“You’ve seen her? How are they?”
“Dana won’t call you back either, huh?”
My father shook his head sadly.
“I really fucked things up, son. I only hope you don’t make the same mistakes I did.”
“What mistakes?” I asked, hardly believing the old man would ever admit he’d done something wrong.
“Not grieving your mother properly. Trying to replace her because it hurt too much to be alone. Marrying Claire. But most of all, not being there for my son.”
Holy shit, I thought as a wall inside me started to crumble. He isn’t a total piece of shit, after all.
He looked at me, raw emotion on his face.
“Love is the only thing that matters. If you love her, make sure you don’t let her get away.”
I held up my hands.
“Actually, I think it may be too late for that. Nevada told me to go to hell more or less.”
“But you know where they are?”
I nodded.
He slapped the back of his chair.
“Okay. As soon as they let you out of here, let’s go get them.”
“Together?”
I held out my hand. My father looked at it, recognizing it for what it was: a peace offering. His face broke into a wide smile as he gripped my hand and squeezed.
“Together.”
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Nevada
I hoisted the tray over my head, weaving my way through the low tables. All the seats here were in sunken pits. The men sat there and watched us parade around them.
I guess the view was better from that angle or something.
Or it kept them in their place. It didn’t stop the clientele from acting like pigs though.
I fought back a wave of disgust as someone tried to stuff a twenty dollar tip down my cleavage.
“Why don’t you get up there, honey? You’d be great.”
I just smiled blankly and thought about how that money could go towards furniture for our new apartment. Or community college. Grin and bear it. That was my only choice.
I was the one who had taken a job in a strip club after all.
What the hell was I expecting?
This was the best I could do. Maybe for the rest of my life. If I couldn’t finish school, what better did I have to hope for?
No. I was going to beat this. And I was going to save enough to do community college at the very least. I might have to start in the middle of the year but so be it. I would go and I would finish.
Someday.
I just hoped I could keep it together the next time one of these creeps tried to touch me.
So far, I’d only been here a few days and I’d already had to stop myself from slugging at least ten guys.
At least the tips were good. And they hadn’t asked for a resume. After pounding the pavement for almost a week I’d finally walked in the door of Sheila’s Palace. The name was awful but the decor was actually kind of nice. Retro funky, with old orange vinyl booths and cool looking light fixtures. Not that you could see it during open hours.
Of course, the stage was well lit. And the bar. Even the cocktail waitresses got some sort of lighting angled at us from above. But the clientele? Almost invisible.
Shelia had taken one look at me and hired me on the spot. She told me right off the bat that my pay was two dollars an hour plus tips. I’d almost walked out.
And then she’d told me what kind of tips I could expect. Basically, I’d make in a night what it took me two weeks to make at the club. Not enough to pay my tuition at private college but maybe enough to go to a local school. Get a few credits in the fall.
It was better than nothing.
A lot better than nothing.
Minus the creeps, of course.
And I didn’t have to do anything untoward. Or flirt even. In fact, Sheila had warned me against it. Not because it was bad for business. Just because it would piss the other girls off.
They were more important than I was.
Because I had told her I would be keeping my clothes on.
I sighed and went into the back to take a quick break. Anything to just not be stared at for five minutes. It was weird, how tiring it was to feel eyeballs on you all the time.
Especially since they were almost all old enough to be my dad.
Hell, my dad could actually be out there for all I knew.
I sure as shit wouldn’t recognize him.
I cringed at the bitterness in my thoughts. I was already turning into one of these women. Flat eyed and tired. Cynical.
I stood in the hallway with my eyes closed.
“It gets easier.”
I opened my eyes and one of the older girls was standing there. Barbara I think. But on stage, she was Bambi. It was ridiculous. Sad. Pathetic.