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“Lacy, come on. You can’t wear a bikini when we go to the beach. You’re going to strip in a club full of men?” She looked over at me and must have seen that she’d hurt my feelings because she rushed to apologize. “I’m not trying to be mean, honey, I just…I don’t know if you can do it for real. You’re great here at home, but on a stage?”
Her face filled with doubt, and for some reason, that just made me more determined. Mandy wasn’t mean, she was normally supportive, but not this time. What was so different?
“I can’t believe you’re saying no,” I whispered, truly hurt by her doubt.
“Honey, it’s not that I don’t think you’re pretty enough, or that you aren’t good enough, it’s that you’re so damned shy!” Mandy said after a moment where she struggled to find words. “I’m a stripper, that’s why I come home with so many stacks of money.”
She wasn’t joking either. She literally brought home trash bags full of money that she’d put through a counting machine before she hid it in safe deposit boxes all over the city.
“I take my clothes off, all of them. Do you really think you can do that?” She pushed the pink fleece blanket with a unicorn motif she’d been bundled under away and sat up.
“I think I can. This guy,” I paused, looking away, embarrassed to admit what I was about to say. “This guy came into the station today, and he really made me think about what I was doing with my life. I’ve been hiding from the world for too long. My parents died and left me, then Wayne’s stupid ass ghosted me. And, well, I wished I was you for a moment today. You would have got that man’s attention and held it. You would have been in that Maserati of his and in his bed in no time flat. I barely even registered on his radar. I just want a chance to live a little, even if it’s just for one night.”
The words trailed off as Mandy stared at me, looking at me more intently than she had in a long time. She shook her head, finally, and pulled the blanket back up. “No, I can’t do it. You’ll get stage fright, and I can’t put you through that humiliation. One way or another, I’m getting up off this couch and I’m going to work later.”
“Mandy!” I almost shouted, but I really wanted her to pay attention to me. “I can do this. I can.”
Mandy opened one eye, her right eye, and stared at me. “Which routine would you do?”
“The one you showed me last summer,” was my immediate answer. I had it down perfectly and could even do it in the heels she wore.
“And you won’t run off the stage, get sick to your stomach and call it off before you even get to the stage, or do anything else that would cost me my job?” Mandy demanded, both eyes open now.
“I swear. Just give me this one chance to prove to us both that I can do this,” I pleaded, my eyes big as I implored her with my whole being.
She gave me another doubtful look before she spoke again, a sigh escaping with her words. “I’ll call my boss. Check my soup.”
I got up and danced a little dance of joy before I ran over to the small kitchen. Then it hit me. I was really going to do this. What had I gotten myself into?
