Page 19 of Ruining Hattie

HATTIE

I don’t know what I said wrong, but Bastion’s mood soured after Ray left his office. Though I try not to let it get to me, the change puts me on edge, nonetheless.

The good news is that I catch on quickly to everything he goes over with me. In fact, I have some ideas on how to streamline a lot of his processes. I won’t mention them now, but once I dig in and get the lay of the land, maybe he’ll be receptive to hearing them.

The bad news is that I now work at a strip club.

I can’t even believe the words when I say them in my head.

My parents will definitely not approve. I’m not sure I do.

But Bastion’s right—the salary this job affords me can change a lot of things in all three of our lives, so it’s worth giving it a chance, right?

Plus, Bastion is nice. Ray is nice. If it’s a nice work environment, then what’s my problem?

Maybe I’ll be sequestered in here all the time and never be exposed to what goes on outside of this office.

A few hours in, things must be up and running because the deep rumble of bass sounds through the walls of the office, and I can hear people—mostly females—talking farther up the hall from where we are.

Bastion claps his hands together and leans back in his seat. “Shall we take a break?”

“Whatever you want.” I give him a tight smile, hoping his mood comes back around.

“I want to go make the rounds now that the club is open. Come on, I’ll introduce you to everyone.”

My throat constricts, and I can’t squeeze out a word, but I nod in agreement, eyes wide.

He chuckles, which I’ve noticed he does when he sees my nervousness. “There’s nothing to be nervous about. They won’t bite.” He takes my hand and pulls me up from the chair.

He leads me to the door but drops my hand as we enter the hall. We walk side by side, and he takes me into the room where all the dancers get ready before they perform.

My face is as hot as the surface of the sun as soon as we walk in. A handful of women are in various stages of undress, though none of them seem concerned at all that we’ve entered. I chance a glance at Bastion, and he doesn’t appear fazed in the least by all the bare chests and butts.

“Hey, boss,” one woman says as she pulls a triangle bikini top up over her breasts.

He gives her a wave and puts his fingers in his mouth, whistling. Everyone stops what they’re doing, staring at him.

“Ladies, I want to introduce you to someone.” Bastion gestures to me. “This is Hattie, and she’s going to be my assistant from here on out. If she gives you a directive, consider it the same as if I were giving it to you. She’s new in town, so please make her feel welcome.”

All the women say hello, and I’m not sure where to keep my eyes. A couple of them are half naked, but no one else seems to think anything of it. I try to make it seem as if I’m unfazed, but I’m sure I’m failing miserably.

I raise my hand and smile, looking around the room. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

“Where’d you find her, Bastion, the cornfields in the Midwest?” one of the ladies at the back calls out.

“Don’t start, Ashley,” Bastion says in an authoritative voice. “Hattie is very good at what she does, and I expect you to treat her with the same respect you treat me. Everyone understand?” His eyes scan the room.

The women nod and all say yes, except for Ashley. She just rolls her dark eyes and turns to face her locker, pulling out a change of clothes.

“All right, ladies, have a good shift.” Bastion turns to leave.

A few of the women look me over, and I rush behind him to keep up.

I realize now what Bastion meant about my wardrobe.

I stick out in a major way, but it’s what I’m used to.

I’m certainly not going to wear what the women in there were wearing.

Don’t they worry about what other people are thinking, how they’re gawking at their bodies, and thinking about having sex with them?

Seriously, Hattie? Of course they don’t. They dance naked for money.

Bastion leads me farther down the hall, and we enter the main room he led me through when we first arrived. It’s like a completely different place now.

A few men have taken up residence at some of the tables, and the lights are now dim with various shades of neon backlighting casting down on the stage where a woman is currently spinning around the pole.

Music pumps through the space, and a couple of bartenders are serving customers behind the backlit bar.

Bastion leans in close to me so I can hear him over the music. Again, I feel his breath on my neck, and it makes me want to close my eyes. “This is the main room where all the action happens. I’ll introduce you to the bartenders and the DJ some other time.”

“What’s back there?” I point toward where a security guard stands at the entrance to a hallway.

I’m not sure I trust Bastion’s grin. “C’mon, I’ll show you.” He leads me over to the man and says over the music, “Dmitri, this is Hattie. She’s my new assistant.”

