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ChapterThree
LACY
“You can’t go into work like this,” I exclaimed, staring at Mandy’s red nose, watery eyes, and dry lips. “You’ve got a fever of 101 degrees on top of that.”
“I have to go, Lace, there’s a huge client coming in and Ginger wants us all there tonight. He’s kind of picky.” Mandy’s voice was still a harsh croak that made my nerves jangle.
Not from irritation, but from concern. She was really sick.
“I just need some of that chicken soup you make me when I’m sick and that will make me all better. I can’t lose this job, I worked too hard to get where I am at the club. Top dancer isn’t easy to get, you know?” Mandy moaned the last part, the water in her eyes now tears, not the result of the cold she had.
“I know, Mandy.” I sighed, staring at the pole she’d installed in our living room.
We often practiced on it together, her for work, me for exercise. It kept me fit, even if I’d never get up on a stage and take my clothes off. I just couldn’t imagine doing that. The mere thought of it made me pull my work t-shirt around so it would go baggy at the front to hide my more than ample and all-natural breasts.
We lived in the top-floor apartment her parents left her when they died in a plane crash. We were both orphans now, my parents died a less noble death when they discovered street drugs and left me alone at the age of eighteen, but Mandy had taken me under her wing when we were thirteen, and the two not-so-popular girls at our junior high. We’d been BFFs since then, and when I lost my parents first, well, she’d picked up the pieces and got me through it.
The apartment wasn’t the most expensive place in Chicago, and our view was of another building, but it suited our needs. She made a lot more money as a stripper than I could dream of, but she was saving up for the time when she wouldn’t be young enough to dance anymore, for the time that always came for dancers and entertainers in the adult industry. That moment when she became too old for the men to look at anymore.
She was smart, my best friend and she never judged me, even though I made a pittance compared to her. She never tried to push me into joining her at the club either, but she knew how shy I was and that I’d only ever had one boyfriend. That experience had ended badly after I finally gave in and had sex with him. My first time had been my only time. It wasn’t worth writing about, to anyone, and he’d ghosted me after.
It was heartbreaking for me, but it taught me a lesson, stay away from men.
“Mandy, I don’t think my chicken soup is going to cure this,” I said as I pulled out the recipe book my mom had used when I was a kid. It was old when she got it, but it was a good one, so I’d kept it.
The pages were stained from use, and I could tell exactly which recipes had been her favorites by how stained the page was. The chicken soup recipe was one of the most stained, but I’d added a few of my own since I’d got it. Mandy loved it, even though it was simple to make. I checked to make sure we had the ingredients and started the process.
She was asleep by the time I walked away to let the soup cook. I’d brought her home Nyquil and she’d taken two of the pills. With a soft touch, I felt her forehead and noted she was still warm, but not as hot as she had been.
“Do you think it will be done in time for me to get to work?” Mandy asked, surprising me.
“I thought you were asleep,” I gasped and stepped away to sit on the old blue recliner to the left of the matching couch, nearest to her head.
“No, just resting my eyes. It smells good,” she said, her voice still painful sounding.
I got up to make her a cup of hot tea with honey. That would help her throat, at least. “I don’t know if it will be ready or not, Mandy.”
“I have to go, or I have to get someone to cover for me. Everyone that I’d call will already be there tonight. It’s me or nobody.”
“You can’t go in like that, Mandy, you can barely talk,” I replied, pouring honey into a mug, an idea bubbling to life as I looked over at the pole.
That man tonight, Mr. TikTok as I’d dubbed him, could I dance for someone like him? Could I seduce him with my not so expert but not rudimentary skills?
I’d been afraid to put myself out there since Wayne ghosted me. Fucking Wayne. I can’t believe I gave my virginity to a loser named Wayne, I thought, for the millionth time. I’d lived in the shadows, afraid to take a chance, not ready to go through the heartache again. We’d dated for months, and I’d thought he’d been the one. I hadn’t been saving myself for marriage, it wasn’t that I just wanted to be sure.
I poured the boiling water over the teabag and then added milk as I let memories of Mr. TikTok run through my mind. What kind of lover would he be? Gentle? Demanding? The kind that could turn me to jelly. The kind that was in control and oh so capable of making me shiver? The kind of men Mandy had taken as lovers? That kind?
Hm.
“Mandy?” I called as I took the tea over to her and set it on the cheap pine coffee table in front of the couch, on a coaster, of course.
“Yes, babe?” she answered, sitting up when the scent of the tea hit her not-so-stopped up nose. She took a sip and I saw the relief wash over her face with happiness.
“What if I took your place?” I said confidently, but gasped when she sputtered into her tea.
“What the fuck did you say, Lacy?” She stared at me in total confusion. “Did you really just say that?”
“Yes.” A tone of defensiveness in my voice, a little stung by her reaction. “I’m not saying I’m as good as you, but I think I could cover for you one night.”
