JODIE
The attention of what feels like a million eyes on me makes my skin tingle as if I’ve got ants crawling all over me.
In all my years imagining what this life might be, never did I think I’d feel like I do now.
I thought it would be empowering, freeing, enlightening even.
But right now, with the eyes of a bunch of old, sleazy men on me, I just feel dirty, cheap, like a complete sell-out.
Okay, so I always thought I’d be up on a fancy stage, shaking my booty in some glamorous outfit which would make me feel like a million dollars, but the reality of my current situation is very, very different.
Courtney has put me in a pair of gold knickers—she called them shorts—which show off way too much of my arse considering I’m weaving in and out of these leering men with a tray of drinks constantly in my hand, stopping me from being able to defend myself should one decide to get a little handsy. She teamed them with a bra top that at least has some padding and tassels hanging from the bottom, helping to cover me a little, and a matching pair of sky-high heels.
When I was standing in the dressing room with the other girls, I felt good. Sexy even. But the second I stepped out here, all that flew out of the window.
Add the fact that I’m the new girl to that, and I’m receiving way more attention than I’d have liked on my first night.
Some of the other girls are up on stage, dancing around the poles and looking incredible. It’s where I’d prefer to be, but according to Courtney, being up there is a privilege I’ve got to earn. I need to prove that I can handle myself out on the main floor first. She might have explained them as the rules everyone abides by when they first start, but I couldn’t help but see it as some fucked-up initiation ritual to filter the strong from the weak.
I hate it. All of it.
I keep my mind on the wages, and the tips I’ve currently got stuffed in my bra, but now that I’ve spoken to Mum and know our financial situation is okay, even the thought of how much I could make here is taking the shine out of it.
I don’t belong in a place like this.
I should be at uni having the time of my life. I should be focusing on a career, a life, a future.
“Where did the boss find you from, pretty girl?” a guy wearing a greasy set of overalls sneers as I place a round of beers down on the table for him and his friends. “You look like you need some breaking in.”
I bite my tongue to stop me from shooting back an insult that would probably get me fired within the first two hours of my shift here.
Although, really… do I care?
“Enjoy your evening, gentlemen.”
“Oh, she’s polite too. I wonder what it takes to dirty that mouth up.”
My teeth grind so hard as I walk away from the arseholes that I’m surprised I don’t crack one.
“Ignore Frank, he’s all mouth,” Courtney says when I get back to the bar with an empty tray.
“He’s all dickhead,” I mutter under my breath, still trying to ignore the tingling of my skin.
“Here you go, table six.” She jerks her chin in the direction I should be heading and slides a tray toward me. A quick look over my shoulder tells me they’re for a younger group of guys who don’t seem quite as bad as the rest of the crowd tonight.
Sucking in a deep breath, and pulling up my big girl knickers, I reach for the tray and head over.
All six pairs of eyes eat up my progress, but their attention doesn’t make my stomach turn over like the previous tables I’ve visited.
And it’s not until I’m passing out the fourth beer that I get an inkling as to why.
“Thanks, doll,” the guy drawls, reaching out for the glass and exposing his inked-up forearm. The sight of a very familiar wolf tattoo makes something inside me relax.
They might not know who I am, but they’re Jesse’s friends. Or maybe they do know who I am and he sent them to keep an eye on me.
“I thought you guys usually hung out in your Den?” I ask bravely.
“Sometimes we fancy a change of scenery, and tonight was one of those nights, doll.”