by Carina Adams
She didn’t let me answer.
“Not a chance.” She leaned forward. “You told Francesca I was the ditsiest person you’d ever met and it was a good thing I'm pretty.”
My mouth fell open and I glared at my best friend, horrified she’d betrayed my confidence. “Once!” I practically shouted. “I said that once. After you asked the professor to help you find your assigned seat because you didn't see chair Thirteen-B.” I pointed out defensively, the memory made me forget what we’d been talking about to begin with.
“It was our first day in college! I didn’t realize course numbers were printed on the schedule. Plus, that eight really resembled a B.” Livie wrinkled her nose. “Even now you call me Fashion Barbie. If that’s how you see me, and you’re one of my closest friends, imagine what others think. So, explain how looking like us would be any better than being you.”
I leaned back in my chair. “It’s a proven fact beautiful people have it easier.”
“For Christ’s sake.” Frankie rolled her eyes.
“You’re right. You’re hideous,” Livie assured me. “Clearly, the gremlin under the bridge who I’m only seen with when I need an ego boost. You’re my DUFF.”
Before I agreed with her, a shadow fell over the table. I glanced up and grinned when I recognized my friend Lucky. He worked full time as a bartender at Hooligan’s Pub but he also attended UCM with us and was in most of my classes. I’d had an epic crush on him until we’d gotten paired together on a project late freshman year. After ten minutes alone with him, I’d seen the error of my ways and shuffled him firmly into the friend zone. He'd turned into a pretty fantastic buddy, though.
“You guys need anything?”
I lifted my empty glass to show him I needed a refill.
Lucky’s gaze lingered on it for the briefest moment before his lips twisted in smirk. “Yeah, no.” Emerald green eyes sparkled with humor as they searched my face. “You’ve reached your limit.”
“I’m as sober as a judge.”
He nodded, his lips twitching. “Until you stand up and it hits you. I bet you fifteen bucks you fall on your ass and I have to carry you to the car.”
Fair. It had happened before. Only once or twice.
“I got fired.” I mumbled. “I don’t even have two dollars or I’d totally take you up on that bet. You’d lose.”
His smile vanished. “Again? Shit.” He spoke to me, his voice full of concern, but his eyes had darted toward my friends. “Fred’s always looking for an extra set of hands around here…” he started, but Frankie cut him off with a shake of her head.
He hesitated, as if he had more to say. With a long sigh, tapped the table top a few times. “If you need anything Cady, call me.” His warm shamrock colored orbs bore into mine before he walked away.
“Ya know, you’re right.” Livie sassed, pulling my attention back to her. “Obviously you’re so grotesque, UCM’s hottest football star wanted to get you a job here, with him, so he never has to be seen with you either.” She rolled her eyes and when I opened my mouth to explain we’d been friends forever and a day, she cut me off. “I’ve been friends with him for years, too. He never tried to get me a job.”
“Everyone knows you don’t need to work,” I blew out an exasperated breath. Lucky and I came from similar backgrounds. I’d told him one night about my past and he’d opened up about his own. He understood why I needed to work.
“I need a rich grandpa.” I changed the subject, propped my elbow on the table, and settled my chin into my palm. “Think yours would adopt me? We could take turns visiting him and alternate weekends so you could have some Saturdays off with Frankie.” Before she answered, another idea hit and I sat up. “You don’t have any single uncles do you? Ones looking for love?” I wiggled my eyebrows.
“You’d marry a middle-aged man for his money?”
I waved a hand at Frankie’s surprised face. “Who said anything about marriage? I just need a sugar daddy to get me through the next few months. I'd totally show him a good time.”
The two of them stiffened. I noticed, but was too lost in my potential planto care. It was a great plan.
“You’d do that?” Livie’s tone was full of curiosity but held no sign of judgment.
“At this point there isn’t much I wouldn’t do.”
Frankie cleared her throat and shook her head slightly, but Livie spoke first.
