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Jerking out of Cindy’s hold, I start pacing back and forth in the middle of the room.
“Did you know a hundred percent of women are blah, blah, fucking blah, who gives a shit?!” I yell.
“Oh, Jesus. I think she’s broken. Cindy, I think we broke her,” Ariel mutters.
I ignore her and continue to wear a hole in the floor.
“I’m not an inexperienced little virgin who needs to be handled with kid gloves,” I continue ranting. “I almost had a threesome. Some mama’s boy tried to get his mother to help him get laid. I’ve learned about the beauty of multiple orgasms. And bloody hell that dodgy arsehole out in the audience can bugger off, and I shall not let him near my fanny again for a fortnight!”
“What in the hell are you doing?!” Ariel inquires, looking at me like I’ve lost my mind when I suddenly start speaking British.
“I don’t know! I’ve never been a hot nerd before!” I shout in frustration, pushing my black rimmed glasses back up in place. “I’m getting into character. I figured it would be sexier if I spoke in a British accent.”
“You’re just stringing together a bunch of British shit no one will understand. Stop it. You don’t need to get into any kind of character. You’re a hot, sexy bitch who almost had a threesome, almost got bred by a mama’s boy, and has had multiple orgasms. You can do this. You are going to march your sexy ass out onto that stage and show that annoying man you aren’t sweet and innocent, and fuck what he says!”
Ariel holds her palm up to me for a high five, and I smack it with exuberance.
“See? You are a motivational speaker,” Cindy says, giving Ariel a pat on the back.
“Just don’t fuck it up and fall flat on your face or you won’t get any tips. Especially the tip of his dick,” Ariel adds.
“And then you have to go and ruin it,” Cindy mutters, turning away from Ariel to give me an encouraging smile. “You’re going to be fine. Just forget about the notecards and the studying and the mechanics of it all and think about the orgasms. Think about how sexy and powerful you felt. Think about that awesome lap dance you gave PJ earlier, when you were determined and pissed off. Channel that sexiness and power and lose yourself in the music. I need you, Belle. I can’t keep doing all of these parties by myself. You’re my only hope.”
“Alright there, Obi Wan Stripping Kenobi, let’s get out of here and let her do her thing,” Ariel says, grabbing Cindy’s arm and pulling her towards the door, shouting over her shoulder before they disappear from sight. “Just think, maybe after you’re finished stripping, that hot piece of brooding man meat will come back here and finally screw you silly up against the wall, like PJ did to Cindy!”
PJ did, in fact, get so turned on when she first stripped on this stage that they had sex for the first time in this room when she was done. It was all so hot and romantic the way she described it that it makes my heart flutter. Too bad that’s definitely not in the cards for me, since I can’t seem to get Vincent to take things any further between us. I’m finished wishing for a fairy tale like all the ones I’ve read about in my favorite books, and the one that happened to Cindy. At this point, I need to just accept the fact that it’s never going to happen for me and stop living between the pages.
Sure, my life has been a complete mess the last few months, but it’s also been somewhat exciting. And real. That’s the best part. I’m finally experiencing real life instead of just reading about it. I’m a strong, independent, take-charge woman, and I need to remember that’s all that matters. And maybe if I can get through this dance and quickly start booking parties, the board will have no choice but to change their minds when I tell them I can start making my own donations to keep the library open.
“We’ve got an extra special treat for you next. Get your dollar bills ready, folks. Straight from the castle library, looking for her very own Beast to tame her, is the hottest princess you’ll ever meet! Put your hands together for Belle!”
As soon as I hear the muffled voice of the announcer out in the main part of the club, I grab the vintage, hardback copy of Beauty and the Beast that I brought with me to use as a prop and quickly make my way out of the dressing room and up the stairs to the stage.
I pause behind the black velvet curtain, opening the book and holding it in one hand in front of my face, grabbing onto curtain with my free hand and taking a deep, calming breath as nervous excitement courses through me.
