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“Yeah, fine! Let’s make it a whole show for the clients.” Giulio walks over to me, and I tense up, expecting him to grab me. But all he does is bend down to pick up the bag with the empty food containers. He shoves it in Paul’s hands. “Put that in the trash. You can handle that much, right?”
Paul nods and quickly steps aside for Giulio and Elena. I hurry to follow, not eager to get locked up again. Besides, I’m actually worried about Stef.
The music is blaring loudly enough that I can hear it even before we enter the main floor. I don’t know what time it is, but there are enough men seated around the stage that it must be well into the evening, despite it being a weeknight.
It doesn’t take us long to spot Stef, who is sobbing in one of the corner booths. A South Asian guy is sitting with her, trying to talk her down, but whatever he’s saying is having no effect.
Giulio grabs a chair from an occupied table, ignoring the protests, and drags it next to Stef so he can sit down.
“So. What happened?” Giulio asks, but he’s directing his gaze at the man.
The guy shrugs. “Dunno, boss. One minute she’s giving a guy a lap dance, the next she’s in tears. The customer started shouting that he didn’t touch her. We moved him to another part of the club, but he’s refusing to leave.”
“Hey, Stef,” I say, sliding into the booth next to her while being sure to give her some space. She doesn’t seem to want it, though; she scoots closer to me, burying her face in my shoulder.
Startled, I stroke her hair, but I focus on her instead of Giulio and the others.
“Do you want to tell us what happened?” I ask gently, my heart aching for her. It’s so obvious that she doesn’t want to be here, that this is probably the worst place for her, and to see her breaking down just reminds me of how the clock is ticking for me as well.
Her sobbing only gets louder. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to.”
Giulio makes an annoyed gesture. “You never do, Stef. The crying justhappens. And look, I get it. Life sucks. If you want to cry yourself to sleep, I don’t care. But crying in front of customers? You’re making my club look bad. You’re makingmelook bad. That’s kind of a problem.”
I cast a scathing look at Giulio. “How dare she show her emotions. What a terrible thing,” I say, emboldened by the crying woman against my side. “Did he touch you, Stef? Is that what’s wrong?”
She nods against me, sniffling and obviously trying to stop crying—only to fail miserably as she breaks down all over again.
Giulio pinches the bridge of his nose. “Touching happens, Stef. We’ve been over this. And it’s going to happen a lot more if you can’t dance without the crying, because that means I have to keep you in the private rooms, and send the guys to you who don’t care if you’re in tears.” He glances over at the guy on Stef’s other side. “Go get me a drink, Abe. I should not have to deal with this. Have Jenna make me a proper cocktail, not the shit we serve the customers.”
The guy nods and immediately leaves, happy to have another task. Happy to no longer have to deal with… this.
I open my mouth to give Giulio a piece of my mind, but I glance up and see Elena standing there, frowning at us. I wonder if she’s been in those private rooms, where men wouldn’t care about her face. Paul had made it clear he didn’t want her on the main floor…
I force myself to think instead of speaking, carefully stroking Stef’s hair. “Stef, it’s okay,” I tell her soothingly. “You can be strong. I know you can.” It almost feels like I’m talking to myself. “The happier you make the clients, the less likely they are to hurt you.” Am I talking about the clients or Giulio, Damien, and Slayer? “You can get it over with, get off the floor, and get back to your room. Just play along. Pretend it’s a game. Imagine yourself as a different person, if you have to.”
Elena nods, although Stef isn’t looking at her. “Vanessa is right, Stef. It’s…easier… if you go with the flow. Your body doesn’t define you, and it doesn’t matter how many people touch you.”
Stef grips me tighter, but her next sob is significantly quieter.
I have no idea where to go from here, though.
Abe returns with Giulio’s drink, and Giulio immediately takes a long gulp, shooing the man away again. Then he leans forward, extending the drink to Stef. “Okay. I wouldn’t normally offer a drink during work, but have a few sips. Elena is going to take you to wash off your face and redo your makeup.”
I’m just as surprised as Stef by the drink. I don’t think alcohol is a good idea, not when Stef is already in the middle of a break-down, but she takes the drink with a shaky hand.
After she’s had a few gulps, she hands the glass back to Giulio.
“I’m gonna give you a choice, Stef. You have to keep working tonight. I can’t have non-earners hogging the rooms. You either get back to what you were doing—without crying, this time—or I’ll call Slayer in and have you give him a private dance. He’s not going to care if you’re in tears. I’ll even give you a small bonus if you can handle Slayer.”
It doesn’t sound like much of a choice.
He downs the rest of the drink, then wrinkles his nose. “Man, we have got to get a better bar around here.”
Stef is quiet for a moment, then she wipes her tears away and puts a little distance between us. “The… the floor,” she mumbles. “I’ll take the floor.”
I don’t think I’d have wanted Slayer either, but the pressure of the floor… I cast her a worried look, not sure she can get through the night without breaking down again if she has to deal with multiple men feeling her up.
Elena extends her hand to Stef. “Come on, let’s go get you cleaned up. With some fresh makeup, you’ll look good as new. Ready to tackle the world. And I’ll give you a few pointers about redirecting wandering hands.”
