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It’s something to look forward to but I don’t want him to stress himself out.
“Dad, that sounds great. Please don’t overwork yourself. Please take your time, okay?”
“Yes. You too.”
I promise myself I won’t, although what I’m doing isn’t exactly overworking myself.
* * *
I getto the club on time. It’s raining and my usual parking space is gone. I have to park a little further out than usual.
I’m not late, I just like to have time to do my makeup and feel comfortable in myself.
The last few nights haven’t been different to the initial nights when I started here. I just want to keep up appearances as one might say.
It’s weird that I rock up every day in my normal clothes and change into these seductive lingerie. I look like I’m getting ready for a Victoria Secret’s show. No one would believe me if I told them I do this.
Last Saturday I had lunch with Chloe and the other girls.
It was nice but it’s still weird sitting together in a group. Miranda asked me how I was, in her usual manner like she’s still either asking if we can still be friends or if she’s still asking me how I’m feeling in regards to her betrayal.
I told her I was fine.
We’re good as we are and I don’t plan to be besties. I think I’m more friends with her because I pity her and part of me feels bad she lost her baby.
Another part of me can’t help but feel bitter every time I remember how she was sleeping with Chad for years behind my back.
It’s time to push it to the back of my mind though, because even though I’m not overworking myself, I need to focus.
Mimi smiles when she sees me come out of the dressing room. I’m wearing black tonight. She always puts out all the clothes I’m supposed to wear and lets me know if there’s anything I have to be aware of.
“You okay?” she asks tentatively.
“Yeah, I’m okay.”
She smiles but I sense that something’s a little off.
“A little change to tonight’s schedule,” she announces.
I panic the minute she says that. “What’s happening?”
“Nick wants you on the floor in the playboy lounge.”
The minute she says those words, a stone drops in the pit of my stomach and the blood drains from me.
“He wants me on the floor? Not with him?” I ask. Try as I may I can’t keep the quiver out of my voice.
“Yeah, but you’re going to be okay.”
“Oh,” I breathe.
We never went to the playboy lounge on my tour. Nick said I’d seen enough when we got to the dungeon.
Enough…
Is that what this is? Enough? Maybe he’s done with me.
I don’t know why, maybe it’s the crass way it’s been done, but this feels worse than finding out about Miranda and Chad. It’s what it feels like to be tossed to the side. Cast away.
