Total pages in book: 157
Estimated words: 157032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 157032 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 785(@200wpm)___ 628(@250wpm)___ 523(@300wpm)
She picks up first ring. “Hey, how’s it going?”
“I didn’t go in.”
“What? Why not?”
I shrug. “I can’t work in a brothel, Jen.”
She stays silent on the other end of the phone.
“I‘ll get another job somewhere else.”
“You said it was a club.”
“It is...” I hesitate. “But there’s this VIP section, too, so effectively it’s a brothel.”
“The VIP section is not where you are working.”
“Yes, but some men are there for sex and sex alone.”
“Okay, so every nightclub in the United States of America, actually the world, is basically a brothel, too, then.”
I frown. “How?” Trust her to be all Devil’s advocate on me when I really just need her to agree with my cowardice.
“I guestimate that sixty percent of men in nightclubs are there for sex.”
I listen in silence.
“So, do you mean to tell me you won’t go to a nightclub because men are just there for sex?”
I roll my eyes. “That’s different.”
“How? You tell me how? You need a job. You have a babysitter at night. It’s one or two nights a week, Ash, and it’s behind the bloody bar.”
“She wants me to topless waitress.”
“Just say no.”
I think for a moment.
“Go in, see what it’s about, and if you feel uncomfortable walk out and don’t go back.”
I roll my lips and think as my eyes rise to a group of men disappearing into the club.
“Look, even the bloody bar jobs pay three fifty a night. For two shifts that’s seven -hundred a week, Ash. How could you earn that money while working full time for free at the hospital?”
I run my finger over my steering wheel as I think.
“You would have to be stupid to not even check it out. Hell, I’m thinking I might apply there, too.”
I smile as I imagine her walking around topless. “Now you are being ridiculous.”
“Yes, and you are being a prude.”
“What if Owen ever found out?” I sigh.
“Found out what? His mother worked behind a bar while she was studying to be a surgeon. I think Owen would be bloody proud that his mother got a second job to put a roof over his head.”
I slide back into my seat. Maybe she’s right…
“Just go in and see what they say.”
My eyes stay fixed on the door across the road.
“You don’t know anyone here, Ash. For the first time ever you can be whoever you want to be… and if that’s a part-time nympho, then so be it. It could actually be fun.”
I smile softly.
“Go in and make some new friends. Hell, tomorrow morning you will be cooking breakfast, making beds, and scrubbing fucking bathrooms. Enjoy being someone else for the night.”
I run my hand through my hair. “Do you think I look okay?” I ask.
“Yes, smoking hot. The guys will all cream their pants when they catch sight of you.”
I laugh as I look down at the dress I’m wearing. A camel, woolen ribbed dress, fitted with short-capped sleeves, which falls to my calves. It’s tight and sexy without being revealing or cheap. I have high, strappy tan sandals on, and my honey-colored hair is down and full with set curls. Jen did my makeup, I have smoky eyes and a pink gloss on my lips.
I look good, I know I look good, but for a place like this, I have no idea if it is appropriate.
“Are you going in?” she asks.
My heart jumps in my chest. “Yeah, I guess.” I pause as I move the rear view mirror to check my makeup. “God, I feel sick. I’m so nervous.”
“Just check it out. You may be home in an hour. It could be totally shit. Don’t stay if it’s seedy.”
“Okay.” I nod with renewed enthusiasm. “I can do this.”
“You can.”
“Right, wish me luck.”
“Good luck, babe.”
I hang up and blow out a deep breath. Just go in there and check it out, you can leave any time you want to, I remind myself. I gingerly get out of the car and take out the card that Eliza gave me to get into the club. I hold it in my hand and stare at it for a moment.
I feel like I’m on the precipice of going to Hell. Maybe I’m about to catch on fire.
The good girl in me is begging me to go home and get a job knitting sweaters.
The bad girl in me is daring me to go in and sex it up—show these men exactly what they can’t have.
The struggle I feel daily between my conscience and my responsibilities is real.
I put my hand on my stomach as I try to calm my nerves and walk across the road to the large, black double doors.
There are four bouncers in black suits standing around. They all look me up and down as I approach them.
“Hello…” I pause. “Eliza invited me to come tonight.”
The tall man smiles sexily as his eyes scan me up and down. “What’s your name, miss?”