Total pages in book: 31
Estimated words: 29205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 29205 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 146(@200wpm)___ 117(@250wpm)___ 97(@300wpm)
I sit down next to her, strapping on mile-high back heels and pulling out my make-up bag. “This is all going to take some getting used to.”
“You can say that again. Working at night’s going to be so different. But, Libby,” she says, “we have jobs dancing. Dancing.”
A grin spreads across my face. “It’s amazing.”
Cosette draws liner across her lid in a dramatic cat-eye. She’s dressed in a black catsuit with a plunging neckline. She takes in my outfit. “What look are you going for tonight?”
I start to dab some orange color across my eyelids. “Mod disco.”
She laughs. “Sounds perfect.” Again, her laugh is loud.
She looks at me, and I startle, because her pupils are huge. Dread sinks in my stomach. I grab her hand before she can do her other eye. “Cosette,” I whisper, “Are you high?”
“As a kite, baby! Nothing feels like this. They have really good shit here.”
My mouth drops open a little, “I don’t understand.” It’s been a long time since Cosette has done any drugs, but it’s never a good sign. Whenever she gets high is a time I have to worry, because high Cosette doesn’t make smart choices. And I can’t lose her. I don’t think I’d survive it if something happened to her. Plus, it’s our first day? “Why today?”
She rolls here eyes. “Lighten up, Libby.” She elongates my name, drawing it out. “I’m just having a little fun. That’s what this job is right? Fun?”
“Cosette—”
“You’re too much of a goody-two-shoes, Lib. You need to relax.”
“I’m just concerned.”
“Yeah, well don’t be. I can take care of myself.” She snatches her make-up kit off the bench and goes back to her own locker. Shit. Did something happen? I always find out later why Cosette gets high or drunk and wish I could have seen it coming. This is the same. I have no idea what set her off, and I honestly don’t have time to worry about it, but I know that I will all night. Hopefully later, when she’s sober, I can ask her again.
My make-up is almost done when Randall strides into the dressing room. I do a double-take. Is he supposed to just come in here like that? When people could be getting dressed? I glance around, and I see that everyone is decent. But still, it seems weird. “New dancers, with me.”
I shove my make-up bag in my locker and close it quickly before following him, Cosette, and two other girls out into the club. The fluorescent lights are gone and replaced with the dramatic, flashing colors from the night before. The club is still pretty empty, but there are a few guests arriving. No one is dancing yet, even though the DJ has already taken her place and the music has started to pound.
Randall stops by one of the cages that’s on the floor by the edge of the dance floor. “Okay, so the main thing I need to tell you guys about is our tipping system.” He points to a screen that’s attached to the top of the cage, easily visible. It says the number of the cage. “We’ve got an app, and if somebody likes what you’re doing in the cage, they can tip you. Anything above $50, your cage gets spotlights, and the bars glow. I’m sure you’ll see soon enough. Rack up enough tips, and you’ll get confetti from the ceiling. Don’t hold your breath on that though, it takes a lot to get there and even with our high rollers, it rarely happens. Any questions.”
I don’t have any, it seems pretty straightforward.
“Good. You’ll have a break half-way through your shift. I’ll send a waitress to tell you when.” He points to one of the other new girls. “In you go.” He helps her into the cage. The other stranger goes into another cage on the floor. Some of the cages are already taken with girls dancing. It makes sense. You need the mood to be in place when the customers come in. But for Cosette and me, he doesn’t give us a cage on the floor. Instead he walks us to the middle of the dance floor where several cages hang above just above the heads of the crowd. If someone jumped they might be able to touch the bottom. A couple of them are already taken, but Randall has a remote in his hand, and two of them lower to the floor. He gives a mocking bow to us. “Your chariots, girls.”
I look at Cosette and grin, pretending that I’ve forgotten our exchange in the locker room. “Ready to make some money?”
“You know it.” She gives me a high five before climbing into her cage.
Our screens are at the bottom of the cage. I can see Cosette’s, and she can see mine, and I notice there’s a tiny screen inside the cage that lets us know how much the current tip is, plus our total. My stomach lurches a little as the cage is lifted off the floor. I’ve never danced in anything suspended like this. It’s going to take me some time to get used to the way it swings with my movements, to trust that it’s not going to fall and that I’ll be able to dance without being afraid. I look over and I see the same look on my friend’s face: nervous anticipation. The cages lock into place, and for a second, I stand there. I’m really doing this. I’m dancing in a cage. At a sex club. What the hell am I doing?