look at her. Her ass, her legs, her cleavage. I spend most of the night in a state of rage.
Yeah, there’s no way she can dance at the bar. I’d murder everyone in the building.
During the slow periods, while she’s chatting up customers in her bright, naive way, I look up removable poles. They’re easy to get, about a grand, and are no problem to set up and take down.
I order one to be delivered in a few days, and that’s that.
My groin tightens just thinking about it. The red outfit she described. Her on my stage. Dancing for an audience of one.
