“Yes.” I wish I didn’t sound so shaky. I wonder if all the girls do when they first come in. Maybe everybody is nervous when they first get started.
“You ever done it before?”
Of course, my first impulse is to lie. What if he asks for references or something like that? Besides, I’m sure I’m not giving off an experienced vibe. “No. This will be my first time.”
“A virgin.” I can tell he thinks this is funny, so I force a tiny smile. “Well, it looks like you got what it takes, but there’s more to the job than looking good in a tight dress.”
Yes, I’m ready for this. I’ve been psyching myself up all night. So what if people will be able to see me in practically nothing? It’s not like they can touch me. They can’t hurt me. This is a job, nothing more. If other girls can do it, so can I.
“Consider this your audition.” He lifts the glass to his lips. “Let me see what you’ve got.”
“Right now?” He nods before sipping his drink. “What should I do?”
“Strip down to your panties. Pretend we’re down there, on the floor. I’m just a customer.”
Right. Maybe I should’ve watched a few routines and practiced before doing this. Why didn’t it occur to me that he’d have me audition tonight?
I have to force myself out of the chair. My legs are shaking so hard it takes a second to steady myself. I need to get it together.
There’s a steady beat reverberating through the floor, and I use it, moving to it, as I run my hands over my chest, my waist, my hips. One corner of his mouth pulls up in either a smile or a smirk; I can’t tell which. I turn away from him, and it’s easier this way, my hands moving over my ass as I bend slowly, pulling the hem of the dress up until I know my panties are visible.
Disconnect. Go away.The same things I used to tell myself in the cafeteria when Chelsey and everybody else laughed and threw things at me. In the classroom, where nobody bothered being quiet as they whispered insulting things about me. I have practice in disassociating.
“Come on. Take it off. I don’t have all night.” I shrivel up on the inside but know there isn’t any way around this. I didn’t spend all night psyching myself up to chicken out now. That’s why I reach behind me, grabbing for the zipper, and begin to lower it.
I only get it halfway down my back before I can’t go any further. Not because the zipper is stuck, but because I’m stuck. I can’t do this.
“Turn around.” He sounds bored, and I know I’ve blown it. There was a small window of opportunity, but that window is closed now. I see it in his eyes when I gather the courage to look in them. “If you can’t take your clothes off for me up here, how are you going to do it down there with a bunch of guys watching?”
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, rubbing my arms like that will do anything to smooth out the goosebumps all over them. “I really do need a job, though. What about waitressing? I can do that. I can bring drinks to the customers. I don’t mind wearing something tight or low-cut or even see-through—”
He holds up a hand, wearing a tired expression. “I don’t need a waitress right now. I need a dancer. If you can’t dance, you need to go.”
And that’s it. No second chance. No hope of winning him over.
I blew it. Again. I embarrassed myself with nothing to show for it. “Thanks for your time,” I mumble before practically fleeing the room with my face on fire and tears pooling in my eyes.