“They come here a lot,” Enrique said, chopping a cucumber.
“They’re Dahlia’s friends,” Lolly said, still on lookout duty. “Been coming since she started dancing here. Speaking of — I gotta get on stage. Gotta shake this fine tush for all mama gave me.” She pushed up her tits and winked. “You gonna be alright, babe?”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”
“You sure? You can hide back here as long as you want. Remy won’t care if it’s slow.”
“I’m sure.”
“Alrighty then.” She blew me a kiss. “They better have their Franklins ready. Mama’s gonna make daddies blush.” Then she was gone, leaving me with Enrique and the steady hum of the AC.
I picked up my sandwich again. Put it back down. My appetite had officially died.
Two more hours. I could do this.
I couldn’t do this.
I absolutelycould notdo this.
Fuck this.
The moment I had gone out there, it wasn’t even Cross that had pissed me off. Well, not directly, at least. It was some Mr. Grabby-hands playing peekaboo with my ass cheeks right next to Black Psalm’s booth, and Cross doingnothingabout it. He had looked over and then — nothing. I don’t know why that sudden indifference got to me so much.
I’d slapped the guy’s hand away — hard enough that his buddies started laughing — and kept walking. Kept my head up. Kept that professional smile plastered on even though I wanted to scream.
But my hands were shaking when I got back to the service station.
Burgundy was there, counting her tips. She looked up when I approached, took one look at my face, and said, “Who do I need to cut?”
I sighed and fell apart over the counter next to her, screaming into my hands. Luckily, the bass drowned it out. I raised my head slowly. “It’s just… harder than I thought it would be.”
Burgundy glanced over her shoulder at the floor, then back at me. She was beautiful. Dark, ebony skin — so dark it looked almost black in this light, and a body us mere mortals could’ve only dreamt about.
“Look, I’m gonna say this not to be mean but because my mama was always straight with me, and I think that gets the point across the quickest,” she said, fixing her dark eyes on me. “You either do, or you don’t — but you shut up about it.”
Her words left me on a pause.
Then she continued a little softer. “Baby, I don’t like being here any more than you do. But I got a little girl back home who loves Chanel.”
I blinked at her. “You have a daughter?”
“Seven years old. Likes expensive shit — just like her mama.” Burgundy’s mouth twitched into something that might’ve been a smile if she let it. “And her daddy ain’t worth the skin he’s wrapped in, so it’s just me and her. Which means I gotta do what I gotta do to keep a roof over our heads and her in that fancy charter school she loves.”
I felt my throat tighten. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to—”
“Don’t apologize.” She waved me off. “I’m just saying — we all got our reasons for being here. And none of them are pretty. But standing around feeling sorry for yourself ain’t gonna make the night go faster or the tips bigger.”
She was right. I hated that she was right, but she was.
“Frankly, if Milo offered me thirty grand to blow him — I wouldn’t bat a fucking eye, baby girl. Good Lord knows I’ve done worse for less,” she said.
I laughed despite myself. It came out watery and pathetic, but it was still a laugh.
“See?” Burgundy nudged my shoulder. “You’re already feeling better.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“Well, fake it till you make it, honey. That’s the whole job.” She finished counting her stack of bills and tucked them into her sparkly bra. “How much more you’ve got on the clock?”
