I woke the next morning, staring at the ceiling fan spinning around. A tremendous feeling of loss was consuming my thoughts.
It was just another Sunday, yet it wasn’t. I was changed. But I didn’t know what to do with the differences. There was no place for me in the pole world—no place for me in my old world. So, I sat in the middle. Confused.
“Good morning, beautiful.”
Rolling my head to the side, I smiled at Mark’s pretty, perfect face. “Good morning.”
He scooted over the bed, buried his face in my neck, and started kissing me. “You smell so good.”
Giggling, I whispered, “What are you doing?”
“I’m kissing you.”
I closed my eyes. “Mmm, that feels nice.”
His lips made their way down to my collarbone, and he pulled the spaghetti strap of my tank down off my shoulder. I closed my eyes and relaxed into his gentle kisses. “You have the prettiest skin.”
Dark eyes teased me. ‘You look pretty.’
God bless! He was everywhere. I opened my eyes and scooted over onto my side, facing Mark and forcing him to stop kissing me.
He frowned. “You okay?”
I ran my finger between his brows, smoothing out the wrinkle. “Yeah, just a little tired still.”
Propping himself up on his elbow, he suggested we go to brunch.
“That sounds nice,” I said.
“We haven’t done that in a while, and, well, I’d like to spend some time with you. Just the two of us.”
“I’d like that, Mark.” I tucked my hands under my cheek and smiled at him sweetly. He pushed the hair off my face.
With tenderness, he kissed the tip of my nose. “Get up then, lazy. I’m hungry.”
I took my time getting ready, blowing out my hair and picking out the perfect outfit.
As I applied lotion, I noticed all the bruises on my upper arms and thighs from gripping the pole. I wouldn’t be wearing a sundress.
Instead, I dressed in a lemon-yellow jumpsuit, culotte-style, with long billowing sleeves. I felt pretty and feminine and was rewarded with a low whistle from Mark as I descended the staircase.
When I reached the bottom step, he enveloped me in a hug, and I relaxed into him. “Ready?”
I nodded my response. He held my hand as we went out the back door to the garage.
The ride to the restaurant was peaceful. Mark was his former adoring self, and I thought that maybe he had come around regarding my dancing.
My phone pinged with an incoming message. I ignored it.
“You can check that if you like.”
“I’ll get it later. It’s probably not important.”
We rode in silence for another mile or so, and he reached over to take my hand. Raising it to his lips, he kissed the back, and then said, “You know, we should start planning the wedding now that you have some free time.”
I tensed and had to force myself to relax. “Yes. Yes, we should.”
“We also have that gala we volunteered to host. Remember? The one in September for the American Cancer Association? Suzanne is organizing the auction, and—”
He kept talking.
Meaningless noise.
Same words, different year.
The world we’d built was so predictable. I retreated into my shell, nodding as needed and smiling when appropriate.
We arrived at the restaurant, and he jumped out to run around to my side of the car. Helping me out, he tucked me into his side and escorted me in.
The restaurant was tucked into the woods. This was rare for Houston: a hidden gem in the busy city. Made of logs, it had a rustic and romantic feel about it.
Tiered decks were cut into the bayou embankment, and the hostess seated us in a cozy corner looking out over the creek below.
The waitress brought us mimosas, and Mark toasted us. “To our bright future. I love you, Charlie.”
I raised my glass. “To our bright future.”
We went through the brunch buffet, and I loaded my plate with fresh fruit, scrambled egg whites with vegetables, and mini blueberry muffins.
Mark commented that I needed to eat more, so I grabbed a chocolate truffle and shoved the whole thing in my mouth, causing him to laugh.
When we were seated at the table, he mentioned that he talked to my boss the day before, and I stiffened.
“He said you could go back whenever you were ready. I thought since your thing was over, you might be ready to go back. I told him you would call him Monday morning.” He forked a bite of omelet into his mouth, and I took a sip of coffee, giving me time to gather my thoughts.
My phone pinged again, and we both glanced at my small handbag, neither of us saying anything.
“Actually, I’ve kind of been enjoying my time away. I thought I might go visit my parents.”
“Oh.” His tone was surprised.
I was surprised myself, but as soon as the words left my mouth, they felt right. “I haven’t seen them since Christmas. Maybe my mom can give me some ideas about the wedding.”
He reached his hand across the table and squeezed my fingers. “That sounds like a great idea, Charlie.” His voice was light and cheerful.
We finished our brunch, enjoying companionable conversation. Not once did he bring up my thing.
My comment to Solara last night about getting back to my real life, heard in the light of day, sounded so dismissive of her world. I needed to talk with her; I owed her an apology.
When we returned home, Mark pulled into the driveway and left the car running.
I shifted in the passenger seat so I could see him better. “Are you going somewhere?”
“I’m going to play a round of golf. I’ll be home after dinner. Go ahead and eat without me.”
Resting his arm behind me across the seat, he leaned into me, gently pressing his lips to mine. “Thank you for having brunch with me.”
I reached up to touch his cheek. “Of course, I’ll see you tonight.”
The house was quiet when I entered through the front door. I slipped off my shoes and went up the stairs to my room. Placing my shoes on the floor, I spoke into my phone, “Hey, Siri. Play ‘Gasoline.’”
My speaker responded, “‘Gasoline’ by Halsey. Now playing.”
The haunting, evocative music began to play, and I closed my eyes, swaying and moving to the dark words. I slowly started undoing the buttons on the front of my jumpsuit, shimmying it down my body.
When my clothes fell to the floor, I put my hands on the post on the bed. I ran through my dance from yesterday. This time, I heard Paxton’s words: ‘Dance like you want to fuck’. The dance took on an entirely different feel.