Dmitri doesn’t say anything, just gives me a terse nod, which I return with a smile, not sure if I should say anything more. But then Bastion continues on and leads me down the hallway where there are a bunch of doors with numbers above them.

“These are the VIP rooms.” He opens the second one we come to and goes inside.

The room isn’t exactly small, but it’s not huge.

Glittery silver curtains that meet in the center of the ceiling go to the top of the wall and are draped down behind the leather banquette that lines the walls.

Music from the main room filters in through speakers mounted in the corners, and there’s a low circular table in the middle of the space.

I’m not so sheltered that I’ve never heard of a VIP room or what is rumored to go on in them, but I am curious about the truth, so I ask Bastion, “What happens in here?”

He turns and meets my gaze. “Whatever the girls and their customer agree on.”

It’s apparent what he’s not saying—that anything and everything goes.

I look around the space again. It’s weird to think that people have sex and do other stuff in here.

I have a hard time wrapping my head around the idea.

I was taught that sex was something to be saved for marriage and that it was something special you share with someone you love and want to spend your life with.

That giving your body to a man meant something.

But here, it’s a commodity to be bought and sold. I can’t… I just can’t.

“I think I’ve seen enough.”

Before Bastion can say anything, I rush from the room. He calls my name, but I don’t stop. Instead, I rush through the club, back down the hallway behind the stage, and push into the women’s bathroom with tears in my eyes.

I don’t think I can do this. I owe it to my parents to try, but if they knew where I was working, they’d be mortified. They’d be embarrassed to tell all the people at church. Our precious Hattie? Oh yeah, we disowned her. She works at a strip club.

“You okay, sweetie?”

One of the dancers comes out of a stall. I don’t remember her name from the quick introduction a short time ago. She’s wearing a pink wig, sparkly black booty shorts, and a white stretchy crop top that has a bunch of holes in it.

“Just a little overwhelmed.” I feel like an idiot. She’s probably looking at me, judging me as some goody two shoes. That I think I’m too good for this place.

Her lips tip down, and she squeezes my shoulder. “It’s a lot if you’re not used to this kind of thing. I’m Renee, by the way.”

Her genuine niceness allows me to relax a little bit.

“I remember my first time onstage, I thought I was going to pass out. My legs felt like Jell-O.” She laughs, obviously remembering it. “I was sure I was going to fall flat on my face and make a fool out of myself. I almost didn’t step out on stage.”

“What made you do it?”

She smiles, and her eyes sparkle. “I remembered who I was doing it for. I just pictured my little baby boy at home. If I wasn’t going to provide for him, who was?”

It’s obvious from the look on her face that she loves her son very much.

“How old is he now?”

“Elijah? He’s four now. Best thing I’ve ever done. I’ll show you some pictures next time I have my phone with me.”

I give her a smile. “I’d like that.”

She sets her hands on her hips and sighs, looking me up and down.

“Listen, I mean no disrespect, but looking at you, it’s clear you’re not used to this kind of life, so I’m gonna assume that if you took this job, there’s a reason.

You just gotta remember your why. Any time you’re questioning it, remember your why. ”

“Remember my why,” I repeat, picturing my parents in my head and that stack of bills with red print.

“Exactly. I have to go finish getting ready, but I’ll see you around, okay?

Hang in there.” She squeezes my shoulder again and walks toward the exit.

When her hand is on the door handle, she turns and looks at me over her shoulder.

“Oh, and don’t worry about what Ashley said in the changing room.

She’s just a bitch.” She winks at me, then leaves the restroom. “Oh, hey, boss.”

Does everyone in Seattle wink?

I feel a little better now. Maybe Renee is right—I just need to remember my why.

I’ll give it the week and see how I feel. If the why doesn’t outweigh how uncomfortable I am, I can always go home.

Decision made, I turn and leave the restroom.

Bastion leans against the wall opposite the door with his arms crossed. “Feel better?”

“Yes, actually, I do.”

He nods. “Good, let’s go back to my office. We can order something to eat while I go through the rest of the stuff with you.”

“Sounds good.” I follow him, feeling a little guilty for not telling him that I’m giving this job a week before I make a decision about it.

But I have a feeling he could convince me to do almost anything, as evidenced by the fact that I’ve moved to a new city, I’m living with him, and working at his strip club.

No, I need to figure out whether I can stay in Seattle for myself.