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“Dallas?” His eyebrows furrow as if he’s pondering a serious question before his eyes widen in recognition. “Holy fuck, Dallas?”
God damn. Mother fucker. Shit balls. This is so not fucking good.
I rush over to him as quick as my heels allow, yelling to the DJ to take me out of rotation for a while. He’s going to be pissed, but at this point I couldn’t give two shits. There’s something that needs to be hashed out and done right fucking now.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he mutters as I walk him to the back door that’s used for the dancers and the rest of the staff.
“You’re fucking right ‘you’ve got to be kidding me’. What the fuck, Robbie? Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Oh, ‘cause I knew? Shit, Dallas. Does Jack know?” Of course he would bring up my cousin at a time like this. I think there are more pertinent things to discuss, like how I just fucked my cousin’s best friend, for money no less. “I knew you looked familiar. Mother fucker,” he mutters under his breath.
“No, he doesn’t and you’re not gonna say shit. But really, me say something? What about you? Am I being punked?” I start looking around for hidden cameras because this kind of shit is something you would see on TV during a candid camera show.
“Dallas, I’m so sorry. If I knew, I wouldn’t have. You know that, right? I don’t go around paying for sex, I swear. The guys put me up for this since it’s my birthday. They said they would pay for a dance, I didn’t know we were gonna have sex.” Does he realize how condescending he sounds?
“Dude, I don’t give a fuck what you do or don’t do. The fact of the matter is, I do. I get paid to fuck.” His mouth forms an O shape as he realizes what he said a few seconds ago.
“I didn’t mean anything by that, I’m just… I don’t know … This is so bad. Jack is gonna kill me.”
“He won’t kill you because you are never going to say anything. What’s done is done. No need to bring it up again. Just don’t come back here again, understand?”
“Yeah, Dallas, I got you.”
“And don’t call me Dallas while you’re here. The name’s Sapphire. I use a stage name to protect myself. How many girls in this little po-dunk county do you know named Dallas?” Robbie purses his lips, trying to think of how many he can think of. When he realizes, he nods his head. “Exactly, so go back to your friends and get out of here. This never gets brought up again.”
Instead of walking back inside, he walks around the building toward the front. I’m sure his friends are looking for him, so I go through the back door. Sure enough, five more frat boys are standing around the stage in a small circle, undoubtedly waiting for their friend.
“He’s waiting out front.” I don’t wait for a response before heading to the dressing room. As soon as I step over the threshold, my knees buckle and I have to balance myself on the counter. A few of the girls are staring at me, but they probably just assume I had a bad bump or something. I don’t care enough to dignify them with an explanation.
Working the rest of the night isn’t going to be in the cards for me so I pack up my bag, throw on my jeans and a hoodie and leave through the back without telling the owner or DJ that I won’t be back tonight. Fuck, as shaken as I am right now, I can’t say that I’ll be back at all.