“I need to tell you something.” Her voice hitched, visibly nervous. “It’s really important.”
She stood, rounded the table, and lifted herself into the stool next to mine, her face wrinkled in worry. “I don’t have a trust fund. My grandfathers are both gone and neither left me any money.”
“Yes, you do. I’ve seen the cash.”
“No. It’s my money. I work on the weekends. That’s why I’m never around.”
The alcohol had started to make my mind foggy. I tried to wrap my mind around her words. There was no rich relative, no trust fund, and Livie worked. Got it.
I wanted to know why she’d lied, but something else caught my attention. She had a shit ton of money, enough not to worry. I wanted just a portion.
“Where do you work? Are they hiring?” I sent the questions in a rapid-fire jumble, half slurred.
“I’m a performer.”
I stared at her, in an attempt to figure out what she meant. She’d mentioned she was auditioning for a play a few months before, but that was community theater, not a paid gig. Had she joined one of those mystery dinner troupes and not told me? I’d always wanted to go to one of those shows.
I lapped my dry lips and realized I was still gaping. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “Is it like a giant game of Clue?”
“What?” Livie’s face twisted in puzzlement. Then she seemed to understand. “No. Not acting. I dance,” she clarified quietly.
We all danced. When life got shitty, we turned up the tunes and shook our asses. We went to clubs and lost ourselves in the lights and melody.
Liv was a step ahead of the rest of us. She minored in creative movement and spent every free second at the dance studio. Frankie and I attended her recitals twice a year.
I shook my head in an attempt to focus on the issue at hand. “I know you dance.”
“No. At parties.” She cleared her throat. “Private parties.”
It took a few long seconds to sink in, but I managed to keep my chin off the table. “Exotically?”
Her lips twisted and her head tipped in thought. “I entertain, yes.”
It was such an outlandish idea I struggled to grasp it. “You’re a stripper?”
“Not really. Maybe you’d call it that.” Ruby red lips spread into an amused grin at my surprise. “I work with other dancers and together we put on a show. But, yes. I take my clothes off.” Her forehead wrinkled. “Is it so hard to believe?”
I nodded. Livie was sweet and innocent. I couldn’t imagine her undressing for money.
“Then this will blow your mind. If you want it, I can get you a job.”
“I’m too fat.” The automatic answer slipped out. I snorted as I thought about the meme I’d seen hundreds of times. “They’d pay me to put my clothes back on.”
She scoffed and threw me the evil eye. “Stop. I wouldn’t have mentioned it if I thought you couldn’t do it.”
I watched her closely for signs she was being factitious. There weren’t any. “How much do you make?”
She studied me. “Enough.”
I closed my eyes. Enough was all I needed. Enough would keep me in school. Enough meant I didn’t have to move home and disappoint my family.
“You’re not actually considering this.” Frankie interjected from across the table. “It’s not a good idea.”
“It’s perfect.” Her girlfriend argued.
Frankie eyes burned into mine. “You’d be the center of attention. Every person in that room would be looking at you. You’d hate every second.”
My heart beat faster and my palms began
to sweat at the mere idea of having to stand in front of a group of strangers.
“They’re small, private parties. Never more than a few dozen people. You’d be in makeup and a wig, wearing a costume.” Livie assured me. “You become another person when you’re up there, performing. For the first time in your life, you’d be free to do whatever you want and no one would be able to judge the real you.”
Frankie sighed. “Cady, think about this. Really. I’ve seen you dance.”
I wanted to smile at her teasing tone, but I ignored her.
One major issue worried me. We lived in a small college town and the University of Central Maine wasn’t huge. I didn’t want to walk into a party for the football team and see Lucky or any of my other classmates. “What do you do if you recognize people?”
“You act like you don’t. Or, if you’re uncomfortable, you tell your bouncer.”
My eyes landed on the bartender behind Livie. “What if someone recognizes me?”
