by Lexie Ray
That last part was unintentional. The costume was just that big.
“Excuse me, but we have some reports of slow foot traffic in this area due to an obstruction on the sidewalk — it’s you!”
I turned around to see the same cop from earlier staring at me, his jaw practically hitting the pavement.
“Why, hello, officer,” I said sweetly. “It’s so nice to see you again.”
“Are you blocking foot traffic?” he asked, still ogling me. “How are you even still standing in that costume? It’s 100 percent humidity out here.”
“The Corn Queen is impervious to the heat,” I said. “And people can’t help but to slow down and take a good gander at a sweaty girl in a corncob costume. I’m pretty popular.”
“Are you really that passionate about selling those corncobs on a stick?” the cop asked doubtfully. “Corn’s good, but I’m pretty sure it’s not worth all this.”
“The costume was my boss’ idea,” I said, dropping my Corn Queen façade. I was, quite honestly, exhausted. I’d been doing my best, but I didn’t know what the sales numbers were inside. I’d been kept too busy to chat with Jared about them. “I told him it would take a raise to put me in it, but he said if I could get corncobs on a stick to outsell Cheetos, I could have a raise and a bonus.”
“And you need the money really bad, I’m assuming,” the cop said, looking sympathetic.
I shrugged. “Not really. It’s more of a pride thing. Plus, I’m competitive.”
The cop surprised me by throwing his head back and laughing. “I like you,” he said. “I liked you from the moment I spotted you leading all those kids. Well, I was worried about you, first of all, because I thought something was wrong with you. But then I liked you.”
“Well, thanks,” I said. “The Corn Queen thanks you.”
“Let me see what I can do about this little competition,” the cop said, digging his cell phone out of his trousers as he walked inside the snack shop.
Within half an hour, practically the entire Miami Police Department had stopped by, all of them coming out with at least one corncob on a stick clutched in their fists.
“Reminds me of summer days at home,” one officer said, toasting me with his corncob that had been practically smothered in chili powder. It would be a miracle if he didn’t blow his face off with that kind of heat on his corn.
It was such a big deal that a local news outlet turned up to cover the story, and then we sold out of corn.
“Enough,” Jared begged me, charging out of the snack shop. “You’ve made your point. You can have a raise. I’ll cut you in on some of the profits from today. But enough. Everyone wants corncobs on a stick now and we don’t have any. I’m going to have to do a massive inventory order first thing tomorrow. You win, Jennet.”
“It’s Corn Queen to you, Jared,” I said, grinning, and that’s how my little local legend got started.
Some people just went to the snack shop to watch me heckle passersby, and would grab something — not always corn — before leaving. I never failed to make even the most focused commuters smile — be it from my corn jokes or my signature Corn Queen dance, which was little more than me wiggling around as best I could in the bulky costume. It was my bread and butter now, but it was no less awkward than the first day I’d put it on.
“What do corncobs call their daddies?” I’d holler at anyone passing by.
I’d give it a few long moments — just long enough for people to slow down a little and stare at me, then answer my own joke.
“Popcorn!” I’d yell, then bust up laughing, slapping my knee. “Aw, shucks. You have to admit that one’s good. Corncobs call their daddies popcorn! That’s your Corn Queen laugh of the day, folks!”
Life as the Corn Queen was pretty good, even up until now. Sure, I’d run out of corn-related jokes a long time ago, but I’d occasionally stumble across one that even Jared hadn’t heard before. Every so often, people who’d heard me do my shtick in the street would quietly submit a list of corn jokes they’d researched for me. I had a pretty sweet relationship with customers both regular and new, and I had a job where I could do practically whatever I wanted as long as it brought in revenue.
But even the Corn Queen could get a little down, even with my new magenta hair, when I thought too long about Nick and just how long it had been since he’d walked by in the streets by the snack shop just to say hi. Then the jokes fell a little flatter, my dance got a little sadder, and I wondered if I could ever do or say anything to repair what we’d both had a hand in breaking.
