Page 75 of Lovers Fate

“Is there something I should know?”

“No of course not. It’s just…unexpected.”

I don’t have time to me to worry about what she thinks. I have two reasons for agreeing to what I didn’t want to in the first place. One, is money. Two, distinguish the bad apples from the ones that are rotten.

I get dressed and opt for a long dark brown-haired wig over my blond locks. I’m wearing a sexy nun costume with the cross upside down. I thought it was fitting given the name of the club and some of the assholes that use it for their benefit.

“This is going to be so much fun?”A voice filters through my head when I give myself one last once-over in the mirror.

“Look at you.” Julia one of the girls here tonight says followed by a whistle.

Gina looks up after doing a line of coke from her compact mirror on the vanity. Her eyes wide. High as kite. She’s usually nicer when she’s on something.

Her eyes glitter when she sees the short black skirt with slits on the front doing very little to hide my thong underneath. “Well look at you,” Gina says with praise. I almost didn’t recognize you for a second with the wig.” She smiles and winks. “My kind of girl. They’ll never know it’s you.”

It is kind of the point. I don’t want them to point me out the next they come. It’s best to keep them guessing. I look around at all the wigs and different outfits like I’m seeing them for the first time. This place is full of different ways I could disguise myself.

“Trust yourself,” the little voice in my head says, “This place is perfect.”

“Yeah,” I say giving her a small smile.

Gina and I have never really gotten along since the first time I ran into her Kaden but she’s not so bad. I think she has a thing for him she doesn’t want to admit but it’s not my problem. The Circle of Freaks is not my problem. They have their show and I have mine.

“Go get ‘em,” Rachel says urging me on.

Gina turns to face Rachel and clears her throat. “She’s hot.”

Rachel looks down her and lifts her chin. “And you’re high,” she tells her.

Gina pouts. “I want to taste…”

Rachel pushes her finger crushing her lips keeping her from finishing what she was about to say shaking her head. “Don’t.”

Gina gets up, giving Rachel a dirty look making her step back and storms out of the room.

What was that all about?

I glance at Rachel and she gestures for me to head out. “You have fans waiting.”

I snort and she laughs. And just like that, it’s like nothing happened. But something about their interaction feels off.

TWENTY-FOUR

I ignore the catcalls.The chills down my spine every time a man tries to eat me up with lust in their eyes or the way they adjust their cocks when they watch me dance.

Rachel was right. Tonight, lap dances is where the money is. There are so many routines you can do and according to her, this isn’t the city. Small towns don’t’ have many people and not many come through.

According to the girls, the carnival, the circus, and college students has continued to give the town life. Which translates into more customers for the club.

It’s funny when you need money, how quickly you pick up things when it comes to business. School doesn’t prepare you for this kind of life. The streets do and I don’t have experience in either. I’m picking up things as I go including how do to get men to drop their wallets without opening my legs. I didn’t realize it’s a skill. A skill I’m quickly learning to master.

“Hey, sweetheart.” I pause giving the man seated at a table for two minus one chair my attention. “Would you mind giving me a dance?” he asks.

I do fucking mind but I can’t tell him that. It’s bad for business. Instead, I smile. My red lipstick smooth on my lips as I step closer, the long black hair from my wig brushing on the small table as I lean in. “What would you give me for one?” I say, loud enough over the music.

My eyes run over his face, down his brown, black beard to the bulge between his legs and back up to his face. He isn’t that old. His hair isn’t gray but dark brown, long nose, and only a hint of a frown line on his forehead. I’m assuming middle-aged with rough hands judging with the way he reaches for his wallet. He certainly doesn’t work in an office. He probably works construction or is some sort of handyman.

He produces a fifty-dollar bill. I arch a brow, glance at his wallet and back until he takes out another one.That’s better.

---