So, that’s a lap dance.
I’ve never seen one before, and my gaze is glued to them as she rocks her pelvis back and forth. He’s lounged back in his chair, legs spread wide with a lazy grin on his face, clearly enjoying himself.
About halfway through the song, she straightens and turns around, straddling him so they’re face-to-face. His hands are tucked into fists as if it’s taking all his control not to touch her.
Destiny sets her hands on his shoulders and rocks her pelvis against his. My skin grows tight, and I hold my breath as I watch her simulate sex with him. Then she reaches for his face and brings it down between her breasts. She arches and flings her head back as though she’s in the throes of ecstasy as she moves his face back and forth over her naked flesh.
I’m horrified, but worse than that, I’m turned on and unable to stand from my seat.
The space between my legs thrums, and I feel the distinct urge to shift and press my thighs together. As the notes in the song climb and climb, thrumming closer toward a crescendo, so do her movements. I, as well as the others, watch with rapt attention.
It’s only when someone walks through my line of sight that I snap out of my daze. I blink slowly as if coming out of a stupor.
“What am I doing?” I bolt up from the table with my mug in hand and hurry across the expanse of the club to the relative safety of the door leading backstage.
My breaths come fast and quick as I hustle down the hallway to the office, rushing inside and closing the door behind me. Thankfully, Bastion isn’t here.
What is happening to me? I was watching that man and that woman, and I was enjoying it. The thought of what my parents would say, what the people at my church would think, has bile racing up my throat. I swallow it back and collapse into my seat.
I was more than enjoying it. I craved more of the feeling watching them gave me. My body physically responded. I… I’ve never had that happen before. I may not be a virgin—something I hate to think about—but I’ve never felt arousal like that before.
This is exactly why my parents and the church warned me away from places like this. They’re constantly testing you, and not everyone passes the test.
“I can’t work here anymore.”
I swivel my chair to face my computer. If I send Bastion an email with my resignation and thanking him for giving me a chance, maybe I can be out of here and packed and on a plane back to Wisconsin tonight.
I pull up my email to begin my resignation, but my gaze snags on the first email in my inbox—NOTICE OF DIRECT DEPOSIT. I open it to see that I’ve been paid for my first week of work, and my mouth falls open.
It’s not that I didn’t know how much this job paid, but seeing it in black and white hits different. This is practically what I made in a month at my old job.
My eyes close, and I slump back in my seat. This money could help my parents so much. And me—I could establish a realnest egg. Then in the future, if anything else happens with my parents, I’d be able to help them.
I don’t know what to do. Will I become morally corrupt if I remain in this job? Is it selfish to quit when doing so won’t let me help my parents? If they knew where I was really working, they’d tell me to be on the first flight home regardless of the fact that it would hurt them.
Then there’s the idea of leaving Bastion… something about that doesn’t sit well with me even though we’re nothing more than colleagues and friends. And roommates for the time being.
When I think about him showing me around Seattle tomorrow, that bubble of excitement enlarges. Wasn’t this what I wanted? To have a new adventure because I felt like something was missing in my life?
Maybe that’s exactly why I’ve been led here. Perhaps it doesn’t have to mean anything that I was aroused watching the show out there. Isn’t that the whole point? I just won’t expose myself to it again, and it will be fine.
I can still remain the Hattie I’ve always been, regardless of the temptation surrounding me.
There’s a brisk knock on the door, then it whips open to reveal an attractive woman at least a decade my senior. She scowls at me. “Who the hell are you?”
22
BASTION
When I walk through the threshold to my office, I find Steph with her arms crossed and standing over Hattie, scowling at her. Hattie seems as though she’s in the middle of explaining her role here.
“She’s my assistant, Steph. Sorry, I’m late. I had to clear something up with our liquor distributor. Hattie, this is Steph. She’s my eyes and ears at all the other locations. Steph, this is Hattie. She’s helping me with the finances and whatever else I need.”
Steph arches one of her manicured eyebrows at me, probably wondering if Hattie helps me in the same way that she does. Not yet, unfortunately. Especially after that fashion show the other day. Her new outfit is actually killing me today.
“Nice to meet you.” It’s clear from Hattie’s voice that she’s intimidated by Steph, and for some reason, that irks me.
“Hattie, why don’t you take off for the day? You were here early.”