She cleared her throat. “With all your makeup on, it would be hard. Add in the fact that they’re well on their way to being drunk and that guys are rarely observant enough to make a connection like that. If one ever calls you out, play dumb. Let your bouncer handle it.”
“Have you ever been recognized?”
“Nope.”
“You can really get me a job?”
She nodded. “I know a guy.”
“You don’t sound like you’re kidding.”
“That’s because she’s not.” Frankie ground out. Thought bubbles practically erupted from her, all the reasons I should forget about this conversation.
Livie’s attention moved from Frankie back to me. “You don’t have to decide right now. Just think about it.”
For the first time in months, I saw a small flash at the end of the tunnel – a way out I wasn’t sure I’d see again. I could wait for another opportunity to come along, for someone else to bring a torch and get me out of this mess. Or, I could stride down there and light the damn thing myself.
“I’m in.”
Three
Roman
The shrill beep of my alarm sliced through my brain like a butcher knife, and left nothing but pain and confusion in its wake. I was going to decimate the stupid fuck who’d set the goddamn thing on a Sunday morning. I forced myself to lift an arm, even though it was nothing more than deadweight, and swiped it across my nightstand, not caring about the shatter and crash that followed.
I buried my head under my pillow in a pathetic attempt to muffle the screech and dull the pain. It didn’t work.
With a long sigh, I pushed myself up, expending every ounce of energy I had. The nausea hit before I had a chance to open my eyes and I groaned as I leaned over, bracing my forearms on my thighs, and dropped my head. Every inch of my body ached, my muscles tense and as sore as they would have been if I’d just run an Iron Man. I didn’t have the strength to stand up, let alone search for the fucking iPhone.
A fist pounded on my bedroom door, one hard warning shot.
“Rome, get your lazy ass outta bed and turn the fuckin’ thing off,” my roommate growled, an unspoken threat lingered in the air.
I forced myself to my feet, ignoring the pile of shit and broken glass and hobbled across the room. I didn’t remember plugging my cell into the charger, or putting it on top of my dresser where I hadn't been able to reach it from bed, but it seemed like something sober and non-hung-over me would do. That guy was a fucking douche.
I reached out, silencing the evil machine, when I noticed the message flashing across the screen. The one I’d set so I would definitely remember. Fuck.
I’d forgotten Livie. We were supposed to meet at a coffee shop across town. She’d been cryptic in the text messages she’d sent Friday night, so I had no clue what she wanted, but it was too late to cancel now.
I slid open the drawer closest to me and pulled out the first thing my fingers touched before I shuffled out my door. I’d be late, but I needed a shower more than I needed air.
“You look like shit.”
I didn’t bother to glance in Reid’s direction. I didn’t have anything to say. If I looked half as bad as I felt, I was a walking disaster.
“Got your ass kicked again last night,” my best friend mused. “When you gonna learn?”
To anyone else he might sound annoyed, but I heard the hint of worry. It pissed me off. I was fine. Fucking fabulous, even. Living the dream.
“Jim again?”
“And Johnnie.” I mumbled. “Mostly Jack.”
“Jesus. Not even you can take on all three at once.” His tone told me he thought I was an idiot.
“I hung in good for a round or two. Or ten. On top of the world. Bastard suckered me from behind. Never saw it coming.”
“You never do,” he snorted. When I glared his way, he shrugged. “Don’t be a baby just because you’re a lightweight.”
“I can outdrink your scrawny ass any day of the week.” I ground out, as I stumbled into the door frame and fought another wave of nausea.
“Looks it. Want me to hold your hair back princess?”
“Fuck off.”
“How many times did you call Brooke?”
More than I should have. I barely stifled the groan as I remembered hearing my ex cry. I refused to answer and lifted a middle finger in his direction.
I didn’t bother to shut the door. I dropped my clean clothes on the floor and walked into the shower fully clothed, leaning my head against the cold tiles. I heard his laughs until I turned the water on full blast.
