Page 4 of Deliah
Archie looked up, blinked once, and then burst out laughing. “You? A stripper?”
I mean… fair. He only ever saw me looking half-dead, inhaling hash browns like they were oxygen.
Aneeka choked on her orange juice. “You’re not serious.”
I shrugged. “Why not?”
Archie leaned on the bar, looking me up and down with a smirk. “You need to be fit to be a stripper, Deliah.”
Cheeky fucker. I threw a napkin at him. “Watch it, or I’ll show you fit.”
He grinned, clearly enjoying himself. “Come back tonight. Dressed up. We’ll have a chat.”
And that was that. No CV. No interview. Just blind panic and a half-eaten sausage.
As soon as we left, Aneeka started. “You’re seriously going to strip?”
“I don’t know,” I muttered. “I just… I need the money.”
“It’s stripping, Deliah. STRIPPING. You flash your fanny and hope for fifties.”
I snorted. “Sounds better than scraping two-euro tips and dying of heatstroke in that bloody bar.”
She crossed her arms. “What’s your mum going to say?”
“She won’t.”
“And if someone from home finds out?”
I paused. Then looked her dead in the eye. “Aneeka, I actually couldn’t give a fuck.”
She didn’t reply. Just sighed and pulled out a cigarette. Lit it like she was mourning the death of my innocence.
That night, we got ready like we were off to seduce the whole island. Heels, lashes, skirts that were belts. Aneeka still refused to strip, but she came with me anyway—for moral support, she said. But probably because she didn’t want me alone with Archie’s leery smirk and the insanity I was about to step into. Walking back into the café that night felt like walking onto a movie set. It looked different in the dark. More neon. More dangerous. Like something might happen. Something big. Archie looked up from behind the bar and gave a slow whistle. “Fuck me. You scrub up well.”
“Cheeky twat,” I muttered, smoothing down my skirt. He leaned forward. “So you both want to be strippers?”
Aneeka laughed. “Not me. Just her. I’ll do the bar if you’ve got anything going.”
Archie stroked his chin, pretending to think it over like he was casting a porn film. “All right,” he said eventually. “You.” He pointed at me. “Monday night. Trial shift. Let’s see if you’ve gotthe bottle for it. And you.” He turned to Aneeka. “You can pour pints and look pretty. Just don’t fuck up the tills.”
And just like that, it began. My new job. My new identity. My new fucking life. I didn’t know it then, standing there in knock-off heels and a borrowed push-up bra, but that moment—hungover, desperate, furious about a stolen iPad—would be the start of everything. Not just a job. Not just cash. It would change who I was. Forever.
Chapter 3 –
Stage Left
That night, I was absolutely bricking it. I mean, I’m confident. I’ve always been confident. But this was different. This wasn’t flirting across a bar or teasing a tourist into buying me a drink—this was standing under lights, nearly naked, in front of strangers who were literally paying to stare at me. A whole new level.
We’d spent the day in the city, shopping for stripper gear like two girls on a mission from God. First stop: bras and thongs. Racks of delicate lace, bold colours, everything from barely-there nudes to fire-engine reds. I picked out a black lace set with silver thread that shimmered in the light—something sexy but still me. Aneeka, meanwhile, was holding up a hot pink push-up bra and making jokes about needing scaffolding to keep her tits in.
“Do you reckon this’ll get me a bar job?” she said, winking. “Or a date with a sugar daddy?”
“Both.” I laughed, snatching it from her hands. “But I’m wearing this one if you don’t buy it.”
Next stop was shoes. And not just any shoes—stripper shoes. The ones that could break your ankle if you looked at them wrong. Rows and rows of clear heels, glittery platforms, thigh-high boots. My eyes landed on a pair of shiny, black faux leather boots that came right up to my thighs. I slipped them on and strutted across the shop floor like I owned the place.
“Oh my god,” Aneeka said. “You look like Catwoman if she worked weekends at Spearmint Rhino.”
