Page 8 of Dust to Dust

“You’ve been obsessively stroking that water bottle for like a minute.”

Busted. My finger froze before I hustled over to the table to drop off my distraction. With my back turned, I could still feel Brooke’s gaze on me. Forcing a smile to my face, I whirled around.

“Isn't it weird how types of water taste different? Like water is water. The taste should be universal. Well, unless it’s like the difference between cold and hot. Not to mention ice water and tap water.”

Brooke quirked her brows at me as she adjusted her nursing bra. “You’re nervous.”

“Am I?”

“You always ramble like crazy when you are.”

A ragged sigh rumbled through me. “I need to ask a favor.”

“You got all worked up for that?”

“Maybe.”

With a laugh, Brooke replied, “I’ll do it.”

I cocked my brows at her. “But you don’t even know what it is.”

She grinned. “As much as you help with Henry, I’d have to be a selfish bitch not to do a favor for you.”

Flopping down beside her on the couch, I protested, “Anything to do with Little Man is a pleasure.”

After shifting Henry to her shoulder to burp him, Brooke asked, “What is it that you need?”

“I need my hair and makeup done. Like really glam it up.”

While she was sporty, Brooke had always been addicted to following trending makeup and hair styles. She was going to college to get a business degree to run her own salon one day.

“Of course.” Furrowing her brows at me, she asked, “But why do you need to be glam for a Tuesday afternoon?”

Although I knew the time would come where I had to tell Brooke my intentions, I still wasn’t ready. Shrugging my shoulder apathetically, I replied, “Just an audition.”

“What kind of audition?”

“Dance,” I answered truthfully.

Brooke narrowed her dark eyes on me. “What aren’t you telling me?”

Unable to look at her, I rose off the couch. As I wrung my hands, I fought to find the words. “I haven’t told you where the audition is because I know you’re not going to like it.”

“Spit it out, Isla.”

“Tomorrow I have an audition at Alainn.”

Brooke’s eyes bulged. “Alainn? But that’s a…”

“I’m aware of what it is.”

“Please tell me it’s for a waitressing job.” When I didn’t respond, Brooke gasped. “Isla you can’t audition for a stripper!”

“They’re called dancers there.”

“Fuck the semantics, Isla! You’re talking about flashing your tits and grinding on strange men’s dicks.”

Although I shuddered at both her words and the thought of actually doing it, a mirthless laugh escaped my lips. “I’m aware of what the job entails.” Drawing my shoulders back, I countered, “And Alainn isn’t a seedy club. They have millionaires and billionaires as clients. It’s very competitive to get a job there. I’m lucky I even got an audition.”

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