I was lost in the moves and the music, swinging my hips out and around. I became a seductress—dropping to my bedroom floor and practicing the body slide (which was difficult to do on carpet) and then a forward crawl.
I flipped my hair, lifted my legs, clicked my heels, and then dropped my legs to the ground as the song ended.
As I lay there catching my breath, I giggled and then pulled myself into a sitting position.
Mark was standing in the doorway. Reproach and desire swept over his face, warring with each other.
I wanted to make love with him, and so I sat there, watching him. Waiting.
“I forgot my club card.”
He crossed the room into the closet with long, quick strides. Emerging a few moments later, he tucked his wallet into the back pocket of his pants. His eyes flitted down me, and then he continued out of our room, saying over his shoulder, “I’ll see you tonight.”
I sat there speechless in the middle of the floor.
Then I started to laugh—uncontrollable, enthusiastic laughter that had tears falling from my eyes.
I stood and threw myself onto the bed on my back, smiling as I scrolled through my texts. I read the one from Solara first: It was so good to meet you – Remember, you aren’t strong because you pole dance, you pole dance because you are strong. Hugs, Sol
I could imagine her laugh. I texted her back: Good to meet you too. Thank you for the support
The one from Erin was a little more cryptic: Monday noon class – need to talk to you.
I sent her back a question mark.
The next text was to my mom. I made arrangements to fly out on Thursday and stay the weekend.
The rest of the day passed quietly. I spent most of it listening to music and watching YouTube videos on pole dancing.
I made a light salad for dinner, and then I sat out on the back deck enjoying the humid summer night air with a glass of white wine. A soft breeze stirred the pool water, and the lights reflected up into the trees, creating shadow waves.
I kept my phone close. Waiting. For what, I couldn’t admit.
Mark still wasn’t home when I went to bed, and he had left early for work when I woke up.
I took myself to the studio a little before noon and was greeted with an enthusiastic hug from Erin.
“Oh, my God! I’m so happy to see you!” She pulled me to the couch and launched into what was so important.
“After you left the restaurant the other night, Solara told Story that you would be perfect for their event coordinator position. Story needs help, and they are trying to hire someone.”
“Are you going to apply?”
She slapped my arm playfully. “No, silly. You are!”
“But I have a job, Erin. And I live here.”
My words didn’t deter her from enthusiastically pleading for me to join their team. “But you hate your job. And honestly, I think you hate your fiancé.”
“Erin!” I stood from the couch. “My relationship is none of your business.”
She blushed and sank low in the seat. “I’m sorry. You just always seem so unhappy when someone brings it up. And you were so happy this weekend.”
Inhaling and exhaling loudly, I sat down next to her. “How are you so young and yet so observant?”
She shrugged. “You feel like a big sister to me. I like you, and you seem happy here.”
I reached out to hug her, this dichotomy of a girl. Grown but childlike. Naïve yet wise. “I am happy here. For now, tell me more about the exotics.”
She lit up and started telling me how it was much more fluid and sexier. “They use lights and strobes, and the music is much more erotic and darker. There is way more floor work, and you can kind of dance… like, well… you touch yourself more.”
It was my turn to blush. She looked at her watch. “C’mon, we have time before class starts. I’ll show you.”
She took me into the studio and put some music on. Climbing the pole when the music started, she swung herself around, hooked to the pole behind her knee, and then swung up and hooked her ankles. After that, she dropped her head down and then slowly slid herself headfirst to the ground.
When she reached the floor, she slithered away from the pole, pushing her butt up in the air like an inchworm and then rolling over to her back. Then, she spread her legs, swiveling her right knee and running her hand down between her legs and her inner thighs.
Popping herself up on both knees, she ran her hands up and over her breasts, swinging her hair around and pushing her knees out and then back in, as if she was having sex on top. After a few ups and downs, she jumped up into a standing position, grabbed onto the pole, hooked her knee around it, and swung fast. As her free arm and leg swung out far, she leaned her head back until she slowly slid herself back down to the floor and came to a stop.
I stood, staring at her, speechless.
She smiled at me, her skin glistening from the exertion. “Something like that.” Then she laughed. “What? Why are you just staring at me?”
“I just—” I paused. “I just didn’t know you could do that.”
She waved me off. “Enh, it just takes practice.”
Dani opened the studio door. “Erin, there are people out there that need to check in for the noon class.”
Erin wiped her face with a towel. “I’ll be right out. Charlotte wants to do an Exotic.”
It was then that Dani noticed me standing in the corner. “Oh, hey, Charlotte. Sure, we can do that. Are you staying for the noon class?”
I was still in awe of Erin’s performance. I simply nodded and may have muttered an “Uh-huh.” Erin left the studio to help the girls in the lobby, and I went in the back to change.
Dani was her usual exuberant, engaging self during class, but I was distracted. I had felt really sexy when I did my performance. Watching Erin, though, I could almost understand why Paxton had said my dance was ‘cute.’
I went through the class’s motions, but I kept thinking about how I could do it better. Sexier. When I was packed up and ready to leave for the day, I told Erin I was going to be gone for a few days.
“Oh, where are you going?”
“I’m going to visit my parents.”
“In Arizona?”
“Scottsdale.”
She practically jumped out of her chair. “You should go to Phoenix and see the studio. It will blow. Your. Mind.” She made an exploding sound and released balled fists into spread fingers.
I hitched my bag over my shoulder and stepped back into my shoes. “Maybe. My mom and I are going to plan some wedding stuff, so I might not have time to run down there.”
“Ugh, boring, but okay.” She smiled at me and hugged me tightly. “I’ll see you when you get back. And I want to know all about it.”
She smiled knowingly; she knew I would go to the studio. Even I knew I would go to the studio.