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Chapter Nine
Corentina
It’s been a few days since the night I had with Rémy in the burlesque room, and I can’t stop thinking about it. Every time I close my eyes, I think about the way he stared down at me while I was deep throating his cock. The sex we had was amazing, and I can’t deny the connection we have. It’s there and it’s blatantly obvious. Now, I’ve never done this with one of my bosses before. I know it’s wrong, but I couldn’t care less. For so long, I’ve lived life by the rules, and this is my first time doing things my way.
Every night I’ve worked, I’ve seen Poppy, and we ended up exchanging phone numbers yesterday. She’s a real sweetheart, and I mean, she really is. You meet a lot of people in this industry, and many of them hide under the guise of being nice. Not Poppy, though. She’s as sweet as can be. So sweet we made plans to go shopping today. I drove the car I’m currently leasing down to Diamond Dancers and I’m waiting for Poppy to meet me here. Sure enough, she parks her car next to mine and hops in on the passenger side.
“Heya! How’re you?” she asks with a big smile while she buckles up her seatbelt.
“Good, super tired, but I grabbed us coffee.” I motion down to the two iced coffees in the cupholder.
“Oooo, you’re my favorite! Have I ever told you that? Which one is mine?” Poppy’s eyes widen like a kid on Christmas day.
“Either. I got one vanilla and one caramel. I wasn’t sure what you liked.” I shrug, and Poppy looks at the ‘c’ and the ‘v’ on the appropriate cups. She grabs the caramel one, and I take the vanilla one. Thank goodness, I really haven’t been in the mood for anything caramel. As she sips on her iced coffee, I pick up mine and the creamy liquid jolts me awake.
“Caramel is my favorite, so thank you. It’s much appreciated,” Poppy tells me, and I reverse out of our parking spot, put the car in drive, and head down the street. For the next few minutes, we make some small chat, and within fifteen minutes of city traffic, we’re at the street of shops and boutiques Poppy said would be the best. As a burlesque dancer, you have to be smart when shopping. We go to the high-end stores and the thrift shops because the old saying “one man’s junk is another man’s treasure” isn’t wrong.
Every time I have a couple hours off, I like to go explore the cities I’m in. Now that Ursula isn’t breathing down my neck and arranging side gigs for me, I actually get to enjoy my off time. Poppy and I go down a small street. Instead of pavement, it’s made of cobblestone, and on top of the boutiques are apartments with Mardi Gras beads hanging off the iron railing. People are so happy here in New Orleans. They smile at anyone they come into contact with and they’re the kindest people I’ve ever met. I wish other people would take notes. This is how humanity is supposed to treat one another.
Poppy and I head inside a boutique with pastel pink lettering. It matches her hair in a way. Once we’re inside, I get a bohemian type of feel. There are long flowy skirts, dresses, and floral patterns are on almost every style of clothing.
Poppy heads up to a mint green curtain and waves me over with her hand. “C’mon, Cora, you’re going to love it in here.” Poppy wiggles her eyebrows, and I follow closely behind her. We both walk into the other room, and it’s filled with lingerie. Lace bras, bustiers, corsets, and that’s only the tip of the iceberg.
“I think I see a couple things in here from your routine the other night,” I tell her, and Poppy’s walking over to a bright yellow rack labeled “Clearance”.
She giggles and nods. “Heck yeah, you did. I got the whole outfit for under twenty bucks. It was a major score.”
I begin to scan through the items, and my eyes land on a sexy black lace number. It’s a one-piece, with floral patterns and cutouts. I wouldn’t be able to use it in burlesque, but I could use it for something else. Licking my bottom lip, I debate purchasing it.
“Bet you plan on letting Rémy see you in that.” Poppy’s words catch me off guard a bit, and I glance over at her. I should deny it, but I don’t want to. All I want to do is let this experience here in New Orleans be authentic. For so many years I’ve been coached in how to act, what to say, how to keep busy, all of it. Poppy tilts her head to the side and grabs onto my arm, giving me a playful shove. “Don’t you remember? I said I’m not into him, you silly goose. He’s not my type. Not at all.” Poppy proceeds to dig through the clothing on the clearance rack, and I inhale sharply through my nose.
“I’m thinking about it,” I answer her question, and she giggles.
“Good for you. I bet you’d look super sexy in it, but you’re the type of woman who looks sexy in everything, I bet.”
Poppy’s comment causes me to bust out into a fit of laughter. “I’m glad you think so. A lot of times I look in the mirror and only see flaws.” The reason I see the flaws is because of Ursula. She pointed them out at the first opportunity. One day she threw open the door to the apartment we were sharing at the time and saw me in one of my new costumes. It was a little too tight around one portion, but I hadn’t gotten the item to a seamstress yet. She called me fat and said I was gaining weight. It really fucked with my head. I have curves, but I’m not fat. For fuck’s sake, I’m five foot three and a hundred-and-fifty pounds. That being said, I’m lucky enough to have my weight proportionality dispositioned.
Poppy frows. “That’s really sad. When I look at you, all I see is beauty and how lovely you are. You know, I don’t think I said this, but I was worried about your arrival. I was afraid you’d get here, and then you, the great Corentina, would treat the rest of us like little fishes.”
My eyebrows naturally furrow and I shake my head. “Of course not. It isn’t hard to be kind.”
Poppy smiles. “Yeah, I agree, and I’m glad you’re so nice. It’s a breath of fresh air. We’ve had a couple of ladies who’ve been real monsters. Like Missy, goodness gracious, she was so mean to Madelaine. Called her a bunch of nasty names. But she got kicked to the curb, and then Félix and Madelaine brought me out from behind the bar to start training in burlesque. I’m glad they did it. I have so much fun doing the shows.”
I find a deep velvet red-colored bustier in my size and grab it. There’s a matching cutout thong hooked to it, and I know I have a pair of shoes at home that’ll match perfectly. “Have you seen Rémy around lately?” I haven’t seen too much of him, but we could just be crossing each other at different times.
Poppy giggles. “Yeah. He’s there every time you have a show, sitting in the section reserved for the DeLancys.” I blink a couple times, realizing the reason I haven’t seen him in the crowd when I’ve been performing is that he’s not in the same spot. “He’s been there every night you’re on, Cora. I think he fancies you.”
“He fancies me? What are you, in the 1950s?” I tease Poppy, and she laughs lightly.
“Sometimes I wish we were, at least my fashion sense would be the same.” Poppy lifts at her skirt, and we both share a smile. She’s a much-needed breath of fresh air, and without my sister looming over my shoulder, watching every move I make, I think I’m actually living.
Poppy and I continue shopping for the next couple hours. We get some great deals, and then spend a bit too much at certain high-end boutiques. I get a text from Rémy just as Poppy and I are walking back to my car.
From: Rémy
Want to have dinner tonight?
To: Rémy
Sure. When and where?
From: Rémy
Seven. I’ll text you the address in a bit.
To: Rémy
Okay. See you then.
Butterflies soar through my stomach, and I’m elated to see him again. My core heats up, and I can’t imagine what other positions he’ll throw me into tonight. I hope there are many, and he’s as demanding and dominating as he was the last time we were together.
