Midnight Ballerina (5 page)

“What?” My stomach twisted into knots. One, because of how malicious Bianca was after just meeting me. Why would she try to humiliate me like that? I didn’t do anything to her. This was one of the reasons I didn’t have many girlfriends growing up. Back home, I mainly hung out with Carter. Amelia was the first female best friend that I ever had and at first, I was a little hesitant to hang out with her. From my experience, girls could be two-faced and liked drama. I lucked out with Amelia because she didn’t show signs of either.

And two, because I spilled a drink on the owner. Awesome.

“Don’t worry about it. He’s barely ever here and when he is, he stays in his office for most of the night.” Vanessa patted me on the back. “Mr. Buchanan isn’t so bad, he’s just a little intense sometimes and that comes off as scary to some of the girls, especially since he can have a bit of temper sometimes. But, he has a soft side.”

Bianca snorted loudly. “Sure he does, try to remember that when’s he chewing your ass out for showing up a minute late or not getting to your tables quick enough.” She made a face and I had a feeling that her getting yelled at was probably her own fault. She didn’t seem like she’d win employee of the month anytime soon, and that was just my observation from working with her for an hour.

“So, anyway, new girl. What’s your story? Single mom?” She flicked her eyes to Vanessa, who gave me a small smile. Maybe that’s why she seemed to be a little more nurturing than all of the other employees I met so far. “Daddy issues? Attention seeker? Just for the thrill of it?” She looked like she had more to add to the list and it made me wonder what she was—If I had to guess, she liked the attention.

“I’m a student, just looking to make some money to pay the bills.”

“Oh, that’s original. College student turned stripper. Never heard that one before. I think our girl Honey has been paying her way through school for ten years now, but I don’t think she’s gone to a class in two.” Bianca stood up, throwing me an icy glare. “Well, good luck with that. You probably won’t last long here anyway. I can tell you’re not made out for this type of place.”

She left the room, slamming the door shut, and I collapsed back onto the couch. Great. Well, I would just have to do my very best and see what happened. I could continue to look for a new job during the day when I didn’t have class and hopefully I could get caught up on the pile of bills that had been staring at me for the past month, untouched.

“I thought Randy was the owner,” I grumbled aloud and Vanessa giggled.

“No, Randy’s just the manager, and he’s a pretty good guy most of the time. Mr. Buchanan really is nice, he’s just very focused and not much of a talker. He doesn’t take shit from anyone either, which is smart, and probably why he’s so successful. Runs all of his businesses that way.”

“
Businesses
?”

“Yup.” She popped up off the couch and grabbed my hand. “He started out as a backwoods country boy that didn’t even have two nickels to rub together, and made a name for himself.” She opened the door, pushing gently on my back. “C’mon, you better get back out there and check on your tables. Don’t give Mr. Buchanan a reason to actually complain.”

“Thanks, Vanessa.”

She smiled as she straightened the sheer bra that she was wearing, pushing her boobs up so they were just beginning to spill out of the top. “No problem. Oh, and Randy said something about me taking you under my wing. Maybe with some pole dancing lessons?” She quirked one eyebrow and my stomach rolled once again. By the time the night was over, I was probably going to have several ulcers. “Are you really thinking about getting up on the stage?”

“Um…I guess. I’ve danced ballet since I was little. Randy thought that would be helpful, but since I didn’t have any other experience, he started me off waitressing. I didn’t think it would happen so soon.” I really needed to get on the ball about looking for another job. Quickly.

“Hmm…well, we can meet up sometime during the day and practice if you want then. Now, chin up and get back on out there.”

I pasted a smile on my face and did exactly as Vanessa suggested. I wasn’t going to let Bianca screw the night up for me, or this job.

MY FIRST NIGHT working at the club was overwhelming. The next few nights that I was scheduled definitely weren’t as bad. I didn’t spot Mr. Buchanan again either, so that was a plus since I probably would’ve further embarrassed myself in front of him. Most of the girls seemed friendly enough, well, except for Bianca. I just don’t think she liked people in general, unless they were packing something between their legs. Then she was all over that shit. She saw everything as a competition.

Whatever.

I tried not to worry about her, especially since I was making decent money. More than decent, really. Just after a few days of working, I had almost completely caught up on bills and still managed to have a little left over. It felt good to have that weight lifted off of my chest. But the nerves were starting to set back in. I have no idea how I’d gone this long without having an anxiety attack, considering the way I let myself get worked up.

It was time for my lessons with Vanessa.

I’d only been working at the club for a week, but I guess Randy wanted her to show me all of her stripper moves. That made the actuality of me getting up on that stage even more real, and I didn’t like the thought. I guess if I had to have anyone teach me, it would be Vanessa. She was a sweetheart and I got along with her so well, and that woman owned that freaking pole.

When I served drinks, I tried to avoid the stage because I wasn’t completely comfortable watching practically naked women dance around, men drooling all over them, but sometimes, I couldn’t look away. The club scene was definitely different from the dancing world I grew up in, but it was still dancing and that’s what I loved. It was beautiful and told a story, especially when Vanessa was up there; she put on a show. Her body and the way it moved were insane. I had never seen anything like it, even after years spent studying professionals and amateurs alike. Vanessa was a born dancer and most definitely needed to put her talents to better use. But I was trying not to judge. From the brief times that we got to talk to each other during breaks, I learned that she was in fact a single mom and her daughter was her world. Anyone could tell that by the way her face lit up whenever she talked about her.

A knock at the door stopped me from overthinking the situation, and I yelled down the hall that it was open, knowing it was Amelia.

“Roe, Roe,” she called from the living room, her voice coming closer as she walked down the short hallway leading to my bedroom. “There you are.” She smiled brightly, pushing a plate full of cookies into my hands.

