Authors: Brenda Rothert
“How old are you?” Abby asked.
“32. How old are you?”
“24.”
“Are you ready to order?” The waitress looked
expectantly at Abby.
“I’ll have a large garden salad with no cheese. No
dressing.”
“For you, sir?”
“I’ll take the pastrami on rye and some potato
soup.”
Brianna flashed another smile at Chris before
leaving the table.
“How long have you worked at Mickey’s?” he asked.
Abby considered.
“I started as a cocktail waitress when I was 20 and
I started dancing a month later. Around four years, I guess.”
“Do you like it?”
Abby looked away, uncomfortable.
“I’ve always loved dancing. I had a friend growing
up whose mother taught lessons, and she taught me for free. So the dancing
part, I do enjoy. But the stripping part…” She shrugged. “I guess I’ve gotten
ambivalent about it. At first it really bothered me. If I hadn’t needed the
money so much, I wouldn’t have been able to do it.”
Chris watched her from across the table, and Abby
wondered what he was thinking.
“Have you lived in Chicago your whole life?” he
asked.
“In the area, yes. We bounced around a lot of
different neighborhoods growing up. How about you?”
“I was born in Germany because my Dad was working
there then. We lived in several countries while I was growing up, and I got
assigned to Benedict for my residency when I finished med school. I liked it,
so I took a job in the ER when they offered it.”
“And you’re single?” Abby asked, her words more of a
surprised statement than a question.
“Uh, newly single. Just went through sort of a
breakup last month,” Chris said.
“Ah,” Abby said knowingly.
“What’s that for?” Chris’ eyes twinkled with
amusement.
“You’re on the rebound. Asking out anything that
moves.”
“Quite the opposite,” he said, laughing. “I’m on a
long break from all that. It took me a while to get disentangled from the last
woman I went out with, and I plan to enjoy being single again.”
“I have to admit, that’s a relief,” Abby said,
smiling. “I never, ever date men I meet at the club.”
“But you said yes to me.”
“It’s just lunch. And we’ve both established we
don’t want anything to come of it.”
“We didn’t really meet at the club, anyway,” Chris
said. “We officially met at the hospital. So what’s your stance on being
friends with men you meet at hospitals?”
“I suppose I’m open to it.”
“What do you like to do for fun?”
Abby’s brows furrowed as she considered.
“I work a lot, so there’s not a whole lot of time
for fun. I take my sisters to do things on the weekends. They like to go
bowling and roller skating. Last year I took them to Disneyworld. That was the
most fun any of us have ever had.”
“Do you like to go to the movies?”
“Sure,” she said. “It’s been years since I’ve been
to anything but the newest animated movie, but I do like it.”
Brianna delivered the food to their table and Abby
was again hit with a wave of nervousness. She didn’t have friends outside of
the club, and she only saw the other dancers when they worked together. Lunch
out with anyone other than Marla was unusual for her.
“What do you do for fun?” she asked.
“I’m like you, I guess. Work kind of dominates my
time. I work 7 p.m. to 7 a.m., and by the time I sleep, eat, work out and do
the laundry and housework, it’s time to go back to work. Why are you smiling
like that?” he asked, smiling back at her.
A flush crept across her cheeks.
“I was…picturing you doing housework,” she admitted,
still smiling. Chris laughed.
“How did I look?” he asked. Abby was flustered as
she tried to think of an answer.
“Cute,” she admitted shyly.
“The soup’s great, do you want a taste?” he asked.
Abby wanted to decline, but she was intrigued by the intimacy of sharing his
spoon, so she took it. The creamy soup tasted of ham and potatoes.
“It’s good,” she agreed.
“You want some more?”
“No, thanks. I have to be pretty careful about what
I eat.”
They ate in silence for a bit, and Abby wondered
whether she should be making conversation.
“Can we have lunch again when you’re free?” Chris
asked.
“Sure. I have a work lunch tomorrow, but I’m free
after that.”
“Friday? We can meet here again if you want to.”
“Okay.”
When they finished lunch, Abby reached into her
purse for her wallet.
“I’m paying,” Chris said, laying bills on the table.
“I’d rather pay for my own. This isn’t a date,” Abby
said pointedly.
“You can pay another time,” he offered.
“Friday.”
“We’ll see.”
As he held the door open for her, Abby admired the
line of his jaw and his chocolate brown eyes. She remembered seeing him and his
friends at the club and wishing she could date someone like them. Ironic, she
thought, that she’d gone out of her way to tell Chris she didn’t want to.
Chapter 3
“You’ll never guess who I had lunch with yesterday,”
Abby told Sam as they sat together at a vanity backstage at Mickey’s.
“A guy?” Sam squealed. “You haven’t been out with
anyone in such a long time!”
“I know. And it wasn’t just a guy – it was the Greek
God.”
“Shut up!” Sam said, swiveling toward her. “How?”
“When I took my Mom to the hospital Monday night, he
was the doctor. He called the next day and asked me to lunch.”
“Holy shit, Abby. A doctor? How was the lunch?”
“It was good,” Abby said, smiling. “I like him. I
think we might become friends.”
“Did you bitch him out for not wanting a lap dance?”
Sam asked, pressing a tube of dark pink lipstick to her lips.
“No. We’re going to lunch again tomorrow.”
“I have a date with Adam Presley tomorrow after
work,” Sam said, grinning.
“He’s married, Sam,” Abby said, frowning.
“To a total bitch. You’d feel sorry for him if you
knew how bad she treats him.”
“What kind of a date can you go on at 3:00 in the
morning?”
“A date at my apartment.”
