One of the dancers comes out of a stall. I don’t remember her name from the quick introduction a short time ago. She’s wearing a pink wig, sparkly black booty shorts, and a white stretchy crop top that has a bunch of holes in it.
“Just a little overwhelmed.” I feel like an idiot. She’s probably looking at me, judging me as some goody two shoes. That I think I’m too good for this place.
Her lips tip down, and she squeezes my shoulder. “It’s a lot if you’re not used to this kind of thing. I’m Renee, by the way.”
Her genuine niceness allows me to relax a little bit.
“I remember my first time onstage, I thought I was going to pass out. My legs felt like Jell-O.” She laughs, obviously remembering it. “I was sure I was going to fall flat on my face and make a fool out of myself. I almost didn’t step out on stage.”
“What made you do it?”
She smiles, and her eyes sparkle. “I remembered who I was doing it for. I just pictured my little baby boy at home. If I wasn’t going to provide for him, who was?”
It’s obvious from the look on her face that she loves her son very much.
“How old is he now?”
“Elijah? He’s four now. Best thing I’ve ever done. I’ll show you some pictures next time I have my phone with me.”
I give her a smile. “I’d like that.”
She sets her hands on her hips and sighs, looking me up and down. “Listen, I mean no disrespect, but looking at you, it’s clear you’re not used to this kind of life, so I’m gonna assume that ifyou took this job, there’s a reason. You just gotta remember your why. Any time you’re questioning it, remember your why.”
“Remember my why,” I repeat, picturing my parents in my head and that stack of bills with red print.
“Exactly. I have to go finish getting ready, but I’ll see you around, okay? Hang in there.” She squeezes my shoulder again and walks toward the exit. When her hand is on the door handle, she turns and looks at me over her shoulder. “Oh, and don’t worry about what Ashley said in the changing room. She’s just a bitch.” She winks at me, then leaves the restroom. “Oh, hey, boss.”
Does everyone in Seattle wink?
I feel a little better now. Maybe Renee is right—I just need to remember my why.
I’ll give it the week and see how I feel. If the why doesn’t outweigh how uncomfortable I am, I can always go home.
Decision made, I turn and leave the restroom.
Bastion leans against the wall opposite the door with his arms crossed. “Feel better?”
“Yes, actually, I do.”
He nods. “Good, let’s go back to my office. We can order something to eat while I go through the rest of the stuff with you.”
“Sounds good.” I follow him, feeling a little guilty for not telling him that I’m giving this job a week before I make a decision about it. But I have a feeling he could convince me to do almost anything, as evidenced by the fact that I’ve moved to a new city, I’m living with him, and working at his strip club.
No, I need to figure out whether I can stay in Seattle for myself.
19
HATTIE
Since Bastion told me I can set my own hours, on Tuesday and Wednesday, I make sure I’m at the club by nine in the morning. At least this way I can get work done uninterrupted, and I’m not forced to face the debauchery of the environment I’m in. No one else is here except for the cleaners, who arrive mid-morning. Bastion arrives around lunchtime.
I make sure to stay in the office once everyone else arrives mid-afternoon, and when I leave, I keep my head down until I’m back out on the street.
As far as the tasks I have to do for my job, that portion of things is going well. That’s one thing I’ve always liked about numbers—they’re constant. And while the software I’m using might be different, as are the processes that each business uses, math is math, and it doesn’t change.
I haven’t seen Bastion around the condo since I’ve been going in to work early and he stays late at the club, so it’s like I have the entire place to myself. Though it sounds good, I’ve been lonely. It reminds me a lot of when I first moved to Wisconsin. I decided last night that I would see if there’s a church nearby that I canattend. Not only will it help me center myself, but it might lead to me making some friends. Lord knows there’s no one at work I have anything in common with.
On Thursday evening, I’m about to shut everything down for the day when my phone buzzes on my desk. I pick it up to see a message from Taylor.
