Page 42 of Fragile

He shook his head. “So, you said before. Not good enough. What’s it called?”

“Aquarius,” I muttered, swallowing thickly.

He dashed a hand down his face. “That’s not a bar, that’s a strip club.”

Shaking my head, I started to move away, his nearness was way too intense. “It’s a gentleman’s club,” I corrected.

“Same thing,” he said, following my retreat. “It’s a seedy dive; the type of place that makes you want to wipe your feet on the way out, Leonie.”

I held out a hand, feeling slightly stalked as he closed the distance between us. “The dancers don’t get naked or anything,” I reassured him.

My motion brought him to a stop, and he peered down his perfect condescending nose. The scar on his eyebrow seemed to stand out. “They do in the back for the private performances.”

Standing firm, I licked my lips which were suddenly quite dry. “Well, I wouldn’t know anything about that. I work serving drinks, that’s it.”

He drilled. “In your underwear?”

“No, of course not. I wear a uniform,” I defended.

He motioned towards my body with a flick of his hand. “Let’s see it,” he stated, adding a nod of his head.

My mouth dropped open in shock and a surge of resentment shot through me. “What?”

Gabriel had successfully pushed me into a corner. Drat, I usually got changed back into my jeans after my shift but I’d been in such a rush to leave that I’d kept my uniform on under my coat.

He raised his eyebrows, delivering a ‘you heard me’ look. “Unbutton your coat, I want to see this uniform.” Gabriel folded his arms, his stance suggesting he was going nowhere until I did as he asked.

My shoulders drooped. “I think you’re unhinged,” I sighed, feeling slightly deflated. It didn’t last long.

A cruel smile curled his lips. “You have no idea, kitten. Do it Leonie or I’ll do it for you.” That tone was now threatening but I didn’t feel afraid, if anything a strange shiver of excitement snaked up my backbone.

Taking a deep breath, I undid the belt of my raincoat and slid it off, letting it fall to the floor in a puddle. Although I itched to tug the hem of my shorts down, I refrained.

His eyes roamed over my body causing my nipples to pebble against my top. “Uniform?” he barked with a laugh. “You may as well be naked.”

“I’ve worn less on stage, Gabriel, this isn’t that bad. It’s shorts and a top,” I replied, attempting to downplay it.

“You look like a slut. It’s cheap and beneath you.”

His words hurt. “And now you’re just being rude.”

He wrinkled his nose with distaste as he drank in my clothing. “Doesn’t it bother you, prancing around in front of dirty old drunks looking like a sex worker?”

“Now you’re just being offensive.” A bit of temper rose to the surface and I was thankful for that as I needed all the help I could get. That earlier flare of excitement was still there but so was that feeling of injustice. How dare this man judge me; a boy that was born with a silver spoon in his mouth.

I hated how he was now looking at me. “Anyway, it’s none of your business what I wear or where I work.”

He didn’t like that and a dark look flitted across his face. “Considering your choice of venue, I think I should make it my business. I wonder what your fancy dance school would think if they found out you were working in a strip joint.”

“I don’t intend to tell them and it’s none of their business anyway, or yours,” I said, purposefully repeating myself.

Gabriel wasn’t listening. “Don’t you have any self-respect?” He was being downright nasty now and I felt tears prick the back of my eyes as he was right. Working there did make me feel lower than low.

I felt it necessary to point out, “Self-respect is great when you can afford it.”

His entire face twisted in confusion. “What? You surely can’t be that desperate for money. What about your student funding?”

“It’s isn’t enough. Not to survive in London anyway,” I stated with a wobble in my voice.

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