Have you seen my gold hoop earrings?”

Jenny is always borrowing my stuff. I wouldn’t mind if she’d remember to return what she took once in a while.

I finish applying my lipstick while I wait for her to make an appearance.

I grow impatient, combing through my jewelry case again to see if I overlooked them. I’m going to be late. I took on a private party to earn some extra cash but if I’m not on time I can lose out on some good tips.

“Sorry.” She sucks in a breath through her teeth making some weird whoosh noise. Her fingers brush her hair behind her ears as she pokes her head through my bedroom doorway, revealing my earrings.

Rolling my eyes, I hold my palm out. “I’ll probably be out late tonight.”

“Well, be safe and all that.” She smirks, dropping the hoops into my awaiting palm.

“Always.” I grab a makeup wipe and clean off the ends before pushing them through my ears.

Picking my bag off the bed, I close my door behind me, half tempted to lock it so that nothing else of mine crawls off and disappears while I work. I adore my roommate, but she treats my closet like a five-finger discount store. I mean, I can’t blame her. I do have impeccable taste when it comes to fashion.

On my way out the door, Jenny stops me.

“Michael’s coming over, and I think it might be the night.” Her brows waggle.

I laugh. “Use protection.”

“Yes, Mother.” Moving her hand to the top of her head she salutes as I shut the door behind me.

She’s been seeing this guy, Michael, from her class for a month now, and they’ve yet to sleep together. I’m all for taking it slow but I’m pretty sure he’s gay. The guy dresses too nice and his brows are sculpted better than mine. I hate to see Jenny hurt but I’d bet that she’ll be crying into her Ben & Jerrys later when she makes a move and he gives her the just friends talk.

When I arrive at the club, Sheer Fantasy, the girls are already getting in the van. Shit. I’ll have to change on the way.

Five of us were hired for a bachelor party at some swanky building downtown, which means the money will be damn good. It’s the only reason I do private parties outside of the club where I dance. I park my car and grab my stuff as I rush for the van. Ben, our driver and security for the night laughs as I breathlessly climb in the back dragging my clothes with me.

“Don’t start.” I wag my finger at him with an airy laugh.

He shakes his head and starts the vehicle while I do my best to change clothes as he swerves in and out of traffic. He steals glances as I change, but I don’t mind. It isn’t anything he hasn’t seen before. He’s always a gentleman. Walks me to my car at night. Some of the customers can become infatuated and want more. Their lens between reality and fantasy blurs on occasion. One guy bought me an engagement ring without ever having a conversation. He’s since been barred from frequenting the club, for my safety.

“I love this.” Crystal runs her fingers over the sequins on my cop costume. “Did you make it?”

“Yeah.” I grin like an idiot as I hook the halter-style straps around my neck. I love making new outfits and costumes to wear to the club. When you dance four days a week, building a wardrobe can get expensive. Just because I take the clothes off doesn’t mean I don’t like a variety and to look good.

“Rod should hire you to make our stuff. You do great work.”

Stacie sneers at Crystal’s compliment. She’s a jealous cunt who doesn’t like me because I’m a headliner and bring in a lot of customers. Heavy tippers. It’s not my fault they don’t like her flat, dimpled ass. That’s not me being a catty bitch, it’s the truth. She doesn’t have the numbers to back up her attitude and she doesn’t take care of her body. Rod’s always threatening to fire her for drinking on the job, but he never goes through with it because they’re sleeping together.

I work out three days a week and take a pole dancing class at a local studio. I work hard to maintain my body and to earn paper.

What I really want is to open my own boutique someday, selling my own jewelry and costumes. It’s a pipe dream but it’s pretty much all I’ve got.

I’m not naïve enough to think I can strip forever.

By the time I’m ready, Ben is parking in the private underground garage of the building.

We all get out and he punches in the security code for the private elevator. As I step inside he whistles, thoroughly checking me out. Maybe I’ll give him a private dance one day.

When the elevator doors open, a grin spreads across my face. Judging by the penthouse we’re walking into, I’m about to get paid. The entryway is nicer than my apartment.