Page 71 of Lost Lyrebird

Over the last few months, I’ve let Raven and Bianca into my small bubble.They’ve been similarly forged by life’s hard knocks, with their own tragic stories to tell.

Bianca is an exotic beauty with Brazilian heritage.She works weekend nights and hires a nurse to stay with her son during her shifts.

Right away, I could see that her desperation stemmed from something beyond her need to make as much money as possible each night.The “extras,” the willingness to push boundaries, and OTCs or “outside the club” meet-ups, were a cry for help.When I learned she was doing all she could to pull herself out of a bad domestic abuse situation and put enough money aside to move away from her current boyfriend, I made it my mission to do all I could to help her achieve that goal.Raven jumped on board, and we’d all become close quickly.The fact that Raven and I were the only ones who saw Bianca’s struggle for what it was solidified my opinion of some of the other women here.

The three of us quickly established our own little group, one in which I’ve found some solidarity.

At my locker, next to Bianca’s, I smile at the gift bag I placed around the handle of her locker.Inside are a few little gifts for her son: a Ty duck plushie, a crossword puzzle book for kids, and a new box of crayons.It’s not much, but I know it’ll put a smile on her son’s face all the same.

Then, I swap my everyday underwear for one made entirely of satin—baby-doll pink—and weave the ties through a matching corset that lifts my breasts just right.I pull on thigh-highs with a ribbon and bow at the top, followed by delicate heels with ribbons that I lace up my calves.The click of the sky-high pink stilettos echoes as I move through the dressing room.

At my assigned vanity, I pin my real hair down and put on a wig made with real human hair.After putting on my face—dramatic smoky eye makeup and winged eyeliner—I clip on the heart earrings—glittering crystals that catch the dressing room lights.I smooth my fingers through my long platinum hair and style the voluminous waves so the top half is plated into long twin pigtails.For the final touch, over the corset, I put on a fluffy layered skirt with buckle details and a pink leopard-print bodice top with feathery wrist cuffs.The fitted top is sheer enough to hint at what lies beneath, and the effect of the shirt and skirt draws attention to my small waist.

I take one last look at myself in the mirror and grin at my reflection.In this outfit, I’m a whole new person… a sultry Barbie doll.This dance is a strategic one.A step forward in the bigger game I’m playing.

The metal on the bottom of my heels clicks against the flooring as I walk through the dressing room on my way out.The whispers that follow me are nothing but white noise.They bounce off the shield I’ve erected to keep the negative opinions and chatty Cathys out of my sphere.

I head down the hall and turn the corner just in time to hear Finn’s voice, deep and a bit strained.“I don’t give a shit about the money.She says she needs time, and we’ll give her as much as she needs.”

His tone is like steel, and it stops me for a second.I blink as I take in the scene—Finn, tense and defensive, arms crossed tightly over his chest.Raven is a few feet in front of him.Her expression hard and determined, one hand on her hip as she argues back.I slow my stride.Their attention swings toward me.Raven’s eyes dip immediately to my outfit, and she smirks.Finn?His focus stays fixed on my legs.Something flickers across his face.

I pretend not to notice.Bending down, I fix a ribbon on my calf, giving him a better view of my curves, before trailing my hand up my leg as I straighten.

“Too much?”I ask, with a hint of a tease.

Raven chokes on a laugh.

It takes Finn a moment to respond.When he finally speaks, his hoarse tone gives me a hint that the outfit choice is hitting its mark.“Not at all.”

His eyes burn with irritation when they venture up my body.Something darker shades them when they get to my chest.I note he’s also grinding his molars if the pulse jumping at his jaw is any indication.His body is rigid.

He rips his stare away from me and pins it back on Raven.

“We were just talking about you.”Raven’s enjoying watching him unravel.

Finn’s scowl deepens.Unease and frustration roll off him.

“One of our regulars wants some private time with yo—” Raven starts.

Finn cuts her off.“I told her no.That we’ve talked about it, and you said you’d let me know when you were ready to do privates.”

I nod in agreement, because yeah, I did.But it’s time to step up and get the game moving in the direction I’ve chosen.

Raven adds quickly, “It’s a semi-private dance, second-floor stage.It’s up to you if you want it to go further into a lap dance.He’s loaded and willing to lay down a good deal of green for time with you.But you won’t be alone.I can send one of the bouncers up there to watch over things.”

Finn growls caveman-style and holds up his hand.“It’s got to be her decision.”

“I know,” she snaps.“I’m just relaying the information.”

“Done.Now give her a second to think it over.”They stare each other down for long enough that it becomes awkward.

Raven smiles and flutters her hand in his direction.“In case you didn’t know, what’s happening here is pretty obvious.The others will figure it out soon enough.My best advice… you two need to figure your shit out.”

“Rave,” he says.

“What?It’s spilling over and throwing off the whole vibe in the club.”She points at him.“Fix it, be together, or let it go is all I’m saying.”

She turns and walks off as if she didn’t just tell off her boss.Finn pinches the bridge of his nose and lets out a pent-up breath before facing me.