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My eyes start to burn as they fill with tears and I quickly blink them back before they ruin the perfect cat-eye eyeliner and false lashes Ariel applied for me in the dressing room an hour ago.
“That was the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me,” I tell her with a sniffle.
“Just think: Instead of having that giant pole up your ass, you’ll have it in the palm of your hands and be swinging on it in about forty-five seconds,” she says with a smirk.
“And then you go and completely ruin it,” I mutter with a shake of my head, taking another deep breath and turning away from her to face the curtains again.
“You’ll be fine. It’s two minutes and thirty-five seconds of your life. It will be over before you know it,” she reassures me with a pat on the back.
“I need my Clorox wipes,” I mumble nervously, bringing one hand up to my mouth and chewing nervously on my thumb nail.
She smacks my hand away and rolls her eyes.
“You do not need your Clorox wipes. That pole is clean. Ish. You know what? Don’t think about the pole and all the vaginas that have spun on it before you tonight. Think about how freeing this will be. Think about your business. Our business. Think about being independent and paying your own bills and banging the hot-as-balls owner of this club,” she says with a wag of her eyebrows.
“That’s not why I’m doing this,” I reply indignantly, even though just the thought of finally being naked in a bed with that man makes me feel all warm and tingly.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, princess. You’re totally going to bang that man like a screen door in a hurricane. Especially when he sees you in this outfit,” Ariel states, looking me up and down. “Well, the outfit you have on underneath that thing.”
I take a second to look down at myself and smile. PJ told me to never, ever wear this costume again, and I did it just to irritate him. And to spot him in the crowd and see the look on his face when I take it off. I’m not the prude he probably still thinks I am. I can change. I can be sexy and outgoing and do something completely outrageous and not in my comfort zone.
“I can do this,” I state with a nod of my head.
“Hell yeah you can!” Ariel cheers, bumping her shoulder against mine. “Just don’t trip and fall on your face in those ridiculously high heels. Biting it and smacking your face onto the stage is not hot.”
I glare at her, and she holds her hands up and begins backing away.
“You’ve got this. Shake your ass and make Momma some money!” Ariel shouts before disappearing around a corner to go out into the audience and cheer me on.
“Let’s give a great big round of applause to Tiffany! We’ve got an extra-special treat for you next. Get your dollar bills ready, folks. Straight from the castle, looking for her very own prince is the hottest princess you’ll ever meet! Put your hands together for Cinderella!”
Letting out a long, slow breath, I grab onto the velvet curtain and yank it open, pasting a smile on my face and ignoring the butterflies flapping around in my stomach as I make my way on stage.
I can do this.
I’m going to go out there and show everyone that it’s possible for a housewife to make something of herself. Even if she has to make it by being a stripper.
And I’m definitely going to show PJ that he can’t tell me what to do.
Fuck. That. Shit.
* * *
“Who the hell are you and what have you done with Cindy?” Ariel screeches as she comes flying through the door of Tiffany’s dressing room, which she let me borrow, quickly closing it behind her.
I finish tying the short, light-blue satin robe around my waist, covering up my matching light-blue lace bra and thong. I can’t believe I’m actually a little sad to be covering everything up now that I conquered the beast. I sort of want to walk around in my underwear everywhere now.
“Was it bad? It was bad, wasn’t it? I stumbled a little during the chorus and I forgot to make eye contact a few times and OH MY GOD I JUST STRIPPED OUT ON A STAGE IN FRONT OF PEOPLE!” I cry, slapping my hand over my mouth and staring at Ariel with wide eyes.
“Dude. DUDE. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. Like, seriously. Who the fuck are you? You owned that damn stage. Yeah, I saw you stumble a little, but that’s because I was looking at your legs and feet, making sure you didn’t look like Bambi first learning how to walk in those stripper heels. Everyone else in that room was staring at your tits and probably didn’t even notice. Holy shit. You just took your clothes off for money and looked like a fucking pro,” she whispers, the shocked look on her face immediately morphing into a huge smile.
