He sat behind his desk after calling me into his office. Jeff could be two men. One day he could be your best friend, giving you the best shifts and paying you the overtime you deserved, and the next he would be atotal sleazeball, underpaying you and watching you get changed. You could never relax around him, and that night was clearly no exception, but Iwasn’tworried. Ihad grown up in ahouse full of men, and Iknew how to handle myself.
“Thanks,” Ireplied with an absent smile. Jeff’shazy gaze was on me and Iinwardly cringed. Iwasn’tin the mood for this bullshit. After the day I’dhad, all Iwanted was aforty-ounce, abag of Cheetos, and my oversized hoodie.
Unfortunately, that night, Jeff was in sleazeball mode.
“You really got those men eatin’ outta that pretty palm of yours, huh?” His words were slurred and Irecognized the way his eyes rolled in his head, his pasty skin sweating. Jeff was high, and ahigh Jeff was the worst kind of Jeff. “Knew you were gonna be agood hire...despite your age. Maybe even because of it,” he leered.
My smile slipped infinitesimally. The ID I’dused to get the job hadn’tbeen the best, but I’dthought it would fool Jeff for sure. It seemed Ihadn’tbeen fooling anyone. Istraightened my features, keeping my expression neutral.
Rule number one of life was never let people know they can fuck you over.Blaséall the fucking waywas my motto, and if Jeff thought he could fuck me over with that information, he was going to be sorely disappointed.
He held my unimpressed gaze for several long moments, but when Ididn’tback down, he leaned down to the safe under his desk, turning the dial several times before it clicked open. When it did, he reached inside and pulled out alarge wad of cash and then turned back to me, slowly counting it out on the aged oak desk that was stained with all sorts of things—beer and liquor, mostly. There were scorch marks from cigarettes, pen scrawlings with names and phone numbers, doodles. It was awell-loved desk that had seen better days, that was for damn sure. Ihad no doubt that he’dfucked many astripper over the top of it, but Ihad no intention of being one of them, no matter how much he tried to blackmail me. Because that was clearly where this was leading.
“How many hours was it again?” he asked.
Irefrained from rolling my eyes and instead smiled sweetly. “Three full shifts.”
He continued counting it out in front of us, deliberately slow, and Iwatched him with eagle eyes, counting in my head as each note landed on the growing stack. He looked up from his counting, noting how Iwatched his hands holding my money.
“Why are you always in such ahurry to get out of here, Jolie?” Jeff licked his lips, his expression turning almost angry. “Do you think you’re better than me?”
Ifrowned, my hand reaching inside my bag as Iheld his gaze. “No, Jeff,” Iscoffed. “It’snot like that. Ijust need my money and then Iwant to go home.”
He sneered, and it took all of my control not to throw something at him. But Ineeded money and Ineeded ajob and Jeff was the keeper of both of those things. Fuck him to hell and back.
“Then stay, have adrink with me. You’ve been here for nearly ayear now and we barely know each other.” He stood up, picking up my cash from the desk, and he took astep toward me. Irecognized the predatory move. It wasn’tthe first time aman had approached me like that, and it wouldn’tbe the last. Since eleven, when I’dstarted growing tits and an ass, I’dbeen warding off men’sadvances, so Iknew how to handle myself. It didn’tmake it any less annoying though.
What was it with men thinking that they could intimidate awoman by getting too close? Like invading our personal space was going to make us suddenly fall to our knees in awe of their manliness. The days of cavemen were over. Only it seemed that some men hadn’tgotten the memo.
“No thanks. Ihave things to be doing, but I’ll see you tomorrow night.” Ireached out to grab my money from him, both of us knowing that he was shortchanging me.
Regardless, he moved his hand away, stopping me from taking what was mine, and stepped even closer.
“Jeff?” Icocked an eyebrow at him. “I’mgoing to need you to give me my money and then move out of my way before we both do things we might regret.”
“I’ve been real good to you, Jolie, so Ithink you should come have adrink with me. It’sthe least you can do,” he slurred, his hand reaching out to touch me. “Ipay your wages, after all, Ithink you should be showing me alittle more respect than this.”
Istepped back from him, my eyes narrowing. “Well, Ithink you’re my boss and I’mtired and Iwant to go home. Ithink Ilike to dance and being here gives me the power to get paid for something Ilove to do. Ithink that you might be my boss, but Idance, and that’sall you fucking pay me for.” Iheld his gaze steadily and he chuckled. “And like you said, there’smy age to consider.”
“Isthatwhat the problem is?” He reached for me and Itook another step backwards. My hand, still deep in my bag, gripped the heaviest thing it could find in my bag—one of my favorite stilettos. “You want to be paid for giving it up?”
It was my turn to laugh then. “Oh, Jeff, how did you get this so mixed up?” Itook another step back as he came closer. Ineeded the distance between us. “I’madancer, not awhore,” Ispat.
“Adancer?” He sneered. “Imean, you ain’tno ballet dancer are you, Jolie. You show your tits, flash that pretty pussy, and grip apole like it’sacock...that’snot exactly dancing, now, is it.”
Aflash of anger raged through me at his words. He had no idea what it took to get up on that stage. The skill and the strength involved. If that wasn’tdancing Ididn’tknow what was. Sure, Ididn’twear aballgown or ballet shoes, but my body was strong and flexible—more so than any typical dancer’s. Icould move in ways most dancers would only ever be able to dream of, every muscle trained to perfection.
“You’re only one step away from letting people pay for it, so what’sthe difference? You think you’re any better than those little sluts?” His hand reached for me, and just as his fingers grazed the strap of my camisole, Ijerked back.
Jeff looked pissed.
But Jeff could suck it.
“Firstly,” Ibegan, irritated that the night had turned so sour after an already shitty day, “women who give it up for money, as you so profoundly put it, are not sluts, you fucking leech. Secondly, as arule, Idon’tthink I’mbetter than anyone. Everyone has astory, and unless Iknow what that story is, Idon’tjudge. However, the exception to that rule is you, Jeff. You’re asleazeball, jackass, who was given every opportunity in life and instead of doing something meaningful with your pathetic existence, you decided that coercing women to fuck you and getting high with any profits this shithole dive made was the best use of your time…”
“You ungrateful little bitch!” Jeff roared. “You’re fired! Ya hear me!”
Irolled my eyes. “Please, Ifucking quit, Jeff. Iquit you, this place, and men altogether because you’re all the goddamn same.”
