“Holy shit, man. Where the hell did that come from?” his dark eyes are big and round.
I look at him blankly. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“I have never seen a crowd respond to anyone like that. They bum rushed the stage! They loved you!” A gleaming smile appears on his face once we’re back in the staging room.
I shrug cluelessly, still trying to process what the fuck just happened.
* * *
It’s justme and my good ole’ friend Johnny.
Johnny Walker Black that is. The male revue has cleared out, and I have been drowning my sorrows ever since. What the fuck just happened? Did I really just hit the bottom of the barrel and become a stripper? And why, if it is the bottom of the barrel, did I like it so much? I pour myself another shot. I wonder if I can make it to the bottom of this bottle. I drop my head onto my arm. I bet I could. I’d probably be dead afterwards, but I betcha I could. I slam the shot. One of the other guys handed me a piece of paper after the show. I couldn’t leave the staging room until everyone was gone. So here I sit, reading the words.
I wantto play with magic.
Your Dark Horse,Cassandra. Xx
Not happening,honey. I couldn’t touch her even if I wanted to. She looks too much like my past. Like my demon. Like my goddess. I take another shot. It burns going down. I wonder what Alana would think if she saw me now? An ex-con stripping for a living. Letting her go was the smartest choice and dumbest decision I’ve ever made.
Fuck the glass. I drink straight from the bottle.
“There’s only two reasons a man drinks like that.” Lorenzo takes a seat next to me and the chair creaks.
“Oh yeah? Do tell,” I mock.
“Money and women.” He ignores my tone. “Which is yours?”
I grip the Johnny Walker bottle. I wish everyone would just leave me the fuck alone.
“Okay, I’ll guess then. Woman.”
I scowl at Lorenzo. “No, no woman.”
“Is that yourdon’t fuck with meface?” Lorenzo laughs. “It’s cute. It makes me want to pet you like a kitten.” I glare. “Did she leave you?”
“No. It isn’t like that. It’s just...over.”
Lorenzo grabs the bottle and takes a swig. “Only one person decides when it’s over.”
“And who’s that?”
“The man upstairs. Until then, everything else is fair game.”
“Are you, like, some holy roller or something?” I ask sourly.
“No, just a believer,” he rumbles.
“I fucking destroyed it. So, trust me whenIsay, it’s over.” I take the bottle back and put it to my lips. “Tonight, I danced my first striptease, and I didn’t hate it. What does that say about me?”
“You’re a born entertainer?”
“I’m... I don’t know what the fuck I am.” I stare off into space.
“You’re human, just like the rest of us. We make mistakes, we find out things about ourselves we never knew, and we adapt.”
“Well, aren’t you insightful,” I gripe. “Do I also get to rub your belly for good luck, Buddha?”
“Now that I would pay to see,” Divan butts in. He walks behind the bar and stands in front of us.