Chapter 4
The snack shop had been slow today, so Jared had cut me loose just after lunchtime. I had no idea why the good people of Miami had curbed their cravings for soft serve ice cream and spicy Doritos by midday, but we did have a pretty good morning. Nothing like chili cheese dogs for breakfast, I supposed.
I was lounging on the couch, watching trashy TV and wondering if maybe I should get the stinky corncob costume laundered — or if I should bully Jared into taking care of it — when a knock sounded at the door.
It’d been so long since someone knocked on the door that my adrenaline instantly surged. Friends didn’t knock on the door. Strangers did, or salespeople. Who in the world would be coming around calling at this hour of the day?
The knock sounded again, and I cautiously stood up from the couch. Who could be here? My insides cringed a little at the thought of Nick on the other side of the door. He was the last person I wanted to see right now. I just wasn’t ready to face him. Not after everything we’d said to each other.
“Knock, knock!”
I laughed in relief at Faith’s voice and threw open the door. I’d forgotten that it was Friday, and that she promised to come visit. That’s how much my schedule had been affected by not hanging out with Nick. All the days ran together.
“What took you so long?” she demanded, giving me a big hug.
“It’s so good to see you,” I said, squeezing her as hard as I could. “Seriously. So glad it’s you.”
“Who are you hiding from this time?” she asked, holding me at arm’s length and frowning.
“I’m sure you can guess,” I said, giving a meaningful nod across the hall before shutting the door. Nick had been playing guitar nonstop since I’d told him I wouldn’t date him. I was sure he was composing some evil revenge songs about terrible girls who never gave the nice guy a chance. Their titles would be along the lines of “Eternal Friend Zone” and “You’ll Never Meet My Mom.”
“Seriously?” Faith crossed her arms as we both plopped down on the couch. “I hate it that you two are weird right now.”
“I hate it, too, honestly,” I admitted. “It’s so stupid. We’re neighbors and I have like a second job trying to avoid him.”
“Well, then make it go away,” she said, shrugging.
“Make what go away?” I wrinkled my nose. “You think I should move? Good idea. Can I pack a bag and live with you guys? I’ll even let Luke keep the top bunk.”
Faith laughed. “You know what? He’s been asking to get rid of the bunk bed. He thinks it’s too childish.”
There went all my carefully laid plans for invading Faith’s life.
“How about you guys come back and live with me again?” I wheedled. “You could help distract Nick from the idea of dating me and I would have something to do with my time besides working at the snack shop and avoiding him.”
“It can’t be that bad, Jennet,” Faith said. There was doubt written all over her face. “You guys have been friends for forever. Talk it out. Find some kind of common ground.”
“There’s not really common ground when someone likes you more than you like him,” I said. “I offended him, I guess. I don’t know. I can’t help that he’s not what I’m looking for. I was just being honest. I don’t want to waste his time, and I certainly don’t want to waste mine.”
“But why won’t you just give it a chance?” she asked. “I think you guys would
be great together. I always have.”
I shook my head, adamant. “I don’t want to have to be in a situation where I give something as serious as love a chance,” I said. “I want to just know when it’s right, and I don’t feel that with Nick.”
“You’ve dated other guys before, though,” she persisted. “Other guys you knew weren’t Prince Charming. Why stop now? Dating is a crapshoot.”
“You landed your Prince Charming right away,” I said glumly.
Faith laughed. “Yeah, right. Don’t you remember all of the drama, all of the lying, all of the running away? That was the sloppiest Prince Charming landing I’ve ever heard of.”
“But you have your happily ever after now,” I pointed out.
“I got lucky,” she said. “First time in my life — well, besides running into our Corn Queen.”
“That’s me,” I said, beaming. “Your Corn Queen. See how royalty solves everything? That’s why I’m looking for Prince Charming. So he can solve all of my problems.”
