Chapter Three
“What’s he drinking?” Tory asked when she walked into the apartment after being gone for only three hours.
“Did you find a job?” I asked her, knowing by the look on her face that she hadn’t.
“Not yet. Did you?” she asked, then pointed at the cup of milk in Cullen’s hand. “How do we have milk? You said we only had ten dollars left, and the gas tank is almost empty.”
“No one in town would hire me, thanks to the Jeep incident,” I told her.
“Then, why does he have milk?” she asked, raising her voice.
It was times like this, which was the majority of the time, that I wanted to slap my sister. This was her son, not mine, yet she was upset that I had bought him milk. When she saw the grilled cheese sandwich I was about to make for him, she would hit the roof. I was beyond caring at this point. I had just told her I couldn’t get a job in town because word had spread about Rio March’s Jeep, and it was her fault. She had caused this.
After being turned down all day, I had gotten home, and Cullen was red-eyed from crying while sitting on the sofa quietly with his coloring book. I waited until Tory left to go on a job hunt to ask him what was wrong. He hadn’t wanted the water and crackers Tory had given him for breakfast, and when he had asked her for milk, she had yelled at him. I hated when she acted as if he should understand that we had very little money. He was a baby, yet she treated him as if he were old enough to understand.
“It’s milk,” I told her.
“And neither of us has a job. What the fuck are you thinking?” she asked me, clearly annoyed.
“I’m going to get a job tonight,” I replied, fighting back the panic that I refused to allow to have any power over me.
“Where? You just said no one would hire you.” Tory was still talking too loudly.
“I don’t have it yet, but I will,” I replied, taking out the cheese from the fridge.
“Where?” she repeated.
I reached for the loaf of bread, then looked at her. “In Mobile. I will be working nights,” I said, then went back to fixing the grilled cheese for Cullen.
“Where in Mobile will you be working nights, Bryn?” She was getting annoyed.
“There is a place hiring that I found in the paper today. It pays more than I could make working anywhere else. I’ll be serving drinks.” I forced a smile for Cullen’s sake.
She didn’t say anything then, and I wasn’t sure if what I was telling her had sunk in or if she was done, trying to get specifics out of me. When I placed the sandwich in front of Cullen, she scanned my body with her gaze once, then narrowed her eyes.
“Are you gonna work at a strip club?” she asked, smirking.
“Don’t,” I warned her, cutting my eyes toward Cullen. I didn’t want him to ever know what I was planning on doing.
“It’s about time. You don’t use those things for anything else,” Tory said, pointing at my breasts before walking past me to go sit down on the sofa.
“Well, excuse me if I never wanted to use them for a source of income,” I snapped, then went to the tiny bathroom we all shared in the studio apartment to get a shower.
I took more time than was necessary simply because the more I allowed myself to think about what I was going to do, the harder it was going to be to go through with it. The life I had lived, the childhood I’d survived, it all had played a part in the woman I had become. Just because I had lost my innocence at a young age didn’t mean I was experienced.
The truth was, no man had ever seen me naked. At least, not since my mother had ended the life of the man who had sexually abused me. Intimacy terrified me, and I stayed away from it. I was modest because it was a security blanket for me. Now, after just turning twenty-one years old, I was going to pretend to be something I wasn’t for money. If it wasn’t for Cullen, I wouldn’t even consider it, but this job promised more money than we had ever brought in, even when we were both working.
If nothing else, my life had made me tough. Because of that toughness, I could do this, and I would. The first few nights would be hard. Time would make it easier. There was no future in my life that this would affect. It wasn’t as if this could come back to haunt me and mess up any grand plans I had. My main goal in life had become making sure Cullen had proper food and a safe place to live. Maybe there had also been that desire to get to The Shores and find Rio March.
Lucky me, I found him , I thought bitterly.
By the time I finished my makeup, I had convinced myself that not doing this would be selfish. It was what got me out the door and gave me the courage to walk in the doors of The Red Stiletto. My heart was slamming against my chest so hard that I was sure everyone could hear it as I made my way to the bar, where I had been told to go when I arrived.
I didn’t take in my surroundings. I was afraid to just yet. Although I knew what was happening around me, I preferred not to look. I needed a few minutes to adjust first. Keeping my focus on the colorfully lit bar, I headed directly for it.
A tall man with blond dreadlocks, covered in tattoos, wearing a tight-fitting black polo shirt, was pouring a drink behind the bar. He should have seemed out of place, yet somehow, he made tattoos and dreadlocks appear as elite as the upscale bar he was standing behind. He lifted his eyes to meet mine, then his gaze dropped, as if he were appraising what he could see of the rest of me. This was my life now. No reason to get offended.
“Hi, um, I’m Bryn Wallace. I was told to come to the bar and ask for Saint,” I said, hoping the loud music masked my nerves.
He smirked then and gave a small shake of his head before putting the tall, frosted mug on the counter.
“You found him,” he replied in a deep voice I recognized from the phone call I had made earlier. “Minx, table three,” he said loudly, then looked back at me. “Come this way.”
