She shoots daggers at me.
“If you’d known, you’d probably just do it again,” she bites out. Then, she stares at the money. “Besides, what do you expect me to do with this? Use it in the vending machine? That thing doesn’t even take bills anymore, and besides, my lunch break is almost over. It’s not like I can run to the deli to stock up. So yeah, I guess I’m just going hungry today, thanks to you.”
I pause, my expression stricken.
“I’m trying to help, that’s all,” I manage. “Again, I’m really sorry.”
She snorts.
“Some help you’ve been. You know what? You’re just a brute with no manners. Take your twenty and stuff it,” she spits, wheeling on one heel with her shoulders square. “Fuck you, pretty boy.”
But I can’t let her go, not when I know that she has nothing to eat for the entire day. In desperation, I reach for my half-finished Gatorade.
“Here, take this,” I say quickly. “It’s better than nothing.”
Jessie turns to me with disdain. “Really, you’re offering me a half-consumed bottle of blue Gatorade? You think that makes up for what you did?”
I shake my head.
“No, but it’s all I’ve got for right now,” is my stiff reply. “Trust me, I’ll figure out a way to get you food, okay? Just give me some time. I need to be on stage shortly, but I’ll make it up to you.”
She just shrugs and turns away again.
“Whatever. I’d rather you just leave me alone. Don’t bother making it up.”
With that, she spins on her heel and strides from the room without another word, leaving me with the Gatorade in one hand, and a twenty dollar bill in the other. Fuck. I’m such a fucking chump and this is all my fault. But somehow, I’m going to make it up to Jessie. Just quite how, I’m not sure yet, but the pretty girl hasn’t seen the last of me.
4
Jethro
I use a cloth to towel off, rubbing the fabric over my pecs before scrubbing at my six pack. The lights on stage are always so damn bright and they’re hot too. Not to mention the fact that as dancers, we’re basically on our toes the entire time, flexing our muscles and gyrating our hips to the ecstatic screams of the female audience.
“Good show today,” my buddy Peter grunts, swiping his towel through his hair. ““You think they liked it?”
I merely shake my head.
“Bud, they loved it. Some of those women practically came when you rubbed that belt over your crotch.” It sounds vulgar, and it is. Pete has a special dance move where he strips off his belt and then threads the leather strap through the vee of his legs before bringing it up tight and rubbing it against his package. Not only that, but he does the whole thing while swaying three sixty degrees, so that the ladies get a full view.
He grins.
“Hey, I aim to please. I’m working on some new moves that are going to make the ladies cream in their panties.”
I roll my eyes again because any more vulgar, and we’ll basically be having sex with the ladies in the audience. But then again, that’s what Thunder Strike is here to do. While their husbands are gambling at the tables, the wives come to our show to drink, ogle, and have a good time. So what if most of them are fifty and flabby? I aim to please, and it’s a good life.
But I’m not interested in shooting the shit with Peter, and so I merely shrug again and head over to the performers’ lounge. The place is kitted out with showers, lockers, and the whole shebang, so I dunk myself under a cold spray and then get out and dry off, focused on one thing only: I want to find that girl.
But as I wander around backstage, she’s nowhere to be seen. Instead, in the staff lounge is Tanya, one of the wardrobe assistants. We’ve chatted a little before, so I hit her up.
“Have you seen Jessie?”
She rolls her eyes.
“Oh, hey, it’s the sandwich thief.”
“Is that what I’m known as now?”
Tanya nods, looking disgusted.
“Yep. Jessie was pissed. I think that’s the only thing she had to eat today, and you took it.”
A pang strikes my heart again, but I try to look nonchalant.
“Yeah, yeah. Speaking of your friend, where is she?”
Tanya glances at the clock and shrugs.
“Jess already left to catch her bus. I usually cover for her the last couple minutes of her shift so she can duck out early. Otherwise, she has to stick around for an extra hour waiting for the next bus.”
“You’re a good friend.”
Tanya merely shrugs and goes back to whatever she’s doing. “Jessie would do the same for me.”
Clearly, I’ve been dismissed, so I stroll out and head to my truck. My heart’s heavy because I definitely fucked that poor girl over. She didn’t even take my cash offering, so I wonder what she’s going to eat tonight.