Snickering, I shrug, trying to play it off. “Don’t know what you’re talking about, just trying to engage in the conversation.”I am one hundred percent trying to figure out her age.
She exhales, waggling her brows. “I’m twenty-four, been with the club for seven years. Just trying to help my family.”
I can understand that, and she seems so genuine when she talks about her family too. “What was Stuart diagnosed with?”
“Autism. It’s not severe, but it is enough to stop him from living a normal life. Under high-stress situations, it is difficult to manage.”
I puff out a gust of air through my mouth. “Wow! You’re kind of amazing.”
“Me? No. Mum is amazing. She’s really good with Stuart.”
“But you give her the moneytobe good with Stuart.”
She weakly smiles through a soft shrug. “I do, but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
My eyes meet hers as I hesitate on whether to ask her this next question or not. But I decide to just go for it. “If you had a chance to leave the club and do something else… would you?”
She sighs and tilts her head in thought. “I love the club. It’s been my life for years. I don’t know anything else.”
“The world is big and full of plenty of opportunities. You don’t have to be a stripper all your life.”
She narrows her eyes on me. “Is there something wrong with being a stripper?”
Shit!I tense. “No, that’s not what I meant at all. I’m just saying there’s more out there, and you should be open to it.”
Her face softens. “For the last four and a half years, I’ve been Lunar… club girl. I would like to get back to being Annalise Sheffield, the girl who dreamed of something more.”
I bring my hand up to her face, gently sliding some pink hair behind her ear. “Annalise… that’s your name?” She nods and leans into my hand as I cup her cheek. “Nice to meet you. I’d tell you my real name, but that’s a story in itself.”
She furrows her brows. “Oh, c’mon, Danger, it’s only fair. I think we should have no secrets.Including names.”
I scrunch up my face in disdain.
I fucking hate my name.
I fucking hate my parents more for their hippy bullshit.
And the last time I told someone the truth about my name, the bitch laughed in my face.
Fucking, Ella.
My nameisridiculous.
So I don’t blame her for laughing because most people do when they hear it.
I brace myself and start, “Okay, well… my parents are assholes.”
She smirks. “Oka-a-ay?”
“I was born on April first, no joke.”
“April Fool’s baby. Yeah, that’s gotta suck.”
“Yeah, no kidding. Anyway, my parents think every damn thing is a joke. So, seeing as I was born on the biggest prank day of the year, they thought they’d be funny and name me something ludicrous.”
“Oh dear, this isnotsounding good.” Her nose crinkles upward at the tip.
I clench my eyes tight and just come out with it, “My name is Dwayne Pipe. As in,drain pipe.”
