Stripped (18 page)

The song ended and she quickly made her way
backstage, keeping her head down the entire way. Even back there, she didn’t
feel protected from the ridicule she’d just experienced. She needed to be
alone. She went to the storage room, sinking to the cold concrete floor and
hugging her knees to her chest.

 She’d been fooling herself for thinking she could
feel normal. A stripper couldn’t have a relationship, or even a friendship,
with a doctor without raising eyebrows. It had been easier for Abby when
everything was predictable and stable. Since she’d met Chris, she’d started to
hope for things she couldn’t have.

The burn of her eye makeup stung her eyes as she
cried, and she lamented the unfairness of it all. Why couldn’t Chris have just
looked down on her, like everyone else? She wouldn’t be here, ashamed and
bawling in the storeroom, if he had.

The door swung open and Mickey did a double take
when he saw her.

“I know
you’re
not in here getting high,” he
said, raising an eyebrow.

“I’m just having a moment,” she said, wiping her
cheek with the back of her hand.

“Stuff at home?”

“No, stuff here.”

“May I ask what?” Mickey looked concerned.

“Nothing, really. Just some people here who were
laughing at me.”

“Laughing at you?” He was incredulous, and Abby knew
she would have to explain.

“I’m sort of seeing, but not really seeing, this guy
who’s a doctor. Some of his coworkers found out I work here and they came here
to make fun of me, apparently.”

Mickey rolled his eyes as he looked down at her.

“Some pretty mature doctors, then, huh?” he said.

“Doctors and nurses.” Abby sniffed.

“Oh, now I get it. Women.”

“Yeah, women are particularly brutal, aren’t they?
That’s always been my experience.”

“High school?” he asked knowingly. She nodded
miserably.

 “I was hounded by this pack of girls who called me
‘Shabby’ because I only had one pair of jeans and they were too short. Those
women out there laughing at me brought me right back.”

Mickey nodded sympathetically.

“I can identify. I took my share of shit in high
school, too. But, Abby, those women probably stuff their fat asses into
drawstring pants and wear them with garden clogs every day. What makes them so
special?”

Abby stared at a case of whiskey across from her on
the floor, not answering.

“Listen,” Mickey said, bending down closer to her,
“You’re beautiful, smart and honest. It doesn’t surprise me in the least that a
doctor is interested in you. You aren’t like most of the other girls here.
There’s nothing tawdry about you. The women who came to gawk wish they were
you
,
and the men wish they were
him
, if he’s with you.”

Abby smiled at Mickey, sighing.

“You’re probably right,” she said.

“Of course I am. The sign out front says, ‘Mickey’s’
doesn’t it? I’m always right in my own house. Now get that tight ass out there
and shake it like those bitches only dream of being able to.”

“Thanks, Mickey,” she said, rising from the floor.

“But first go put on some fresh makeup. You look
like shit.”

Chris flew down the stairs, grabbing his stethoscope
to keep it from falling off his neck. He had been in too big of a hurry to wait
for the elevator. What he had just heard from Reed in Charlotte’s office had
shaken him. He pushed his way through the double doors of the ER, on a mission.

When he walked into the lounge, it was quiet, with
some people watching the news and others eating at a table.

“Kelsey,” he barked to a nurse who sat on the couch.
“Who else went to the club with you?”

Kelsey colored with embarrassment, stammering.

“Who went there?” Chris demanded.

“Uh … it was me, Angie, Mara, Pat and Mike.”

Chris’ eyes shot to a doctor who was eating at the
table.

“Pat?” he demanded angrily. “You?”

“We just went out for an evening, what’s the big
deal? Did your girlfriend say something?”

“No, I heard from someone else because apparently
you guys have been talking about her.”

Two nurses snuck out of the room, seeming to sense
that the tension was only going to rise.

“It’s a free country, Chris. I saw your girlfriend’s
tits, but so did a couple hundred other guys who were there.”

“You’re a real piece of shit, Pat. You have to go
check Abby out because you can’t get a fucking date on your own. Yeah, Abby
works at a strip club. I’m not embarrassed by it, I just didn’t mention it
because it’s none of your goddamn business. Any of you.”

He wanted to say more, but shook his head and
stormed from the room instead. Chris was embarrassed by their behavior. He
hoped Abby hadn’t recognized any of them. The thought of her hurting was
painful for him. He was still reeling from the way he had seen Kathy treat her.

Abby was capable of standing up for herself, Chris
knew that. So why didn’t she? He sensed it was because she didn’t think she was
worth standing up for. He needed to show her that she was.

She hated the call she was about to make, but Abby
knew she had no choice. She couldn’t bring herself to leave Audrey and Sara
with a stranger. It would be no fun for her or Chris if she was worried about
them the whole weekend.

“Hey,” Chris said in greeting, and she cringed as
she tried to think of how to tell him.

“Hi. I can’t come to California with you. I’m
sorry.”

“How come?”

“You know … just the girls and all. Work. I just
can’t get away from my life for that long. Please understand. I appreciate you
asking me and I hope you have a great time with your friends. I checked out the
photos of the house you sent, and it looks amazing.”

There was silence, and she held her breath as she
waited for him to speak.

“Okay.”

Surprised she had gotten off so easily, she reached
into her purse and pulled out the envelope he had given her.

“Is there any way you can get a refund on the ticket
you bought me?”

“I don’t care about that, Abby. Keep it in case you
change your mind.”

“I can’t change my mind, Chris. It’s tomorrow and
I’d have no one to take care of the kids. I can’t just go places the way you
can.”

