Page 42 of Delivered in White

“I think I’ll wait a few rounds to scope out the scene.”

Trying to remain confident is proving tough. They can smell it like lionesses smell a fawn.

“Nonsense,” the other brunette says. “It’s a rite of passage to be in the starlight first thing. Good for the nerves too.”

Thanks, coach.

Britta tilts her head at me with a fake smile, judging me hard.

“Now, now ladies. Be nice to our newest guest. Lookin’ at you, Ruby. If she doesn’t want to go up on stage yet—”

The song changes to something poppy I hardly know, and all the girls on the far side of the bar start cheering. The men surrounding them seem to enjoy their energy too.

Ugh, this is going to be a long night.

Maybe Ruby’s right, breaking the ice will help settle these nerves. I mean, what’s the worst that could happen? I fall on my face and Trino turns me into an escort at his other job?

That’s pretty bad, actually.

My finger twitches. I’d do anything to bite my manicured nail right off right now.

Screw it.

“Alright, I’ll take your spot,” I say.

The slight shock on their faces isnotworth it, because my throat runs dry with fear.

Where is Ruby going? She struts toward a podium where an elder man sits guarding the private rooms, and whispers something in his ear.

“So, how long have you been dancing here, Diamond? Britta?”

“I’m a veteran. Three years.” Diamond holds up long-nailed fingers and does a quick single-ladies dance.

“Two divine years. We’re a sisterhood,” Britta says, her voice like airy silk.

“Gentlemen of east Jersey, get ready for our first ladies of the night. Give a very starry welcome to Arora, Nina, and… our newestsexygirl-next-door dancer—Misty!”

My neck muscles tense. Actually, my whole body is seizing right now. Out of my periphery, I glance two dolled up Russian-looking women strutting around the bar, to a cut out that they duck under.

Britta raises her eyebrows at me.“Looks like you’re up.”

Chapter 13

Cipriana

I tentatively follow the two other dancers to the nook by the bar, feeling Britta’s eyes glued to my back. What in the hell am I even going to do up there? Staring at the stage scares the shit out of me.

Thinking back to a vacation in Saint Lucia when I was in college, some of my girlfriends and I took a pole dancing class for all of forty-five minutes. That’s about the extent of my training. We laughed and goofed off, because, like, who would ever think a bunch of law students would need to take it seriously?

Well, here I am.

If Jacky saw me now…

I duck under the bar into the nook, feeling like I’m crossing the closet threshold in Narnia to some sexualized sleezy world where men throw paper at ladies’ goods. What else can I do but follow suit in removing my see-through covering in a provocative way, following the lead of the other two girls?

“Hi, Misty. I’m Nina.” She gives me a tiny pat on the backside.

“Oh, is that how we greet? Hi, Nina.” I pat her right back, and she giggles at me. Her cosmetic work would be distracting in sunlight, I think. Exaggerated duck lips and balloon-like breasts float her up the stairs to the stage, while I trail behind.

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