Total pages in book: 44
Estimated words: 41282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 138(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 41282 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 206(@200wpm)___ 165(@250wpm)___ 138(@300wpm)
Wow. I thought Gian was a good man, and I had no idea Margot had been through so much.
“And that’s just how he’s treated me as a boss,” Margot says quickly. “We never—“
“Margot, I never even thought, and,” my voice catches in my throat, imagining her loss. I think about how my family is all gone now, save Tommy, and it breaks my heart. “And thank you for sharing that with me. Gian is nothing like I thought he was before I met him … and there’s still so much more I don’t know about him. And I’m so sorry for what you went through. I’m glad Gian could help you.” I am, too. I have come to really care for Margot and I’m so grateful that Gian could help her, and could make it so I had this wonderful person in my life. She’s the first friend I’ve ever had who I felt could always be my friend. And I don’t want to ruin that by pressing for her to tell me something that Gian should tell me.
“Don’t let me bring you down, tonight. Let’s have fun tonight,” Margot says. I can hear the crack in her voice, no doubt thinking about her daughter and the ordeal of losing her. Now it seems so silly to think about doing an amateur hour at a high-class strip club, but I owe the shedding of my fear to Margot for her bravery. I’m steeling myself for doing it.
When we get to the backstage area of the club where the other girls are going to dance, I find that I’m not as afraid as I thought I was going to be. Margot and I are laughing and enjoying a little bit of champagne, and I feel plenty loosened up enough that I’m actually looking forward to getting up on the stage.
“Let’s do a song together,” I say to Margot. “If you want,” I say quickly, because I really don’t know what normal friends do together but I want to be able to have a good time with her and I like the idea of us both going up there together.
“Yeah, sure thing!” Margot says, obviously delighted by the idea, and I’m so relieved.
When the fast-paced eighties song starts up, we both turn to each other, smile, and slink out onto that stage.
The lights are really bright at first and I can’t see anyone, and I don’t actually want to see anyone in the audience right now. I know they are there, but it isn’t about that.
We take opposite sides of the stage and dance toward each other.
And I’m really enjoying the rush of moving my body with a freedom I didn’t know I could. I feel light as air, and everything seems almost natural to me. I had no idea that I could move the way I am. I can see in Margot’s eyes as we dance closer together, she’s surprised too.
When we dance across the stage to each other we both go back to back, dancing up and down in surprising synchronicity for two people making this up on the fly. “We are so doing this again!” she says where only I can hear.
“Totally!” I agree with her. I’m on top of the world with the level of exhilaration, and we both turn back and tear off our flimsy tops.
That’s when I get a good look at the audience, and I can’t believe how far my excitement drops.
The instant I see Gian, my heart plummets to my stomach and I yelp a little. But I keep dancing.
The man he’s with is dressed in leather and dark jeans. He looks strange next to Gian, who's always wearing an immaculate expensive suit. I can tell by Gian’s face that he’s not thrilled with what he’s seeing, which now that I’ve already thrown off my top, is actually quite a bit. I’m spilling out of this bra in a way that I thought I’d be nervous about. Now, the only thing making me nervous is that I’m so bare in front of so many people while Gian’s eyes are blazing with what I know is not happiness.
The man with him smacks him against the arm but Gian looks like if he was holding a glass, it would break in his hands. When the song ends, I go backstage and I’m not surprised when Gian is back there in a few seconds.
“What the hell are you doing? What are you wearing? Or not wearing,” he says, throwing my shirt at me.
I felt timid and upset before, my stomach uneasy, but when he tosses the shirt, I feel something else entirely.
“I was having a good time with a friend, wearing things that you actually bought me or had Margot buy me. I thought I was a free woman and you didn’t own me? I didn’t even leave your palace, your highness, so what’s the problem?” I'm shocked by my own words, but I mean them.