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Chapter13
Sassy
I’m dancing on stage at The Nest when I spot Chase Hamilton in the crowd. I give him a wink but don’t hold eye contact. With stripping, the trick is to make every man feel like he’s the only person in the room. When they feel special, they tip more. I can’t focus on just one person, even if it’s a friend.
Obviously, I broke that rule when Colt was here. That night, my eyes were drawn to him like magnets. But that was a slip that won’t happen again or my manager will accuse me of playing favourites.
I’m glad to see Chase here tonight. He used to come and watch me a fair bit when we were sleeping together, but I haven’t seen him since I cut that off. I hope this means we can be friends. He’s here on his own, which means he’ll wait until my shift ends and then offer to walk me home.
We reach the part of the performance where we ditch our glittery bras. The crowd cheers as we drop the scrap of material to the ground. I glance at Chase again, who gives me an appreciative smile. I don’t have a problem stripping in front of people. Even friends. My boobs are great. Why not earn money from them? I’d never consider doing lap dances, because I feel like I’d lose some of the control in that situation. But being on stage, where they can watch but not touch, works perfectly for me.
My only problem with stripping is the hours. It means I can never go out on Friday and Saturday nights like a regular college kid. The newsagent hours are kinda perfect and lately, I’ve been wondering if I should ask for a proper job there once I’ve paid my debt off.
I walk over to the pole and dance against it. I love the pole. It’s a great workout, and it’s fun. If I quit stripping, I might install a pole in my room for the exercise benefits.
The song finishes and I walk off the stage, ready to get changed into my next outfit.
A couple of hours later, I’ve finished my shift and I change back into my street clothes. The backdoor that the dancers use leads straight into the carpark and while it’s normally safe, we’ll get the occasional drunk asshole loitering around. The one who thinks they own us because they’ve spent all night throwing money at us. Lucky for us, if they’re drunk enough, they don’t seem to notice us in our casual clothes with no wigs or makeup on.
I say bye to the girls and leave. As soon as the door swings shut behind me, I hear my name being called. I peer into the dark parking lot and see Chase jogging towards me.
“Oh shit! I used your real name. Sorry.” Chase slaps his hand over his mouth and I can tell he’s drunk by the exaggerated movement.
“It’s fine. I’ve told you before that I use the name Sassy at the club, anyway.”
“I thought you weren’t supposed to use your name here?” He’s definitely drunk, because I’ve explained all this to him before.
“My real name is Saskia, remember? Sassy is already a nickname, and nicknames are fine to use at the club.” I explain patiently, shifting my tote bag higher onto my shoulder. It’s heavy tonight, because I’m bringing home three sets of shoes for cleaning.
“Here, let me take that.” Chase puts his hand out and I hesitate. I don’t need him carrying my things for me. I hate the strong man doing stuff for the weak girl act. But we are just friends, and it’s heavy, so I hand it over.
“Jesus, it’s bulky. What’s in here?”
“My shoes. Including the thigh-high boots.”
“Oh fuck,” Chase growls. “Those boots are sexy as hell.”
“Thanks,” I laugh, and we walk toward campus. It’s about a twenty-minute walk door-to-door for me, which I enjoy doing after a shift, rather than catching an Uber.
“Maybe you could put them on next time we fool around.” He suggests, then stumbles slightly on a bit of uneven footpath.
“Hmmmm, except we aren’t fooling around anymore, remember?”
“Yeah. Sure.”
I’m about to tell him I’m serious when my phone lights up with a message. It’s from Violet–or Vixen, as she’s known at the club–to say the girls have gone out after their shift tonight if I want to join them.
“Are you going out tonight?” Chase asks, looking over at my screen.
“Nah, I don’t think so.”
“Me neither.” He looks over at me, a twinkle in his eye. “Wouldn’t mind staying in, actually.”
It sounds like he’s trying to be suggestive, but surely he hasn’t forgotten that I ended our little arrangement the last time we were together.
“I haven’t seen you in ages,” I change the subject. “What have you been up to?”
Chase shrugs and I glance at him from the corner of my eye. I try not to laugh at the sight of the big, tattooed Chase Hamilton ambling along with my tote bag over his shoulder.
