I understood that strippers didn’t have the best reputations, but the girls I met were lovely. All but one, of course.
A small Hispanic woman with big brown eyes, smooth skin the color of coffee, strong on the milk, and curves that made men lose their ever-loving minds sneered at me. They called her ChaCha. It was hard to be nice to ChaCha when she looked at you like you smelled of shit.
People heard the girls calling me by my new nickname, and then soon enough, the technical and security staff, bartenders, and even some patrons were calling me Gypsy.
I didn’t mind. It kind of gave me a sense of belonging. I mean, friends normally gave you nicknames, didn’t they?
It made my heart smile.
That is, until Anika told me that Russians did not think highly of gypsies, and looking down at me, eyes lowered sympathetically, stated that she’d tell everyone to stop calling me that.
Putting on my biggest, flashiest smile, I thanked her but told her not to bother, because I liked it.
Take that, Miss Prim and Proper.
As my mind eased into the job, so did my tension, and I was becoming a crowd favorite. People wanted the gypsy to host their bachelor parties and paid ridiculous amounts to have me wait on them exclusively.
I didn’t understand it, but I was sure it had something to do with what Nas taught me when she took me out for lunch yesterday.
The moment we sat down, she sat up straight and laid it out on the line. “We have to talk.”
“Yeah, about what?” My heart started to beat faster.
Part of me thought I was being fired and Lev didn’t have the balls to tell me himself. But what she said next just baffled me. “Don’t take this personally or nothing, okay? But I thought when you settled a little it would come out naturally, and now that I can see it’s not going to happen, I’m going to have to teach you.”
I sipped at my lemon water, running my fingers over the condensation on the outside of the glass. “Teach me what?”
She took off her glasses and grinned. “How to flirt.”
I blinked at her then snorted. “What for? It’s not like I’m looking for a boyfriend or anything.”
She sighed, and reaching up, she rubbed at her temples as if I were trying her patience. “Mina, you’re a bar bitch at a gentleman’s club.” She paused a moment. “I didn’t want to have to put the pressure on, but you’ve been booked to host a bachelor party on Saturday night.”
Momentarily stunned, I gaped. Then I sputtered, “W-what? Why me? Can’t Anika do it? Make Anika do it!”
Nas glared, speaking slowly through gritted teeth. “They don’t want Anika. They want the gypsy.” She leaned across the small café table to get into my face. “And they’re going to get the gypsy, or I’m going to kick the gypsy’s ass. You feel me?”
Sliding down in my chair, I whined, “I don’t want to. I’ll spill their drinks all over them. They’ll complain to Sasha, and then I’ll get fired.”
“You haven’t dropped a glass since your second day. You can balance a tray. You’re getting more orders filled than any of us expected of you. And you have the men captivated.” She pinned me with a sincere stare. “You’re doing great. Even Lev thinks so.”
Whining Mina vanishes as intrigued Mina appeared. “Really? He said that?”
“Yes, he said that, just this morning.” Her brow furrowed. “You two are living in the same house. What the heck do you guys talk about?”
I shrugged. “Not much.” I tilted my head in thought. “It’s almost like every time I try to start a conversation, he gets all weird on me.”
Nas’ expression shifted. She spoke quietly but defensively, “It’s not his fault, Mina. It’s just the way he is. I don’t expect you to understand, but trust me—he can’t help it.” She followed this with, “Don’t judge him. He’s not being rude; he just doesn’t know how to be social.”