Stripped - By Brenda Rothert Page 0,61
to you in five years and said she wanted to strip?”
“That’s not the same thing! Yes, I know the club is a seedy place where trashy men come to fantasize, but that doesn’t mean I’m seedy and trashy,” Abby said.
“Okay,” Charlotte said, raising a hand to mediate. “I want you to do something for me, Abby. The next time you work at the club, I want you to think about how you’re feeling. There’s no right or wrong answer. Just think about how working there makes you feel.”
“Okay.”
“Guys, these are difficult issues,” Charlotte said. “You made progress today. Chris, you took a big step toward Abby by trusting her with what happened to you. Try not to judge her. You’re here to support each other.”
Abby reached her arms around Chris’ neck, hugging him tightly.
“Thanks for telling me,” she said. His warm arms wrapped around her back.
“Thanks for making me want to.”
The beat of the club’s music pounded in her ears, and Abby wished for a moment of peace. She was tired, and she still had a long night ahead of her.
The hard smack of a hand against her ass made her spin around angrily. A table of men laughed, all feigning looks of innocence.
“Who did that?” she demanded.
“Relax,” a 20-something man at the table said.
“There’s no touching here, and whoever did that is getting thrown out!” she yelled, anger rising within her.
“Sorry,” another man said. “Really. How much?” He pulled out his wallet.
“How much for what?”
“For, you know, the slap. How much?”
“That’s not for sale here.”
“Everything’s for sale here. It’s a strip club. How much to make you happy?”
“Touching my body is not for sale.”
“But you’ll grind me until I come. That’s touching,” the man said, raising his eyebrows with amusement.
Abby sniffed, wanting to tell him that she chose that kind of contact, but it sounded so crazy as she thought it that she couldn’t bring herself to say it.
“Come on. Hop on,” the man said, leering as he patted his lap.
“No.” Abby felt satisfaction as his dark eyes narrowed when she refused him.
“Come on. Your ass is all red now, and it’s making me hot. Get up here. I’ll pay double.”
“No.” She turned to leave, stopping as she felt another smack on her ass. All the men at the table were doubled over with laughter, and Abby was seething.
“Mickey!” she yelled, waving him over. He hustled over with a phony grin.
“What, sweetheart?”
“This guy smacked my ass twice. I want him thrown out.”
“I’m sure he didn’t mean anything by it, did you?” Mickey looked congenially at the dark-haired man.
“Not at all. What I want is a lap dance. Here’s my money.” He waved a bill in front of Abby and she shook her head with disgust.
“Go on,” Mickey said, nodding toward the table of men.
“No. I want him thrown out.” She looked steadfastly at him, and Mickey rolled his eyes.
“Come on, Nik. We can’t throw out every guy who gets too friendly. Keep the peace,” he said.
“You won’t throw him out?”
“No.”
“Then I quit!” She turned to leave, with Mickey gaping after her.
As she sorted through Sara and Audrey’s backpacks, Abby frowned when she pulled out a math test that Audrey had gotten a D on.
“Aud!” she called down to the basement. Audrey pounded up the stairs with an expectant look. “What happened here?” Abby asked as she held up the paper.
“It’s really hard. I don’t understand it,” Audrey said, looking away.
“I can help you study, you just have to let me know, okay? Justin can, too. When is the next test?”
“We have one every Friday.”
“Well, it’s only Tuesday, so that gives us plenty of time to study. Just let me get dinner in the oven and we’ll get started while it cooks.”
“I need lunch money,” Audrey said as she looked through her backpack for her math book.
“There’s money in my wallet, just take what you need,” Abby said absently. Audrey walked over and pulled the leather wallet from Abby’s purse.
“There’s no money here,” she said. Abby looked up sharply.
“Yes, there is. There’s a lot of money there,” she said, walking over. Audrey handed over the wallet and Abby stared at the empty compartment where she stored folded bills.
“There was more than $300 in here,” she said, grabbing her purse and searching through it frantically.
“It was in my desk drawer all day at work,” she mumbled to herself.
“I have money I can use for lunch,” Audrey offered.
“Oh, sweetie, no, I’ll get more money from the bank. I just wish I knew