“I really didn’t think you had any problems to solve,” Faith said. “You have a pretty happy life, if you think about it.”
“I guess I’m just bummed out with you and Luke gone,” I said. “Life’s a lot quieter here, and it didn’t help that I’m on the outs with the crooner across the hall.”
Even over our conversation, I could hear his guitar. That endless strumming. His fingers were going to fall off if he kept that up. Or maybe I’d call the super of the building and say that the guy with the guitar had to go — he was keeping me up at all hours of the day and night. Would that solve my problems? Somehow, the thought of Nick gone hurt worse than the reality of Nick pissed at me.
“Just talk to him, then,” Faith said. “This is just a blip in your friendship. Don’t let this one little thing ruin everything good that was going for you guys. I hate to see you like this.”
“I hate for you to see me like this, too, but I don’t know what I can do or say to make it better,” I said. “Maybe I really should move away. Put all of this behind me.”
“But what would I do without you in my life?” she asked, laying her head on my shoulder. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.”
Faith was my best friend, but there was a lot she didn’t know. I’d been coping with her very noticeable absence in my life for a long time. I just tried not to make her feel guilty about anything. She deserved Adam, and she deserved to be happy. I just wished I could have something even a little bit comparable.
“Without you guys, life is super boring,” I said. “Even if Nick and I were on speaking terms, all I really have to do is go to the snack shop and home again.”
Faith snapped her fingers. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it before,” she said.
“Think of what before?” I asked. “Forcing Luke to keep the bunk beds so I could move in with you guys?”
She laughed. “No. Parker reached out to me last week.”
“Parker who?”
“Parker — my old boss. The owner of the club.”
“What does this have to do with me moving in with you?” I asked, confused. “You know I can cook and clean. I’ll pay rent, too.”
“I’m talking about something to do to occupy your time,” Faith said. “Parker wanted to know if I knew anyone who she could employ on a part-time basis, and —”
“Wait a minute,” I said, holding my hands up. “I know that Sol found her Prince Charming while shaking her butt up on the stage, but I can’t say I’m much of a dancer.”
“No dancing required,” Faith said, grinning and holding her hands up. “Parker’s training Sol to be manager of the club.”
“Really?” I asked, dumbfounded. “So that’s why she cut back her hours at the snack shop.”
“I’m sure that’s the reason,” Faith agreed.
“But what does Xander think about her still working at the club?” I asked. “He’s a cop. It can’t look good that his main squeeze is stripping.”
“You’ll have to ask her that,” Faith said. “Once you take the position, that is.”
“What exactly would I be doing?” I asked.
“From what Parker told me, you’d be the DJ, mainly,” she said. “Here. I’ll give you her number, and you can find out for yourself.”
“Look, no offense, but I don’t think I’m really cut out for working in a strip club.”
“You wouldn’t be dancing, Jennet,” Faith said, exasperated. “I already told you.”
“Yeah, but the atmosphere…” I frowned. I’d never actually visited Faith at the club while she worked there. All I had were perceptions of what I thought it would be like, and what it would mean for me to work there.
“What you mean is you’re concerned about your reputation,” Faith said, raising her eyebrows. “You were never anything but supportive of me when I worked there.”
“I know. I’m not being fair.”
“Would you just give it a chance?” she asked. “You never know. You might actually like it. Plus, I really want to help Parker out. She did so much for me.”
“It’ll be a wonderful adventure,” I said, testing the words out in my mouth. I wanted Faith to be my close friend. I wanted back in to the fold. If working at the club and doing a favor for Parker was the way that was going to happen, I was just going to have to suck it up and do it.
“That’s the spirit,” Faith said.
I’d never interacted with my former roommate’s boss before, and I was even more dubious of what to expect after a terse phone call.
“Yes.”
I cleared my throat. People who answered the telephone with “yes” made me nervous.
“Hi, um, Parker,” I said, wishing I could be a little smoother. “This is Jennet. Faith told me —”
“Yes, I know,” Parker said. “I’ll see you at 9 tonight.”
