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Vivian

Kit took one look at my face when she answered the door and just stepped aside to let me pass, then wrapped her arms around me and didn’t let go.

“That fucker’s going to get the most watered-down drinks from now on,” she promised. “From everyone. I’ll spread the word.”

I laughed through my tears. It wasn’t really much of a consolation since it meant he’d be back at the club.

“You can hide out here as long as you need to, babe. I’ve got your back.”

~~~~

When my phone buzzed with a text on Friday at precisely five p.m., I knew exactly who it was.

Jeff: The driver is waiting. Don’t make me tell him to leave.

Was he fucking for real?

Did he actually think I’d go to his house after what he did to me at my club? I hadn’t been able to figure out how he knew I’d be there. Hell, maybe he hadn’t known, and he’d gone there for entertainment. Seeing me had just been a coincidence.

Yet somehow, I was the bad guy.

Fuck him.

Me: You probably should since I’m not home.

I flipped my phone face down on the coffee table and kept folding Kit’s laundry. I wasn’t going. And I wasn’t explaining myself either.

Two minutes later, my phone buzzed again.

Jeff: If you don’t show up tonight, the contract is null and void.

Me: Then I guess it’s null and void.

My stomach twisted at the thought of losing out on that money, but there was no way I could bring myself to go tonight.

Let him be pissed. Let him report me to the club if he wanted. I didn’t care.

Except I did.

I stacked the last towel on the pile and told myself I wasn’t going to cry again. My eyes were still puffy from my sob session last night and again this morning, even after putting frozen spoons on them.

My phone buzzed again, only this time the message was from Kit.

Kit: How are you holding up?

Me: He just told me if I don’t show up, the contract is null and void. Which means I get nothing.

Kit: You sure you want to walk from sixty grand? It’s just one more weekend.

Me: I can’t do it, Kit. He humiliated me in front of everyone I work with.

Kit: Yeah, but did they know what was happening?

Me: I’m sure Sapphire must have, and she probably told everyone else by the end of the night.

Kit: I’m all for some light vandalism when I get home. A rock through a window. Maybe some spray paint on his garage…

God, I loved her.

Me: I’ll think about it, but for now, I’m going to curl up in a ball and cry some more.

Kit: He’s not worth your tears, babe. Order a pint of ice cream and a bottle of wine from Instacart and put on a horror flick. DO NOT WATCH A ROMCOM! Tomorrow we’re getting mani/pedis.

Me: I love you so much. Thank you for letting me crash here for another night.

Kit: You did my laundry. You’re welcome any time!

I wasn’t going to overstay my welcome, but I did want to spend a little extra time with her.

I’d been thinking about what Mom, Hope, and I were going to do come Tuesday when I didn’t have the big payment we’d promised Lorenzo.

As much as it sucked, the only feasible option was to skip town for a while.

Maybe a fresh start would do us all good.

~~~~

“Are you okay?” Hope asked from the couch, curled up with her knees under her chin and a mug of cocoa in her hands.

I nodded, even though I wasn’t. I doubted I ever would be again.

Mom walked into the living room and did a doubletake when she looked at me.

“Viv, what’s wrong?”

I’d come over Sunday evening after spending all weekend trying to figure out how I was going to tell my family I hadn’t been able to come up with the money for Lorenzo after all.

I’d never explained how I was getting a big influx of cash, and they were both street-savvy enough to know not to ask.

“I think we might need to start thinking about leaving town,” I said, keeping my voice low.

Hope’s face fell. “You couldn’t get the money?”

“No,” I replied with a sad smile. “The deal fell through.”

Mom didn’t say anything, but the look she gave me was the same one she used to give Dad when he’d blow half his paycheck at the casino. Tired, wary.

I continued on, trying to sound pragmatic. “You can crash at my place tomorrow. If I work a double, I should be able to make enough for traveling money.”

Maybe I’d even work the Champagne Room.

I had no doubt that wherever we landed, I could get another job dancing. The problem was, we needed gas money to make it there first.

I bit back a sob when I told them, “I’m sorry.”

I was sorry about so many fucking things.