Stripped - By Brenda Rothert Page 0,37

is not appropriate for the kids,” Abby said, striding toward the television.

“They’re my kids, not yours,” Kathy said sharply.

“Well, I’m the one who has to get up with them at night when they have nightmares from this stuff.”

“What crawled up your ass and died? Did Dr. Wonderful cut the night short?”

Abby felt contempt for her mother rising inside her. She wished desperately for a mother she could come home and talk to, really talk to, and get sympathy and kindness from. She’d never have it. But she refused to give Kathy the satisfaction of knowing she’d had a bad night.

“No, Chris got called in to work,” she lied. “Audrey, Sara, come on, it’s bath time.”

The glare of the stage lights blurred the many faces in the crowd into an unrecognizable swirl. The club was busier than usual for a Thursday night.

Abby’s mind was still on a conversation she’d had with Audrey before work. Audrey had spent the night at her friend Katie’s house a couple of times, and Abby had suggested they host Katie this weekend. Audrey had been standoffish about it before admitting she was worried about what their Mom might say or do in front of her friend.

Abby’s heart had broken for Audrey. She was right. Abby had never even considered having a friend over when she was growing up. Going to other girls’ houses had usually just made her wistful for a normal home life.

Between that conversation and the glumness she’d felt since the fight with Chris, Abby was down. Dancing on the stage when she felt this way was easy because she could stay in her own world, but lap dances were tougher. She had to maintain eye contact and feign interest then.

As she left the stage after her dance, she considered just hanging out backstage instead of doing lap dances. But she knew Mickey would chase her out to the floor if she did, so she made her way to a man who signaled her.

He was old, she realized as she took his money. Probably close to 80. She hoped the dance wouldn’t give him a heart attack or anything. He kept his hands to himself, but Abby was still disgusted by simulating desire for someone elderly. She was glad when the dance was over.

Her next customer was the polar opposite. He was in his early 20’s, and he was all hands. Though she knew some men wouldn’t listen no matter how many times she told them not to touch, Abby wasn’t in the mood, and she grimaced as she felt his hands creeping up her stomach. As soon as she heard the last beat of the song, she jumped up to leave.

“Hey,” Sam said as she sailed by. “Your Greek God’s here.”

“What?” Abby stared at her in disbelief.

“Probably here to see you. He’s in the back corner.”

Abby blew past the customer gesturing to her, nearly running to get back to the corner. Sam had to be mistaken. Chris wouldn’t come here.

But there he was. He was alone, with three empty beer bottles on his table. She couldn’t read his expression as their eyes met. It was serious and intense. Had he come to talk to her?

“What are you doing here?” she demanded.

“Watching you.”

“How dare you come here to spy on me! Have you done this before?”

“I’m not spying, Abby. Why do you mind me seeing what every other man in the world can?”

“First of all, do not use my name here --”

“Oh, is that the one thing I get to myself? That none of these assholes know your name?”

She sighed, looking away. Chris leaned toward her as he spoke, and she realized how angry he was.

“Do you know what it feels like to watch you rubbing all over other men? To see them touching you everywhere?”

“This is my job. You’ve known from the beginning.”Abby crossed her arms over her chest self-consciously.

“Fine.” Chris sat back, his eyes still alight with anger. He looked past her, gesturing, and Abby stared, open-mouthed, as Roxy approached. Chris’ eyes were still locked on Abby as he held a folded bill out to Roxy.

“Um…” Roxy looked uncomfortably at Abby.

“Go ahead,” Abby said, quavering inside.

“It’s the middle of the song,” Roxy told Chris. “Want to wait for the next one so you get a full dance?”

“No. Now.”

Abby kept her face impassive as the young dancer moved against Chris. She straddled his lap, pushing her breasts into his face. A sick feeling rose inside Abby as she watched. She was rattled by