I chuckle. “That’s one swear word and one thank you. I’m keeping a list.”
She pulls back and meets my gaze. “What were the repercussions when Collette said bad words?”
I hesitate. She’s not ready for this. I’ve gotten away with introducing her to a lot of things in the last twenty-four hours, but that’s going too far.
She squeezes my neck. “Tell me.”
I shake my head. “Let’s talk about something else. Tell me why you chose pink bedding when nothing in your apartment is pink. Do you even like the color?”
She sighs, frustrated that I’ve dodged her question. “Yes.” She glances at her hand, her fingers playing with the neckline of my T-shirt absently. I love the feel of her hands on my neck. The only thing that would make this perfect would be if she was straddling me.
“Explain.” I give her a little bounce.
“It’s kind of like the dresses, I guess. I never had many clothes growing up. Nothing of my own. When I got moved to a different foster home, I rarely took anything with me except Bunny. I never left her behind.” She meets my gaze and must see something that allows her to continue. “When I spent half of first grade going to school with my hair cut to my scalp, I learned something. People stopped noticing me. They made fun of me for a while, but when I ignored them, they gave up. I started my tomboy phase. I realized if I wore pants and plain shirts, people were less likely to look at me. I stopped wearing anything girly. No dresses. Nothing pink or purple or pastel.”
My chest is tight again, but I sit very still.
She licks her lips and continues. “I couldn’t bring myself to cut my hair again. I break out in a cold sweat even seeing a pair of scissors. But I just hid behind it or put it in a ponytail. I never wore makeup until I started at the club and I don’t own revealing clothes.”
I grip her back with my fingers.
She looks at me again. “I bet you’re wondering how I could possibly have been a stripper.”
I nod. “A little. It’s impressive.” It also hurts my soul to picture her. I can, however, visualize more than she knows because her damn boss gave me several photos in that file. It’s at the office. I didn’t risk bringing it home, nor did I spend much time looking at this sweet girl’s naked body.
She shrugs. “I disassociated. I had no choice. It pays well.”
“How did you get the job in the first place?”
“I met one of the women at the thrift store one day a year ago. She gushed over me. Usually, that stresses me out, but this time it wasn’t a man. Women don’t bother me as much unless their jealousy comes through.”
I smile. Makes sense.
“Anyway, her name is Licorice.” She giggles. “Her stage name anyway. She told me with my looks I could be making a ton of money. She’s the one who arranged for me to meet my boss. I was scared out of my mind at first, but Mr. Lazinski was so nice. He let me start slow. The other women taught me to dance. They said I was a natural. I assume I’m good enough because the customers always whistle at me.”
The flush on her cheeks would be adorable if the subject matter weren’t making me want to punch someone. Lazinski to start with.
“You really want to hear all this?”
“Yes, sweetie. I want to know everything about what makes you tick. It’s interesting. Really.”
“Okay, then.” She draws in another breath. “Anyway, I disassociated. It’s like I became two people. The Britney who isn’t at work is still quiet and shy and reserved and hiding from attention. When I get to the club, I change into my costumes and pretend I’m another woman. I even wear makeup and heels. I do it because it pays the bills. Over time, my boss has encouraged me to come out of my shell. At first, I couldn’t imagine why he kept me on since I wasn’t willing to get completely naked, but eventually, I realized some men found that attractive too. Innocence or something. The forbidden.”
“I understand. I’m sure a lot of women separate themselves from the job.”
She shrugs. “It pays the rent, but I’m betting it backfired on me. My innocent routine, I mean.” She bites her lip.