ONE
KITTY ORTEGA
I walked off stage as gracefully as I could manage. I hadn’t hit the gym this morning, and my body was feeling it.
I walked over to the space I claimed as mine when I got to the dressing area earlier and tossed on a small, baby-blue cropped tee I’d left there before I started working on taking the bills out of the itty-bitty bikini bottoms. Movement in the mirror caught my attention, and I glanced up just as Maryanne stepped into the dressing room.
“Need help?” she asked timidly.
The girl always looked terrified. Or stressed out. Or both. There was definitely something going on with her; not that I would be the one to find out. I wasn’t exactly friendly. According to Jade, my long-time friend and co-worker, she was our age but looked a hell of a lot younger and too damn innocent to be twenty-four and working at the Velvet Leopard. Even with all the upgrades and safer vibes Jonas Porter had made these last couple of months, she seemed untouched. Too pure and innocent to be a stripper.
Part of me wanted to roll my eyes at her and shake her before telling her to grow up. That the sweet, scared, doe-eyed look would only get her so far in life. Especially this life, where the higher the heel and skimpier your costume, the better. My other side, though, a softer one hardly anyone ever saw, wanted to sit her down and tell her to find some other place to work because this industry would chew her up and spit her out before spring ended.
“Yeah,” I chose to say. Maryanne set her bag down on the vanity and moved closer. She picked up the bills that littered the ground, and together, we shoved the money into the bag I carried. “Thanks,” I mumbled before eyeing her.
“No problem.” She smiled tightly. I could tell she didn’t know what to do with me being somewhat nice.
“What are you dancing to tonight?” I asked, trying to make conversation. I blamed Jade and her sweetness working with me for almost two years now had somehow rubbed off on me. Though, the last month, she’d been working less and less.
Not that I blamed her.
I would come in a hell of a lot less if I had a strong, obsessed, handsome man doting on me, looking at me like I was the sole reason stars existed in the sky like she did. Lucas Porter was positively and possessively in love with her. Which worked out because Jade was head over heels for the guy, too, staring at him as if he hung the moon for her.
The whole thing was disgustingly sweet.
But Jade’s story is the exception, not the rule, a cynical voice reminded me. Something it constantly had to do since Jonas Porter had taken over the Velvet Leopard.
“I was thinking about “Milkshake,”” Maryanne shared. I opened and shut my mouth, stopping myself from saying something snarky or bitchy.
“Good choice,” I chose to say instead. “If you need a costume for when you hit the floor,”—I pointed towards my locker—“I mean, if you want to.”
“Oh.” Her bright blue eyes widened. “Thanks,” she said softly, and I nodded.
I studied her for a moment as she walked to the vanity and sat down. Her makeup was already done up in an almost natural way, which definitely worked for her. Her glossy black hair shone brightly under the slightly fluorescent lighting of the dressing room. She was pretty.
“You hitting the floor?” she asked without judgment. It was no secret that I hadn’t actually hit the floor since the doors opened under our new owner.
“Eventually.” I sat down at my spot and looked at myself in the mirror. At twenty-four, I felt a lot older than my age. Life was… a lot at times.
I glanced at Maryanne through the mirror.
The way those bright blue eyes slowly seemed to go slightly dull, as if she was mentally preparing herself for what she was about to do, tugged at that soft side inside me, but before I could say anything, Stef and Gretchen walked in.
“Look what we have here! The boss’ pet and the little sweet virgin.” Gretchen’s voice dripped with inauthenticity.
“Maryanne, what have we told you? Be careful of Kitty. She might go telling on you to the new boss. How is our hot boss? You finished with him yet, Kitty?” Stef asked.
My eyes caught Maryanne’s in the mirror before the two of us simultaneously ignored them and their little catty taunts. But I could tell with the way Gretch was looking at me that she was in a mood. She sashayed her way over to where I was fixing my makeup and sat her skinny ass on the vanity next to me. Not on the chair but the actual table.
“Come on, Kitty cat, tell us the truth. You’re doing something extra so he keeps you back there all night?”
“Don’t you get tired of being a bitch, Gretch?” I asked, unfazed by her bitchiness.
“Takes one to know one,” she responded like she thought she was being original when she wasn’t. I simply rolled my eyes and locked our gazes.
“Never said anything differently.” The smirk on her face slowly faded. “But it does get tiring, doesn’t it? I mean… you’re what now? Twenty-six? Twenty-seven? We’ve been doing this catty bitch shit for how long now? Since I started here? That was five, six years ago?”
“Whatever,” she huffed, hopping off the vanity. “Maybe when Jonas gets tired of you, he’ll move on to Maryanne. You know… someone… nicer. It will be interesting to see you go back on the floor where you belong with us, trying to get these assholes to open their wallets.” And with that, she thought she got in the last word.