“Another one of your creations?” I cautiously pulled back the plastic wrap, uncovering at least two-dozen cookies. Amelia loved to bake, it was her biggest passion in life; she said it was the southern girl in her. I think she was the only one to ever use the oven at the sorority house, and she didn’t even live there. I knew that her dream was to go to a culinary school, but her mom wasn’t having it, being a chef was not a respectable career, according to her. So, Amelia did as her mom said and instead enrolled in college, choosing secondary education as her major, even though she hated it. In a way, I was glad that she came here because we wouldn’t have met otherwise, but at the same time, I was sad for her. She was old enough to decide how to live her life.

“I think you’re going to love these. I made them especially with you in mind.” Sometimes Amelia got a little too creative when it came to her recipes, but I was always her guinea pig, and smiled whenever I tried something new—even if it was the craziest combination.

I took a bite and closed my eyes, savoring the taste, letting the still warm and gooey concoction melt in my mouth. It was like pure heaven all rolled up into one little cookie. I was going to gain at least five pounds by the time I was done because I had to eat every last one. They were that good. “Amelia, you’re the best friend ever. Did you seriously make me cookies with Milk Duds in them?” I asked in between bites of my second one.

“Yup. I guess that means you like them?” She grinned as I snatched the plate out of her hands as she tried to pull away from me. I glared at her and took another one, placing the plate on the bed next to me so I could keep guard. “I know you’ve been stressed lately and that those are like your crutch. So, they’re good?”

“Better than good.” I licked some chocolate off my fingers. “Brilliant. Is this the only reason why you came over?”

“Well, that and I miss my best friend. Your new job’s been keeping you busy. I might just have to come stalk you at work so I can see you.”

“Yeah, that’s probably not a good idea.” I shook my head and got up, heading for my closet so I didn’t have to look her in the eyes. I wasn’t sure if I would ever tell Amelia where I worked, and I most definitely didn’t think she would like to come “hang out” there. “My boss is kind of an asshole, so I don’t think he would like visitors randomly showing up.” That was kind of true. According to everyone, but Vanessa, Mr. Buchanan barely looked at, let alone spoke to the employees. Sounded like an asshole to me.

“Oh, whatever. If I was a paying customer what could he really say? What did you say the name of the place was?”

“I didn’t.” I grabbed a tank top and turned toward my dresser to pull out a pair of yoga pants. Amelia was eyeballing me, waiting for me to tell her the name, but I wouldn’t. Amelia liked to think she was also a secret spy in her spare time. She didn’t need to know any information. “So, anyway. Don’t you have a date with that guy tonight? What’s his name again? The one from the frat.” I rolled my eyes and Amelia answered with a roll of hers.

“Not all frat guys are bad, Monroe. Franklin is a nice guy.”

“Franklin sounds
so
nice,” I replied sarcastically. “Who really calls themselves Franklin? I mean, I know his parents stuck him with the name, but he could go by Frankie, Franko, anything but Franklin. I haven’t even met the guy and I can tell he has a silver spoon stuck up his ass and probably the personality to match. Why do you keep going for those kinds of guys?”

She shrugged her shoulders but we both knew why. Amelia lived to please her mom and bringing home someone named Franklin would make Mrs. Emerson the happiest woman in the world. Mrs. Emerson also didn’t like me, probably because she considered me ‘lower class’ and felt her daughter was better than I was. Luckily, Amelia didn’t listen to her mom when it came to that.

“Actually, I think you should meet Franklin. What do you think about a double date? Franklin has this friend that I think—”

“Don’t even go there,” I interrupted quickly, holding up one finger and wagging it. “Not happening. You know I don’t date. Don’t think you’re gonna sweet talk me into it, either.”

“But Monroe.” She pouted her glossy bottom lip and I crossed my arms over my chest. It wasn’t the first time that Amelia tried to get me to go out on a double date, and I’m sure it wouldn’t be the last time. She was persistent, I would give her that. “Just because you had one bad date with some asshole, doesn’t mean all of the other guys are the same. We would have so much fun!” She clapped her hands together and I began pushing her toward my bedroom door. The event that she was referring to had been a disaster, and I didn’t think it could even be classified as a date in the first place. All throughout high school, I dated Carter, but we broke things off right before I left for college. So, when I got to school, all of the guys on campus were a little overwhelming.

Needless to say, I ended up getting extremely drunk at my first party, basically because I was so in awe of the whole college party scene and having a newfound freedom, and I ended up in some guy’s bed.

Way to lose your virginity, right?

Yeah, Carter and I never really had much of a physical relationship, it was more out of convenience and we were best friends. He always seemed to be afraid to take things further than the heavy make-out sessions we occasionally participated in, and honestly, I probably was too. I think he didn’t like to see me with other guys, either, and I was okay with that. I never had to worry about a prom date and whenever we went out, we always had the best time.

“It wouldn’t be fun, Amelia. It would probably be torture. Let me guess? The guy’s name is something silly like Kenneth.” I continued to shove her toward the front door but she stopped in my living room with her lips pursed, fidgeting on her feet.

“What? No, of course not,” she sputtered.

“What’s his name then?” I asked and she switched back to her other foot, placing one hand on her hip and mumbling something. “What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”

“Carleton. His name is Carleton.” I tried to contain a laugh, but I couldn’t help it, and after a few minutes of not being able to stop, so much that my stomach hurt and I was bent over at the waist, Amelia finally cracked a smile, too. “He’s Franklin’s best friend and they’re always together. He ends up being the third wheel, though, and sometimes it’s a little awkward.” She sighed loudly. “He’s really not that bad. I just thought it would be fun if all four of us went out and maybe if you two hit it off….”