“Um, okay?” I didn’t know why I’d agreed in question form, but there it was. Parker ended the call without saying good-bye.
I imagined, on the drive over, what Faith must’ve felt every time she’d made this journey. She sold her sex for money, or at least the illusion of sex. She’d tell me tales about working here, but I couldn’t imagine what it meant to actually do it. She’d done everything for her brother, of course, but it was a hell of a sacrifice to make, doing something you didn’t believe in, something that went against your morals.
I didn’t necessarily hold any strong thoughts for or against taking your clothes off for money, so it didn’t really irk me one way or another about working at the club.
Then again, I wouldn’t go around singing it from the rooftops.
The parking lot was full, and I had to parallel park on the street more than two blocks away. I wondered if it was the club garnering such traffic, and my question was answered as soon as I saw the entrance. People were actually waiting to get in, a line that extended down the club’s front. I had to sidle up to the bouncer and explain myself to get in.
I’d never visited Faith here while she was working. She never asked, and neither did I. I figured it would be awkward, at best, to see her dancing, even if I was fascinated.
The performer on stage as I crept into the crowded club was good. She had a command of the pole, swinging and spiraling in nearly perfect time with the rhythm of the song. It was hard to imagine my former roommate up there, doing the same thing. If I had to, would I be able to do it? If I’d had my back against the wall, just as Faith had, would I be able to do what was necessary to protect the ones I loved, to provide for them no matter what I had to give up for myself?
It was a pretty thought — if I had someone to love. But there wasn’t anyone — no siblings, no family to speak of, no lover who meant the world to me.
I felt the old itch, the itch to pack it up and move away. Had Nick asking me out ruin Miami for me?
But just when I was about to turn on my heel and march out the door, someone snagged my elbow.
“Jennet! I’m so happy
to see you!”
Sol beamed at me, dressed in a form-fitting black wrap dress and looking like the very opposite of a stripper. She looked like a businesswoman if I’d ever seen one.
“Look at you!” I exclaimed, enveloping her in a bear hug. “You look great! I want you to defend me in court, or something.”
She laughed, throwing her head back. “Whenever my training is done, I’ll be able to manage some people, that’s all. No lawyering.”
“Not yet, you mean,” I said, hooking my arm through hers. “You can do anything you put your mind to in that dress.”
“I hope so,” she said. “I’m nervous about remembering everything Parker is telling me to do. I don’t want to disappoint her.”
Sol looked so apprehensive that I felt a twinge of anxiety myself.
“What’s Parker like to work with?” I asked. I figured I might as well try to get the inside scoop from someone who’d know.
“She’s good and fair,” Sol said. “It’s just…oh, I don’t want to say anything to make you feel weird. You’ll understand once you spend enough time with her.”
That didn’t help me at all. I had to get some answers. “I mean, does she laugh a lot? Does she smile? Is she easy to get along with? Will I hate life at the end of a shift here? Are you a better boss than her? Can I work for you? Is Parker the worst boss in the history of the world?”
“I certainly hope not.”
I jumped, finally noticing that Sol’s smile had frozen on her face whole seconds ago.
“Jennet, I’d like you to meet Parker,” she said, taking me gently by the shoulder and turning me around. “Parker, Jennet. Faith’s old roommate and my friend.”
I was grateful for Sol vouching for me after I’d jammed my foot in my mouth.
“Yes, Jennet,” Parker said, not making a move to hold her hand out for a handshake. “Welcome to the club.”
“Thank you,” I said, holding my hand out awkwardly. Parker didn’t really seem like a handshaking type, but I didn’t know how else to introduce myself properly after my flub. “I’m happy to be here.”
She studied my outstretched hand as I studied her. Parker was 1950s pinup girl hot — not saying she was that old, just that she was that classic. I knew she was older, as Faith had told me as much, but I honestly couldn’t come close to guessing what the exact number was.
