My heart is pounding against my chest as I slowly nod. “Yeah.”
“Yeah, so I’m gonna go. I’m going to nap before heading to the rink,” he says, leaning over to kiss my mouth in a lusty but quick way. He reaches for the door handle and is about to step out, and I know I should let him go, but his words play over and over in my head.
Just be truthful. Just be truthful. Just be truthful.
“Hey Jude,” I say suddenly. He looks over at me with a grin on his face.
“Don’t be afraid?” he asks and I smile.
“Yeah, but I want to tell you something.”
“What?”
I take in a deep breath and say, “Have you heard of that burlesque club, Ms. Prissy’s?”
He nods. “Yeah, I’ve been there a few times with the guys. Not since I started dating you, though!” he adds and I smile.
“You’re silly,” I say, looking for the courage to say what I need to say. “Anyway, I…I…um… well, you see–”
“What? Why are you stuttering?”
I laugh, letting out a long breath, my heart pounding against my chest. “I work for her,” I say and then meet his inquisitive gaze. “I choreograph the dances for the burlesque side and even the pole dancing. I’m doing like six numbers for some investors that are coming, and I’m hoping to land them.”
“That’s awesome, babe. I told you you’re the best,” he says with a grin. “Is that why you asked if I would support you in any job you chose?”
I nod. “Yeah, it’s not the best kind of job, you know.”
“How do you figure? You could choreograph, like, shows and stuff. That’s amazing,” he says, and it’s what I want to hear. I want him to be supportive.
“Yeah, I could be picked up to run clubs and stuff. It’s a huge opportunity.”
He smiles. “That’s wonderful, baby. I’m proud of you.”
“So you’ll support me?”
He laughs as he reaches for me, pulling me close. “Of course. It isn’t like you’re on the stage taking your clothes off, so no big deal. I’m excited for you. Make sure you let me know how that goes.”
He kisses me again and then he’s gone as I sit in my seat, completely stunned. The tears threaten to fall, and my heart feels like it’s about to explode. I was truthful, but the only problem is I only told half the truth.
It isn’t like you’re on the stage taking your clothes off, so no big deal.
No big deal, but if I was, it would be a huge deal and probably would be the end of my relationship. I need to quit, I need to stop, but can I lose that money? Can I really let go of the opportunity of thousands to secure my future? I know the answer is no, but can I risk losing him?
No. I can’t.
So what the fuck do I do?
There is really only one answer and that’s to work my ass off, get the money, and then quit and never look back. I’m not completely lying to Jude anymore. I told him most of the truth; I just left out the part about me on the stage. What he doesn’t know won’t hurt him, and it’s only for another month and then I’ll be done. That can’t be that bad…right?
But if so, then why does it feel like it is?
Standing in the dressing room outside of the rink, I hop on my tippy toes, warming my legs up. Pulling at the bottom of my uniform, I curse the dance gods above for the monstrosity I’m wearing. I mean, I guess it’s sort of cute, but with an ass like mine, it’s falling out the bottom. Even with my tights on, I feel like the bottoms are creeping up my ass, giving me the ultimate wedgie. I don’t know if Rachael ordered me a smaller size – which I wouldn’t put past her – or what, but if it actually fit, it would be cute. It’s a one-piece shorts set that is solid black except for the sheer black lace that goes over a teal blue bra. Crystals stud every inch of it, and on the back are our names in crystals along with Bellevue Bullies.
Looking the mirror, I’m pleased with what I see. My hair is up in a high ponytail with a black and teal bow at the base. My makeup is done very dramatically, bright teal and a smoky black covering my eyes, making them seem bigger and brighter. Rachael may be a bitch, but the girl has some great skills at applying makeup. Pulling at my shorts, I turn and look around the room. All of us look so good, and I’m really excited for this performance. We have been training for weeks, and I’m ready for my family and the arena to see us kill the choreography I put together for us.
“All right, come together,” I hear Rachael say.
I look around the room to find Skylar standing beside me. She grins at me and I return the grin before together we go to the circle, holding hands with our teammates. Rachael bows her head and we all do the same as she prays for a good performance and for each of us to be strong and safe throughout the performance. She then thanks the Lord above for all of us, and I have to admit it’s nice. I like seeing this side of her; it makes her less of a raging bitch.