Keeping my eyes locked on Saint, I followed him as he walked out from behind the counter and then led me toward a red door to the far left behind the bar area. He opened it and stepped back, then waved a hand for me to go inside. I stepped into a large area with black-and-white striped walls and three more doors. All of them red, like the one we had walked through. The floor was a black marble, which must have been expensive.
“This way,” he said and opened the door to the right. “Marley typically handles the hiring, but she’s out on maternity leave. My job is to keep the girls safe, and I handle the money. Marley has never been good with numbers.” He didn’t go sit behind the desk in the middle of the room, but instead stood in front of it and leaned against it, crossing his arms in front of him.
“I’ve never had anyone come for an interview dressed … well, so completely covered. Makes me question what it is you’re hiding. You can’t hide it long. As you saw out there, very little is left hidden. We start girls here as servers. However, it’s a topless bar, and the bottoms you are given to wear cover only what they must.”
I swallowed nervously. I hadn’t considered that I might need to borrow one of Tory’s dresses to wear for this interview. I had chosen my best top—a soft white sweater—and a pair of black jeans.
“If those are real, then you’ll do well here. As you can imagine, the bigger, the better. Depends on what the rest of you looks like. Let’s see it.”
I stood there, staring at him, unsure exactly what “let’s see it” meant. Does he want me to just … strip? Right here in his office? Is this normal? I’d never stripped for anyone.
“Uh, you want me to, uh—” I began but wasn’t sure how to ask this.
“Take off your clothes. Yes. That’s what I want you to do.” He raised one eyebrow and leaned forward. “You are aware you’re applying for a topless server position at a strip club. The most elite one in Alabama with wealthy clientele, but it’s still a strip club.”
I swallowed hard and nodded my head. “Yes, I know. I just … well …” I couldn’t tell him I had never been naked in front of a man before.
The look in his eyes told me that he doubted me. I was losing the job already, and I needed this.
Remembering Cullen’s tears earlier today over milk, I reached for my sweater and pulled it over my head, only just then worrying about my bra. It wasn’t anything sexy or expensive. It was a basic white bra that did the job. My face felt as if it were on fire, and I didn’t look at Saint. I knew I needed to, but I was afraid it would do more harm than good. If he saw the terror in my eyes, then that would be the end of this interview.
I unbuttoned my jeans and pushed them down to the floor before stepping out of them. My panties were better than my bra. At least, I thought they were. Taking a deep breath, I focused solely on Cullen and being able to pay our bills, then lifted my head to meet Saint’s eyes. He was watching me closely.
“The genuine fear of getting undressed in front of a man is a major issue. Normally, when a female comes in here, asking for a job, she has no problem with stripping down what little clothing she is wearing. Rarely does she have on a bra,” he said. He uncrossed his arms, then sighed.
I wanted to defend myself and say something, but I didn’t think I could manage words just yet. I had never felt so exposed. There was a possibility I was trembling.
“Damn,” he muttered and ran a hand over his jaw. “Look, if my sister, Marley, were here, she would send you home. You’re not what we are looking for in a server—at least, not entirely. However, I’m not Marley. I’m a man, and you”—he waved a hand at me—“that body and that face, along with the naive good-girl persona? You’re gonna be a favorite. The men will love you.”
“I … I got the job then?” I asked, stumbling slightly over my words.
He rolled his head around, making a cracking noise with his neck, then groaned. “Yeah. I think you might. But I have to see the tits, darling. That is the selling feature for the floor job.”
I stared at him a moment, realizing he meant I had to take off my bra. “Oh,” I whispered, knowing he was right.
I had to get used to being topless. I nodded my head and tried to think about something else while I unhooked my bra. Nothing was working though. I couldn’t get myself out of this moment and this room.
When I felt the clasp slip free, I inhaled deeply, then let the bra fall forward as I slipped it off my arms and to the ground.
“Fuck,” he muttered. “Yeah, you got the job, but do me a favor. In the next two weeks, get rid of the terrified expression. Marley comes back then, and if she knows I hired a girl who’s scared shitless, she’ll be furious with me. I’m not in the mood to hear her bitch. Ever,” he said.
I nodded, relieved to have gotten the job and equally horrified that I was going to be walking around in a club full of people with nothing covering my breasts.
“You, uh, you said I would make twenty dollars an hour on weekday nights and forty dollars an hour on weekends?” I needed to make sure this was correct and not an average with tips. I knew tips weren’t always a sure thing, and I needed some reassurance.
He nodded. “Yes, but that’s not including tips. Weekend nights, you can make a lot more than that. I’ve seen waitresses go home with over two thousand in their pockets after tipping the front of house.”
“Two thousand,” I repeated, not sure I had heard that right.
He smirked. “It’s not every night, but it happens.”
Going home with even a few hundred dollars a night would change our lives. It would give Cullen a completely different world. Thinking about why I was doing this and who I was doing it for were the reasons I’d make it work.