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But then he decided that because he saw me as a stripper, he could treat me like a whore.
Career or no career, I'm not taking this.
I put my fork down and use the napkin to wipe my mouth. Then I look at him.
“You know, Prince Blaine, maybe instead of hiring me and doing some photo ops, you should, you know, be a nicer person,” I say with clenched teeth. “Did it ever occur to you that pretending to be a nicer person doesn’t actually make you one? Or are you too much of an overgrown and spoiled baby to realize that?”
Derrick is sitting there looking like I just hit him with a cold fish. I don’t know if anyone has ever spoken to him like that before.
"Thank you for a lovely meal," I say calmly as I get up from the table and walk towards the exit.
At first, I know Derrick's stunned. I take the elevator to the ground floor. It's past 9 pm now, and the mall is emptying out. But Derrick who ran down the escalators catches up to me.
"See, love," he says, as he opens the door for me. "You have your self-respect."
I look towards him sharply.
He continues. "If you were really into the money and wanted to strip for dollars, you'd have asked me how much per hour." His eyes glint at me. "Don't you see; you want to do this?"
I'm still angry, and my brain is processing what he's saying. Of course I have my self-respect! I'm not a real stripper!
"And, I really need your help, love," he says. "I'll pay whatever you would make were you still stripping, but I need someone like you that the public will love."
I think for a long moment. This could have potential. And it might help me smooth out my story a bit more. I'm about to say yes until I realize that I have to ask Mike first.
I want to say yes. I want to see what this bad boy prince has to offer.
Instead, I write my number down on a napkin in my purse and hand it to him.
"Call me tomorrow," I say to him. "I'll have your answer."
Derrick smiles. I smile back slightly.
"And thank you, truly, for dinner," I say. "It tasted wonderful."
He looks at me like he wants to kiss me. Okay, if he does kiss me, I wouldn't mind, you know? Like, I'm not going to reach over, but just saying if he did, it wouldn't be the worst thing.
Instead, he asks me, "What do I call you till then, love?"
I'm a bit started and he smirks. "We can't keep calling you Misty. I know that’s not your real name.” Oh crap! He figured it out! I knew this wasn’t going to work!
“I’ve been around a lot of strippers to know Misty is your stage name, love,” he says with a wink. “What’s your real name?”
Just as fast as my heart sped up, it starts to come back down to normal. He doesn’t know I’m his Alicia Bayer. He doesn’t know anything about me.
I can be anyone I want to be.
I pause to think. A giant MAC truck from Daphne Furnishings drives by.
"My name is Daphne," I tell him. "You can call me Daphne."
"Daphne it is then, love," he says, smiling and showing me his gorgeous teeth. "Would you have a last name?"
"Yeah," I say, my mind scrambling. "Daphne Apple."
Daphne Apple?
Oh my God.
