Page 45 of Beautifully Broken


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“I disagree. I still have the right to be concerned if I think they’re putting themselves at risk.”

“Thanks for your concern but I’ll be fine, Mr. Cooper.”

“What are you hiding?”

“I’m not hiding anything,” I lie. “I just don’t think it’s any of your business.”

He chews on that for a moment. “Why aren’t you eating?”

“I usually get lunch from the cafeteria. Since I’m in here, I can’t do that.”

“I didn’t say you couldn’t eat.”

“How was I supposed to know? I’ve never had detention before.”

His eyebrows lift. “Never?”

“Never,” I repeat. “Why is that so hard to believe?”

“Oh, I don’t know…maybe because you’re one of the most obstinate people I’ve ever met? You also curse like a sailor. I’m sure that’s ticked off a teacher every now and again.”

I smile. “Maybe you bring out my bad side. Ask around; you’ll find that I’m an exemplary student.”

Gavin chuckles as he rustles through his lunch sack. He places a sandwich on the desk in front of me. “Here, eat this.”

“I’m not going to take your lunch.”

“It’s my fault you don’t have a lunch. I can get something later.”

My initial instinct is to argue but then I consider that this will likely be the only chance I get to eat for the rest of the day. I unwrap the sandwich and take a bite.

“Mmm, you make the best sandwiches. I should change your name to the Sandwich Man.”

He takes a bite of an apple. “Nah, I think we should stick with Sparkles.”

MY NEW JOB HAS BEEN MUCH DIFFERENT than expected. On my first day, I met with the house mother, Shawn, who was a dancer in her youth. Now she’s in charge of training, wardrobe, and making sure everything runs smoothly. She’s actually very sweet and seems to have a genuine concern for the girls.

The Pitiful Princess apparently has a reputation to uphold, so I’m not allowed to start working the floor until Shawn has decided I’m ready. I’ve met with her every day after school learning classic pole and lap dance moves. Other girls come in on occasion to lend their expertise as well. Over the past three weeks, I haven’t had to remove any clothing in front of an audience. Hell, I haven’t even been out in the public spaces yet. I mostly train before opening or in an empty VIP room. Let’s face it—the real money is in the tips and commissions so it’d be in my best interest to get out there as soon as possible. Like I said before, I’m a quick study, but this shit isn’t as easy as it looks.

I could barely walk after my first week. I had sore muscles in places that I didn’t even know had muscles. My entire body has been conditioned to the point of exhaustion. I do have to admit that I’m pleased with the results though. I’ve been blessed with curves on a naturally thin frame but I never really had any muscle definition before. Now, my thighs are tighter, my arms more sculpted, and my previously weak core feels stronger. My posture is even better. I guess the term dancer’s body isn’t exclusive to a discipline that requires clothing. I can only imagine what I’ll look like with continued practice.

“Verra’ good, lass.” Did I mention Shawn is from Scotland?

I just successfully executed an inverted twist called the Russian Lay Back. I’ve been working on the damn move for two days. I hop on the balls of my feet in excitement. “I finally did it!”

Trina, one of my fellow dancers, holds up her hand for a high five. “Nice job, girl! I think you’re ready to get out there!”

“Do you think so?” I ask Shawn.

“Aye,” she says. “I think you’re ready to start making some money. How do you feel about that?”

How do I feel about that? I can’t say I’m excited to bare all to the general public, but I’m definitely excited about having a roof over my head and food in the fridge. Now that I’ve had some practice, I certainly feel more confident.

“I’d like to try.”

“Great,” she replies. “I’ll tell Brandon you’re ready to show him what you’ve got. If he signs off on it, maybe we can get you on stage tomorrow night. The lads are going to love you; I’m sure of it.”

I get home later that evening and find Cybil waiting for me. She’s wearing a low-cut black cocktail dress with her hair swept into a twist. Very fancy, especially for a Thursday night.

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