Page 3 of Good Girls Beg

Pop pressed a hand to his chest. "Sweetheart, everyone needs drag queens."

"Exactly," I agreed. "That's why we need to do everything we can to keep this place open. Saltgrave Cove wouldn't be the same without it. People come all the way down here for drag queen night."

That might be a slight exaggeration, but it was popular, and my fathers loved it. They were the center of attention on nights like that, with their pink wigs, huge dresses, and bright makeup. Not to mention all the feathers. Fake, of course. Birds didn't come in the colors they preferred.

"We could have drag queen night every night and it might not be enough to pay the bills," Dad said softly, as if saying the words louder might make them even truer.

"We'll think of something," I assured him. "Whatever it takes, we'll keep this place open. I promise."

"What have I said about making promises?" Dad asked, looking at me through his bushy eyebrows. Yes, he kept them that way, even in drag. It was kind of his thing. I mean, his drag name was Caterpillar Hart.

"Don't make promises unless you're sure you can keep them," I recited. "Which is why I'm making you this promise: we will save this place, whatever it takes. We can start with a crowdfunding campaign. I know a bunch of people who will be happy to contribute."

They both wanted to decline, I saw it on their faces. They hated the idea of taking anyone's charity. The fact they didn't refuse spoke volumes about how bad the situation really was. They must be right on the edge. That sent a skitter of anxiety through me. What if everything I tried wasn't enough?

I shoved the thought away. It had to be enough. What's the saying? 'Failure is not an option.'

"When we get through this, we can have a special open bar night to thank everyone," I said.

The suggestion placated them. They both relaxed their shoulders slightly. As long as they could give back in some way, that would make it easier to accept help. They were proud, but they knew when they didn't have a choice.

"That sounds perfect," Pop said. The eager smile on his face suggested he'd mentally skipped right to that part, already making plans for a big event, their problems long behind them, as if they'd never existed. Rough patch? What rough patch?

I hoped like hell I'd be able to deliver. If I couldn't, the only thing they'd be looking forward to would be disappointment and bankruptcy. I couldn't let that happen to them after all they'd done for me. I owed them this and a whole lot more on top of it.

"I'll go and set things up." I placed my hands on the table and pushed myself to my feet. My shoes squelched. The fabric was cold where it stuck to my skin.

I thought briefly of the expensive car which covered me with a wall of water. Not just because they should have slowed down for the conditions. No, my mind went to the driver. People like that were the people I needed help from. People with money, deep pockets. The kind of people who spent their holidays here every summer. Who bought the biggest houses on the beachfront and held extravagant parties.

I suppressed a sigh. People like that didn’t help people like us. They were too busy helping themselves and raising rent for people like us. As long as they were comfortable, they wouldn't lose a wink of sleep at night.

"You're the best, Teds," Pop said standing to get back to work.

"Of course I am. You raised me." I smiled. "I'll see you both later."

I kissed my fathers on the cheek, grabbed up my umbrella, and headed back out into the steady downpour, humming “Singin' in the Rain” while I made my way back to my car.

CHAPTER TWO

TEDDIE

"How's it going?" Lyra peered over my shoulder at the crowdfunding website.

"Slowly," I admitted. I reached over to pick up my tea, only to find the cup empty.

She chuckled and took it from my hand. "I'll make us another one."

"I should be doing that to thank you for letting me crash on your couch," I said.

I'd moved out of my fathers’ house a few years ago, but the apartment I’d been renting was recently sold. Trying to find something I could afford close to work and college was proving difficult. The temporary situation was lasting longer than either of us expected, but she hadn't kicked me out on my ass. Yet.

"I don't mind," she said. "I'd say don't stress, but we both know it's too late for that." She cocked her head at me and gave a sympathetic smile.

"I'm sorry. All of this has been a lot." I sighed at the screen before glancing up at my friend.

"I know. I bet you haven't been to bed before two a.m. for the last week. Between raising money for Loams and working on your thesis, you look tapped out. You know rest is a thing, right?" She placed her hand on her hip and popped it out, her eyebrows raised.

"I'll rest when I'm dead?" I suggested.