“Well actually, I worked as a hostess at a gentleman’s club called Club Z in Manhattan. You know that, right? That’s why my mom sent me out here, because I set fire to another girl’s locker while I was at Club Z.”
I stare at her in shock.
“And at this men’s club, you wore bikinis?”
Hadley bites her lip and nods.
“With stilettos most of the time. And sometimes, I wore even less, if you get my drift, because of the big tips.”
Holy shit. Is my niece telling me what I think she’s telling me? But Hadley’s not embarrassed.
“Everyone does what they have to do to get by in New York, and for me, that meant pleasing men. I liked it, Uncle Frank, and I’m not ashamed to admit it either. In fact, I even got my other little cousin, Lindy, into the life too. Of course, she’s married with a baby now, but we had good times at Club Z.”
I pause for a moment to think. Here is where a lot of guys would go berserk and accuse the beautiful girl of being a slut, a whore, not to mention a host of other names. But oddly, it doesn’t bother me because I’ve always believed that women should have full agency over their bodies. In fact, I admire the fact that Hadley obviously revels in her career choice, and is likely very good at it too. I clear my throat.
“Well, you must have lived a fast-paced life in New York then,” is my diplomatic response.
She nods and lets out another laugh.
“I guess you could say that, Uncle Frank,” she agrees. “It was more than a little fast. It was fun too, and that counts for something when you’re young, right?”
I smirk.
“It counts for something when you’re old too,” is my low growl. “I’d like to have some fun.”
Hadley spins around to look at me.
“Well, I can show you what kind of fun there is to be had, if you want, Uncle Frank. Remember, it’s my specialty.”
Holy shit, is this woman saying what I think she’s saying? The alpha male in me says that I should take what’s on offer. I should claim, possess, and utterly destroy the sweet girl while savoring her curves. But the problem is that I’m not just some ruthless client. I’m Hadley’s uncle, and that means that I have morals and responsibilities to her, and to our family too. Fuck. What do I do now? This conundrum is slippery and convoluted, but the solution could feel so good all the same.
7
HADLEY
A week later.
Missouri is absolutely beautiful, and I’m blissfully content here, which surprises me. I suppose I thought I was being enlisted in a life of back-breaking manual labor, but Frank has a staff here at Renfrew Acres. As a result, they don’t need me in the fields and I stay near the farmhouse most of the day. It’s a nice routine because Frank steps out at dawn to begin his morning chores, and he often brings a lunch with him. As a result, the handsome man doesn’t come home until the sun is setting, and then we settle in for a home-cooked meal as well as some reading by the fireplace before lights out.
I never thought going to bed at seven each night would be so soothing, but there you have it. A former night owl is now Miss Bright and Early. Who would have guessed?
But it’s nice because it’s a re-set for my internal rhythms and the change has been refreshing. Instead of waking up at noon hung-over with sticky gunk in my eyes, now I get up early and make Frank a big breakfast before he goes out. Then, I spend my days puttering about the house cooking, cleaning, washing, and working on assorted crafts. At the moment, I’m knitting a scarf for my step-uncle, although the vivid green color isn’t really him. Oh well. I hope he’s tickled by it, all the same.
With a sigh, I stretch and then get up out of my chair and step outside onto the porch. The clear blue skies above look like something straight out of a movie because there’s nothing but acres of azure for miles, dotted with only a smattering of puffy white clouds. The sun shines brightly, but it’s not so hot that it’s uncomfortable. Instead, the air is sweet with a slight breeze, ruffling my curls and making me sigh with contentment.
I feel light. And free. And so, so happy. This is why I’ve made it into a routine to take a walk every day, and slipping on my shoes, I begin to head out into the maze of corn. It’s soothing, watching the wind ripple over the top of the stalks, and the beautiful scenery and fresh air are good for my peace of mind. I guess this is what they mean when they say that nature is food for the soul because I feel like I actually have the space to decompress and breathe deeply. Plus, the days are long, and they go by slowly instead of melting together into one crazy, mushy mess that I’ve forgotten by the next morning. I’ve even abstained from social media, so I have no idea what’s going on my old life and it feels damn near perfect.