Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 78255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78255 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 313(@250wpm)___ 261(@300wpm)
“And I’ve worked with an escort service.”
Both Rumor and I drop our mouths open. We’re not naive, we know sex sells, but I’ve never heard someone admit to being an escort.
“Five thousand to fuck someone, yeah I’m doing it. Besides, the men are usually rich, lonely and horny and need some arm candy for an event. And if you treat them right, they’re usually begging for the hookup.”
“I could never—”
“You could if you needed the money that bad.” Cora walks over to me and hands me a card. “This is the service I use. A plane ticket is under a hundred and there are motels that you can rent dirt cheap. Some of the clubs even have rooms they rent out.”
I take the card and look at the name. cline escorts. On the back is a list of clubs to dance at.
“Thanks.”
“Look, I know you have a kid, but think about it. One week and you could easily make a grand a night. You’re a good dancer.”
“Thanks,” I say again, turning back to my locker. I put the card away so I don’t lose it, although I don’t plan to go to Vegas. I can’t leave Morgan for that long.
By closing, I’m dead tired. My legs hurt, my feet ache and my back is sore. The tips I made tonight, a little over a hundred and fifty dollars in ones, are wrapped in a rubber band and tucked under my bra. If I get jacked on the way home, they’ll take my bag and make me empty my pockets, but there’s not enough time, typically, for an entire strip down—or at least that’s what I’m counting on.
As soon as I walk in the door, I can hear the television blaring and see my mom passed out cold with a couple of empty forties lying on the ground. I lock up, shut off the TV and leave her there. I don’t see the point in waking her. I unlock my bedroom door and find Morgan already fast asleep.
“Mommy,” she groggily calls out to me.
“I’m home.”
“I didn’t eat dinner.”
I close my eyes and scream inside my head. I left my mother money to make sure Morgan got something to eat.
“Okay, sweetie. Get dressed.”
She moves out of bed quickly while I call for a cab. Tonight’s tips will go on cab fare and an early morning breakfast at the local Denny’s. I’m a shoo-in for mother-of-the-fucking-year. It’s three in the morning, my ten-year-old has school in five hours and I have to be at work in four. Fuck my life.
Once we’re at the restaurant I order coffee and a side of pancakes. If I eat less, she can eat more and I can keep it under twenty with a tip. My girl orders the biggest breakfast on the menu and I know her eyes are bigger than her stomach, but it’s leftovers for her later, as long as my mother doesn’t eat them.
“Tonight when I’m at work, I want you to order pizza, okay? Eat a couple of slices and then put the rest in some tinfoil. Grandma won’t check. That way you can have food for a couple of days.” I fight back the tears as I tell her this. Her life shouldn’t be this fucking hard. There was a time when I was going to give her up, but I selfishly kept her because I wanted someone to love me. Every day I wonder what her life could be like if I had done the right thing. She deserves so much better.
“Okay.”
As I watch her eat in between yawns, I make up my mind. I’m going to Vegas. It’ll be one week and then I’ll be back. I can’t go on like this. We can’t. I need to ensure that Morgan has a better life and that means not living with my mother. And pole dancing at Lew’s XXX and waiting tables at Eddie’s is never going to make me enough money to get away.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Morgan as I leave the booth and head outside to use my phone. I call my best friend, Stephanie. She’s a bartender so I know she’s still awake.
“Hey, do you need a ride?”
“Nah, me and the miss are at Denny’s. When I got home, she hadn’t eaten.”
“Fucking seriously?”
“Yeah. My mom bought beer instead, but listen, I need a favor. Can Morgan stay with you for a week? I got a line on a gig in Vegas that pays pretty well and it could be enough to get us out of my mother’s. I’ll give you money for food and shit. I just . . . I can’t keep doing this to her. I’m afraid I’m going to lose her.” Every time Child Protective Services knocks on a neighbor’s door I wonder when it’ll be my turn. I know that’s me being paranoid and all because how would they know how much my life sucks? I try to keep Morgan away from the bad, but living with my mother is not healthy for either of us.