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“What the fuck, Becca—”
“Don’t worry,” Laura assures me after shooting Annie a look. “We know why we’re here. I’ll keep Annie in line and we’ll work this out, I promise,” she assures me.
I hope she’s right. We get out and while Laura leads a still fuming Annie toward the entrance, I wait outside for Amy.
“What are you doing?” Laura frowns, turning back to me.
“I’m just waiting for Amy,” I explain. “I invited her.”
“Ah, the elusive Amy,” she teases. “I was beginning to think she was just in your head.”
“No, she gets me in too much trouble not to be real.”
“Yo!”
I turn around and smile at Amy, who’s running up the sidewalk, her blond hair flapping around her in the wind. How she manages to move that fast in her six-inch heels and a dress so short I’m afraid to watch her too closely, I have no idea. Then again, I guess you’d need to know how to move, working in a strip club bar. I’m still shocked by that revelation. Did she wear the required uniform, short shorts and nipple tassels? I chuckle, because if that look was going to suit anyone, it would be Amy.
“Thanks for waiting for me,” she puffs, leaning against the wall for support. She glances at Laura and Annie, and smiles. “You guys must be Becca’s friends?”
“Laura, and that’s Annie. Guys, this is Amy.”
After they exchange greetings, we walk inside. I push through the doors, feeling strangely nervous about being back here. It’s early evening, so it’s pretty quiet, but there are still a few people sitting at the bar, or down in the lounge area, watching a show.
I brace myself and look around, relieved when nobody calls out my name. I was half expecting the place to erupt into cheers and applause, or request an encore, but I’m just another chick walking into the strip club with a bunch of other chicks. Okay, so we’re getting a few looks…
Maybe nothing happened, and I’ve just blown everything out of proportion.
I’ve almost convinced myself that I’m off the hook, when I start to notice things. Like the chick behind the bar, who I swear is trying not to laugh as she sneaks glances at me. I cross my arms over my chest and stare at her until she looks up again. Her gaze drops as she focuses extra hard on pouring six little shots of vodka. Then I see who she’s serving. Annie. A laughing, singing Annie who from here, looks like she’s flirting with the bar chick.
“Shit, already?” I groan.
“What?” Amy asks.
“Annie. She’s into the alcohol already.”
“So?” Amy shrugs. “You’re not her mother. Do what you’re here to do and then worry about everyone else.”
It sounds harsh, even for me, but she’s right. If Annie is intent on making the most of tonight, then nothing I do is likely to stop her anyway.
“Come with me.” Amy takes me by the hand and leads me over to Annie.
“I know Mandi. I used to work here, remember?” Amy’s eyes shine. “Maybe I’ll actually be useful to you.”
I lean with my back against the counter and raise my eyebrows at Annie, who scowls back at me, then orders herself another round.
“This is your idea of helping me out?”
Annie looks up and frowns at me.
“Fun police,” she grumbles. “I look forty, remember? What else am I gonna do but get drunk and forget my miserable life?” She stands up, taking a moment to keep her balance, before she walks off in Laura’s direction.
I groan and turn around. I wasn’t serious when I told her that. I’d wanted to wind her up, which I clearly had. It annoyed me that she could shovel shit out, but then she acted like this when anyone gave it back to her.
“Sombrero! I’m surprised to see you back here.”
I snap out of my thoughts and stare at the barmaid. Amy nudges me hard in the side as the chick behind the bar grins at me.
“Mandi was just filling me in.” She laughs. “You little hussy!”
“You remember me?” I ask Mandi. I’m not sure I want to know the answer to that.
And what the hell does sombrero mean?
“It’s a bit hard to forget someone who steals a sombrero and dances along the top of the bar, wearing that and not much else.” She lets out a husky laugh as Amy bursts into laughter.
Oh.
“A sombrero? Man, you’re such a tool!” Amy’s eyes light up. “Hey, what song was she dancing to?”
Mandi struggles not to laugh. “‘I’m Too Sexy,’ by Right Said Fred.”
“No fucking way.” Amy giggles. “Oh, please can we do a recreation?” she begs me. “I’d do anything to see that. Even Dad’s friend.” She wiggles her eyebrows at me.
Why did I invite her, again?
“There’s no need to pay to see it when I can get you it for free.” Mandi laughs.