“You could, but you refuse to take help from anyone.
It’s like you want to prove you don’t need anything I offer.”

“That’s not fair, Chris. I’m sorry, I have to go,
I’m late for a meeting.”

As she walked toward the conference room, Abby shook
her head as she recounted the conversation. Chris didn’t understand that she
didn’t do long weekends at beach houses the way he and his friends did. It was
another reminder of just how different they were.

“Honesty brought her puppy to school today,” Sara
gushed over dinner. “Can we get one, Abby? Please?”

“First of all,
Honesty
?” Abby said
disdainfully. “Is that seriously her name?”

“I think so. Anyway, can we?”

“Puppies are a ton of work, Sara. And we don’t have
a fence around the yard.”

“I know, but they’re so cute. Please? I’ll take care
of it.”

“Maybe we could think of a better pet for us, like a
fish,” Abby offered.

“A fish? That’s no fun. I can’t pet a fish or take
it for a walk,” Sara groaned.

“Maybe a cat,” Justin suggested. Abby glared at him.

“Yeah, but there’s the litter box to take care of …”
she said.

“Dog or cat? You can choose,” Sara said. Abby was
impressed by her shrewd negotiating skills.

“I will think about a cat,” she said. Sara clapped
happily.

“A girl cat,” she said. “All white! We can get her a
pink collar.”

“But I’m just thinking about it. That means maybe,”
Abby reminded her. Sara looked at her solemnly.

“I’ll be really good,” she promised. Abby smiled,
knowing she would likely relent. She had never had a pet growing up, and she
wanted Audrey and Sara to have the things that she had missed out on.

Abby felt like time had stopped as she sorted
through paperwork on her desk Thursday morning. She was still glum about things
with Chris. He didn’t understand that she was the least impulsive person he
would likely ever meet.

She pulled the envelope with the plane ticket out of
her purse and looked at the departure time for the hundredth time. 8:30. And it
was 8:50, so he was already in the air. Why was she still thinking about it?

“Do you still have that spreadsheet?” Marla asked as
she walked to Abby’s desk to study the papers there.

“I can email it to you, that’ll be faster,” Abby
said.

“Plane tickets? Are you going on vacation?” Marla
asked, smiling.

“Oh. No. Chris wanted me to go to Malibu with him
this weekend, but I can’t.”

“That’s awful! Why not?”

“You know how it is. My sisters, work … I just can’t
get away from today until Monday.”

Marla gave Abby a look as she sat down in the chair
in front of her desk.

“No, you’re not blaming this on work. I would gladly
send you out of here for this trip. This is exactly what you need, Abby. A
break from how hard you work all the time. And from the kids, too. It’s good
for you.”

“It’s not just work. You know things aren’t great
with my Mom, but I haven’t shared every detail with you. I can’t leave the
girls with her or ask Justin to take care of them that whole time. He has class
and work. It was a nice gesture for Chris to make, but I just can’t do it.”

“They can stay with me,” Marla said.

“What?”

“Sara and Audrey. We’d love to have them. Jack and I
miss having our kids around since they both left for college.”

“Marla, I can’t ask that.”

“You didn’t, I offered. I’d love it, really, Abby.
I’ll pick them up as soon as I leave work and take them to school tomorrow.
We’ll do some fun stuff this weekend. I have no plans. Come on.”

“You’re the best boss ever. I probably would go, but
the plane’s already in the air,” Abby said sadly. “It’s just not meant to be.”

Marla glared at her from across the desk.

“There are other flights. Get your ass to the
airport and get one,” she said.

“But …”

“But nothing. Write down the names of the girls’
schools, what time they get out, and then get the hell out of here.”

Abby stared back at Marla, considering. She did
trust her completely with her sisters. She would have to take the weekend off
at the club, but she had one coming, because she never took time off.

“Okay. I’ll do it,” she said, excited at the prospect.

As she studied the directions to the house on her
phone, Abby started feeling nervous. Chris didn’t even know she was coming. The
address of the house had been listed in the email he had sent her with photos
of it. She hoped her arrival would be a nice surprise. More than anything, she
was nervous about meeting his friends. She had never been social, and she
worried she wouldn’t fit in with them.

The phone’s GPS directed her down a private lane,
and she drove down it cautiously. She wound around the tree-lined path, gaping
when a sprawling beachfront home came into view. The photos hadn’t done it
justice; the house was a sprawling marvel of modern architecture, and the blue
waves of the ocean were the most stunning backdrop Abby had ever seen.

Her stomach churned anxiously as she rang the front
doorbell, and a middle-aged woman wearing jeans and a t-shirt answered.

“Hi, I’m looking for Chris Reneau. He was coming
here with Reed?” Abby second-guessed her decision to come, sure something was going
to go wrong. It wasn’t the right house, or they hadn’t come at the last minute,
or Chris would be upset with her.

“Come in,” the woman said warmly. “They’re out on
the deck. I’m Angela, I work here. Can I get you a drink or take your bag if
you have one?”

“No, thanks,” Abby said, following Angela through
the foyer into a magnificent room with a high ceiling that was filled with
elegant but comfortable looking furniture.

“This place is amazing,” she said, admiring the
walls of windows that maximized the view.

“It is. You’ll have a great weekend here. Just
through that door.”

Abby took a deep breath as she opened the door. Three
women sunning themselves on chaise lounges looked over at her.

“Hi,” one of them said, covering her eyes to block
out the sun. “Can I help you?”