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“Shut up.”
Colt sniggers, and I tidy up the display shelf behind the counter. After a moment, he speaks again.
“I thought stripping would pay heaps.”
“It pays okay,” I shrug. “A lot less for us group dancers, though. It’s when you get a solo act you hit the real money. That’s why we’re always trying to stand out in our group performance.”
“But it must pay enough to not need to steal cheap stationery on the reg, right?”
“Yeah. Well.” I sigh and put down the box of pens I’d been opening. “I’m kinda paying off a debt with my stripping money, so I don’t have any spare for everyday expenses.”
Colt bursts out laughing at this. “You’re kidding me, aren’t you?”
“What?” I ask, confused.
“So you’re working here to pay off a debt, because you stole some shit that you can’t afford, because the money from your actual job goes towards paying another debt.”
“That’s about the gist of it.” I answer.
“What’s your other debt? Not much stuff you can steal from a strip club.”
“That debt is unrelated to the job. I just needed something that paid well because my other debt is huge.”
“What’s it from then?”
“A car wreck from a couple of years ago.”
“A couple of years ago and you’re still paying it off? Must have been some car wreck. You didn’t have insurance?”
“No. Car not insured, nor registered. In fact, it wasn’t even my car, if you know what I mean.”
Colt lets out a slow whistle. “You’re a bad girl, Sassy.”
“Yep, good boys like you shouldn’t be spending time with girls like me.” I say it lightly, but I’m serious underneath.
“Who says I’m a good boy?” Something flashes across Colt’s face that makes my insides clench. Is it possible he has a dark side to him too?
“I can just tell.” I don’t elaborate that I’ve had my fair share of bad boys and Colt isn’t anything like them.
“Anyway, why aren’t they giving you a solo at the club? You have more talent in your little finger than all those girls combined.”
I watch him for a beat. The compliments slide off his tongue so easily. Something about the way we are chatting so effortlessly unnerves me. I don’t get along with other humans. Once, someone gifted me a t-shirt that says ‘does not play well with others’, and it’s the most appropriate present I’ve ever received. It’s time to stop the conversation in its tracks.
“You’ve no idea just how talented I can be.” I say in a husky voice, looking at him from under my eyelashes. He swallows, my words having their desired effect. Turning, I walk to the back of the shop to clean up.
While working, Colt and I have an unspoken agreement that he serves the customers while I do other jobs around the store. It’s best for everyone concerned I don’t have a client facing role, and Colt is naturally good at being polite. Instead, I put my air pods in and work on my own, listening to music. If a customer makes the mistake of asking me a question, I sigh loudly before taking my ear buds out, letting them know they’ve interrupted me. Sometimes I just pretend I can’t hear them at all. In contrast, Colt is nice to everyone. Even the dithering old ladies who count out their coins painstakingly slowly. I don’t know how he does it.
I look at the time and see my shift ends in four minutes. Perfect because I’ve just finished the box I was unpacking. It doesn’t matter that I was fifteen minutes late to start my shift, I’m working on a near enough is good enough approach to this job.
I walk to the front counter where Colt is busy with more paperwork.
“That’s the last of it.” I throw the empty box through the door of the storage room. It lands inside with a clatter.
“There’s a place for that.”
“Someone else’s problem now. My shift is over.” I fold my arms across my chest.
Colt raises an eyebrow at me, his eyes dancing with amusement.
