Page 78 of Wicked Pickle

“I have a confession,” Marietta says. “It’s a big one.”

“Hold that thought,” Jenna says. “Let me put these in the sink.”

I slide on a pair of pale gold heels and arrange the contents of my purse until she comes back.

Marietta spies my cache of condoms. “Good call.”

Jenna bounces back in. “Well, what is it?”

Marietta waits until both Jenna and I are sitting on the bed, waiting.

Then she blurts out, “I auditioned at Silk Pearl today.”

“What?” I cry.

“Why?” Jenna asks.

“I just wanted to try it out.” Marietta sits on the chair, fiddling with the hem of her shorts. She seems surprised at our reaction.

We should be more supportive. “How did it go?” I ask.

“They didn’t hire me.” She stares at her hands.

“Did they give you a reason?” Jenna sounds relieved.

“I need to tone my belly.” Marietta lifts her shirt and pokes at her perfectly smooth skin.

“But you’re so skinny!” I say.

“I need to have definition, they said. It’s a competitive field. But they liked that I had tiny tits. Their words. Apparently, some people dig that.”

“Are you going to go back?” Jenna asks.

Marietta shrugs. “I’m doing crunches every day.”

“Okay,” I say. “Please let us know if you go again. We’ll go with you. We don’t want you to be in danger.”

“Oh, Silk Pearl is nice. There were a ton of women there and men in suits. I hung out to watch the lunch crowd.” She sits up tall. “I even paid for a lap dance so I could see what it was like.” Her eyes light up. “Did you know men aren’t allowed to touch the dancers, but they are fine if women do?”

Oh, goodness.

“Our little Marietta’s branching out,” Jenna says. “Do you think you’re bi?”

Marietta shakes her head. “Oh, no. We ended up talking about bra sizes and if she had any tips for me to get things that fit as well as hers did. You know, before she took it off.”

I cough into my hand. “Oh. Okay. Wow.”

“Don’t be so shocked,” Marietta says. “You had sex in a classroom.”

She has me there.

Jenna holds out a hand to squeeze Marietta’s. “I’m not saying I disapprove. I think sex work is fine as long as no one is being taken advantage of. But why get a master’s degree in political science if you’re going this direction? It might disqualify you for a lot of jobs.”

“Oh.” Marietta looks at her hands again. “I didn’t think of that.”

“It’s all right,” I tell her. “You have time to figure this out.”

There’s a knock at the door.

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