Whatever Livie needed, it’d better be good.
It took a Red Bull, three shots of Tennessee Honey, and a quarter bottle of ibuprofen, but when I walked into Perk Up a half hour later, I felt almost human again. I needed a pot of coffee, eye drops, and to sleep for a week, but I’d manage to survive a few hours around other people.
I glanced around the practically full café and found no sign of Liv, so I grabbed the largest cup of joe they sold and snatched a table in the corner, as far away from everyone as possible. The brat didn’t know how to be on time for anything, she never had, so it wasn't a surprise I'd arrived first. I yanked my cell from my pocket, ready to send her a message to find out how long I’d have to wait, but she’d beaten me to it.
Running late. Be there soon.
I rolled my eyes and attempted to stomp down my irritation as I shoved the phone across the table. I didn't have anything better to do, or anywhere else to be, but Livie had known me long enough to remember that I hated to wait. With an angry sigh, I leaned back in my seat, stretched out my legs, and crossed my arms over my chest.
The waitress chose that moment to come check on me. I knew she was new immediately, not only because I’d spent hours sitting a few tables away with Brooke while she’d studied and knew every employee by name, but because no one with experience would have approached me when every vibe I sent out told the world to fuck off and leave me alone. As soon as my eyes landed on her, she swallowed, her throat bobbed roughly, and forced a nervous smile. Her hands gripped the back of the chair next to me, clutching it as if it was a lifeline. If I hadn’t felt like shit, I would have found her caution slightly amusing.
I gave a sharp shake of my head. “I’m good.” I flicked a finger toward the still full cup on the table in front of her.
Her lips parted, her face scrunched in confusion. One brow rose as I watched her struggle with some unknown internal battle, her eyes moved over my face and down my body, almost as if inspecting me. When she found me lacking, she spun around and hurried away without a word.
I lifted the mug and took a long, savory sip, and let the caffeine soak in. Then another. Before I swallowed my third, a bottle of water and a package of Alka-Seltzer dropped onto the middle of the table.
“Coffee will only help your headache. These will fix everything.”
The waitress met my eyes when I looked at her, challenging me in a way I didn’t understand. She wa
sn’t my type and didn’t have a snowball’s chance in hell; even if I was available, a woman like her would never be able to handle me. Before I could say anything, Livie dashed up, her face flushed, completely out of breath.
“Sorry! I parked like five blocks down and had to run because I was worried you’d leave.” Her chest heaved as her eyes darted between the waitress and me. She smiled and threw her arm around the other woman’s shoulders, pulling her in for a sideways hug. “Yay! You’ve met.”
“Friend of yours?”
Liv didn’t pull away from the waitress, but she didn’t answer me either. Her eyes were focused on the table. “Are you hung-over?” She hissed as she sniffed the air. Her eyes narrowed suddenly.
I resisted the urge to get up and walk out. I refused to listen to her lecture me about shit that wasn’t any of her business. Especially when she sounded as disappointed as Reid.
I looked at the waitress again. “I’ll get her a coffee in a minute.”
The woman moved, as if she was going to heed my dismissal, but Livie didn’t let go. Instead, my friend glared at me. “I guess you haven’t done introductions yet. Roman, this is Cady. Cady, this delightful being is the grumpy version of my friend Roman.”
Not in the mood to make small talk with some server I’d probably never see again, I ignored the introduction and focused solely on Liv. All I wanted to do was find out what she needed and get back to my bed. I didn’t care how rude it was.
“Why’d you need me?”
“You’ll feel much better if you’d just take the Alka-Seltzer.” Cady insisted. When I ignored her again, she reached forward, opened the packet of medicine, dropped it into the water and shook it before handing it to me. Somewhere along the line she called me a stubborn ass under her breath and Liv nodded in agreement. “Drink.”
My eyes swept over her quickly. “I’m sure your boss isn’t going to be happy you’re giving shit away.”
Cady looked offended. “It’s mine.”