“Be careful, Sam,” Abby said softly.
“Do you think I want to employ skanks?” Mickey’s
voice, shrill with agitation, was heading toward them, and Abby stiffened. A
young dancer whose stage name was Mindy Maxwell was storming toward them, with
Mickey behind.
“Men come here to live out their fantasies!” Mickey
yelled, waving his hands for emphasis. “How many of them do you think fantasize
about a pussy with stubble? Get that shit waxed before you come back into my
club!”
Mindy was tearful after his tirade, but she remained
silent, grabbing her coat and leaving quickly.
“Let me see you two,” Mickey said, snapping his
fingers at Abby and Sam, who both stood up. His eyes roamed them from head to
toe, and since she knew he wasn’t aroused by women, Abby felt like a specimen
being inspected.
“You’re still doing Pilates?” he murmured to Abby.
“Yes. Four times a week.”
He reached into her hair and pulled a long section
around her shoulder, leaning down to smell it.
“Peppermint? I thought I told you coconut,” he said
briskly.
“You did, but I like this one, and I want to have a
unique scent,” Abby said.
“I like it,” he said, pushing the hair back over her
shoulder and reaching for Sam’s. He sniffed a section and released it, staring
into her eyes for a few seconds.
“You clean?” he asked.
“Yes, Mickey,” Sam said, looking away.
“I like you, Lacey. You make me good money. But if I
find out you’re using, you’re out on your ass. No more chances. Understand me?”
Sam nodded silently. Abby hoped Sam wasn’t using
again. She said she’d stopped, but Mickey had an uncanny ability to spot
dancers who used drugs. Abby was afraid to touch drugs, alcohol or even
cigarettes.
She opened with her “Angel of Harlem” routine,
working her legs and hips around the pole. When she made her way to the row of
men with bills ready, she found herself looking at them. Their faces ranged
from young to old, clean shaven to bearded, but they had one thing in common:
all of them stared hungrily at her body.
She employed her most reliable strategy for coping
with the leering expressions; she thought about the money they were tucking
into the string of her panties. It was fall, and she was already thinking about
Christmas. It would be the first one in their new home, and she wanted to make
it special. They would have a large tree surrounded with presents.
As she rubbed her powdery scented breasts into the
scratchy beard of a strange man, Abby’s mind was on her plans to decorate the
outside of the house with lights, which Sara had always wanted.
It was usually hard for Abby to drag herself out of
bed for work on Friday mornings. By the time she finished at the club and got
home, she was lucky to be in bed by 4 a.m. The demanding buzz of the 6:30 a.m.
alarm always came too quickly.
But she felt more energized than usual by the
thought of seeing Chris again. She dressed quickly in black linen pants and a
dark green blouse that revealed just a little cleavage.
Strappy black sandals completed the outfit and
showed off the red polish on her toenails. Since she was short on time, she
swept her hair into a thick bun, letting a few pieces escape in the front.
“Abby, can I spend the night at Emily’s?” Audrey
asked as she walked into the bathroom.
“Did you study for your math test last night?”
“Yes, with Justin,” Audrey answered, slightly
annoyed.
“And is your room clean?”
“I’ll get it cleaned before school.”
“Okay, I’ll drop you off at her house after dinner.”
“Okay,” Audrey said, darting out of the room.
As Abby dropped her sisters off at school, her mind
wandered to Chris. She chided herself for dreaming of him. He was a doctor, and
she was a stripper. She had to be careful. She had been asked out by a lot of
men at the club over the years she had worked there, but had refused all of
them because she knew there was only one reason they wanted to date her.
By the time she arrived at her office, Abby was
feeling apprehensive about the lunch. What was the point? She wasn’t like other
women, who could have normal relationships. She was responsible for Justin,
Sara, Audrey and her Mom. Her work schedule rarely allowed her to go out on a
Friday or Saturday night. And Chris had said he wanted to enjoy being single,
anyway.
She distracted herself with work until her cell
phone rang mid-morning.
“Abby, it’s Audrey. I forgot we have a field trip
today and I was supposed to bring my lunch. Can you bring me lunch at Laramie
Park?”
Abby sighed to herself. If she had gone through
Audrey’s book bag like she should have, she probably would have seen a note
about this, she realized.
“Sure. What time do you need it?”
Audrey asked someone next to her.
“We’re eating at 11:45,” she said. “At the big
pavilion.”
“Okay. I’ll be there then with your lunch.”
“Thanks.”
Abby decided it might be for the best as she dialed
Chris to cancel. His voice was sleepy as he answered.
“Hey, Abby,” he said, a smile in his voice. She
pictured him in bed and felt her resolve crumbling.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m sorry for waking you up.”
“No, I don’t mind,” he murmured.
“I have to cancel on lunch. One of my sisters just
called because she forgot her lunch and she’s on a field trip. I have to take
her something.”
“Where at?”
“Laramie Park.”
“I’ll take you. I know where it is. We can just eat
on the way if you want to.”
“Oh,” Abby said, taken aback. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, of course. What time do we need to be there?”
“11:45.”
“Okay. What does your sister want for lunch? I’ll
pick it up on my way.”
“Um, just a ham sandwich would be fine. Maybe some
chips and a drink.”
“Okay,” he said. “I’ll pick you up at 11:15.”
Abby felt displaced as she waited in the front lobby.
She couldn’t place why at first, but it came to her just as Chris pulled up out
front. She was used to doing everything on her own. No one had ever offered to
help her like Chris had. Justin helped with the girls, but he did what Abby
asked him to. She wasn’t used to anyone doing something for her without her
asking, and she rarely asked.