Total pages in book: 47
Estimated words: 43837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 43837 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 219(@200wpm)___ 175(@250wpm)___ 146(@300wpm)
I let out a sigh as I snatch one of Chrissy’s make-up wipes. I know that I’m rubbing harder than I need to, but I feel as if I’m dirty as I scrub at the glitter on my skin.
“Whoa, easy there, Kat,” Chrissy calls out as she moves to sit beside me at her table, taking the wipe from me gently. “You’re going to scrub a hole in your skin.”
Good, I think as the familiar knot forms in my belly. So much on my shoulders.
“Tomorrow’s your day off, right, kid?” Chrissy asks as she opens the rubbing alcohol bottle, squirting a little bit on the make-up wipe.
She takes my arm in her thin hand and starts gently rubbing the wipe across the glitter that is still stuck there on my skin. The flakes begin to fall away as she does.
“Yeah,” I tell her, nodding. “Stevie’s birthday is coming up, though, you know.”
“Oh, how old is our little guy?” Chrissy asks as she determinedly works her magic.
“He’s going to be ten years old this year,” I tell her, hearing the fondness in my own voice. “I can’t even believe it. It seems like he was so young a year ago.”
“Well, I’m sure all the guys and girls will want to pitch in to get him something,” Chrissy answers. She stands up straight, smoothing down her brassy, short hair.
“Chrissy…,” I begin, shaking my head. I know what she’s getting at quickly enough.
“I’m not saying we’re going to buy his birthday gift for him,” Chrissy corrects me before I can even start. “He’s your brother, kitty kat. We love the little guy. It would be nice to get him something to show our love this year, right?”
I sigh, slumping in Chrissy’s chair as she stands behind me in the mirror. “Maybe we could give him a small party or something. But, not here,” I quickly add, not putting it past Chrissy to try and host a kid’s birthday party in a strip club.
“I was going to suggest some other place like the park since we know that Stevie likes the outdoors so much,” Chrissy states in a matter-of-fact tone. “But if you want your ten-year-old brother partying in a den of sin, then, by all means, feel free to do so,” she stated in a playful tone, discarding the wipe covered in glitter.
“Thanks, Chrissy,” I reply, feeling relief flood me at her support. I reach a hand up that still shimmers faintly with glitter to squeeze the thin-fingered hand on my shoulder. “I have no idea what I would do without you.”
“Crash and burn, kitty kat,” Chrissy answers with a slightly crooked smile as she turns to her own mirror to touch up her make-up.
“I guess so,” I tell her with a sigh, smiling ruefully at her in the mirror.
I stand up, letting out a long breath as I make my way out of the room.
“Oh! And Kathleen,” she calls to my retreating form as she applies more eyeliner. “Myers says that you need to start telling him when a patron grabs your ass,” she says, looking at me in the mirror. “My man can spot an unwelcome grab when it happens. He can’t kick those people out when you don’t tell him about it.”
Randall Myers is a beefy, good-hearted bouncer that Chrissy is dating.
I sigh, nodding. “He’s not going to make me give back the fifty, is he? I have it.”
“Keep it, baby doll,” Chrissy replies, winking. “As an annoyance fee.”
I shake my head, letting out a snort as I head to the locker room for my things.
Tomorrow is my day off from the club, but I plan on working at the diner down the street, and I can’t afford not to show up again. I usually work early on weekdays, and I bring Stevie into the diner with me. He gets to eat with my free meal for the day, and then I use the ten-minute smoke break to get Stevie to the bus stop for school on time.
Mrs. Maxine is the retired woman who lives across the hallway from my brother and me. She’s a sweet, older woman who took a liking to my brother immediately, telling me that she had a grandson about his age that she didn’t get to see very much since her son moved out of town.
It reminded me of my dad when he left us with our sick mom. Mrs. Maxine watches Stevie whenever I’m working at the club. She thinks that I’m doing professional ballet dancing at different venues and working as a waitress, and I haven’t had the heart to tell her about the strip club.
Unlike downtown’s exciting, urban atmosphere, the West End of Atlanta is an unforgiving place. I could remember living there for a while before my mom got sick and my dad left us destitute. Now, I never walk down the street to the bus at night without a hand clutched around my little cartridge of mace.