“I haven’t decided yet.” Liar, yes you have. Good money is good money and as long as I don’t have to strip, I can handle standing in the middle of a vagina circus.

“What job is this?” Livie pipes up, her curiosity peaked.

“A job with me, where I work,” Storm explains.

“My mommy gets paid to give people drinks, in a restaurant. Like this!” Mia scrambles to her feet and runs over to grab an empty cup from the counter. “Would you like a glass of lemonade, Madam?” She carries it to Livie with the utmost care and bows.

“Why, thank you, kind waitress,” Livie gushes theatrically and proceeds to gulp back the imaginary drink like she’s just crossed the Sahara desert, finishing with a wink for Mia. But, when she turns to me, her brow is furrowed with unease. “Serving more than lemonade, I take it?”

I nod, dropping my focus to re-arrange the cutlery on the table before I can meet her worried gaze again. Her bottom lip is sucked into her mouth. She’s trying hard to stop it from quivering and I know what she’s thinking. She’s afraid I’ll spiral back into that dark place where the tequila is flowing and the one-night-stands are frequent. Even though I’ve promised her a hundred times that that phase is over, she’s still terrified of losing me to it again. I can’t blame her.

That’s why I’m surprised by her next words. “You should take it, Kacey.”

My head cocks to the side as I regard her.

She shrugs. “If you’re serving them, you can cut them off, right?”

“Right.” I nod slowly, processing that logic. Livie always finds the good in things. I steal a glance at Storm to see her intently focused on stirring her tomato sauce. I know she must have heard that. She’s got to be wondering what dark skeletons these two neighbors of hers have in their closet. As usual, she has the decency not to pry.

“And there’s good money in tips from what I hear,” Livie adds. “Maybe I can get fake ID and get a job there too!”

“No!” Storm and I shout in unison and share a silent look. A look that says this is good enough for us, but not for Livie. She’s too good for this world.

“Mommy? Are you working tonight?” Mia’s tiny voice chirps up, delaying more of Livie’s questions.

Storm smiles sadly at her daughter. “Yes, honey bear.” It has to be hard, leaving her six nights in a row.

“Can I stay with Livie? Please, Mommy?” Mia holds her hands together in front of her as if she’s praying.

“Oh, I don’t know. Mia. I think you’ve monopolized enough of Livie’s time today, don’t you think?”

“But, noooo … Mommy!’ Mia whines and stomps around the room in a circle, reminding everyone that she is only five years old. She stops in a huff, throwing her arms around herself, and scowls. “I don’t like Mrs. Potterage!”

“She’s a nice lady, Mia,” Storm says with a sigh, like she’s said it a hundred times before. To me she leans in and whispers, “I don’t blame the poor kid. Potterage smokes like a burning oil field. But I can usually rely on her for at least four nights a week.”

“I don’t mind at all,” Livie jumps in with a pat on Mia’s back.

“See Mommy? Livie says, yes!”

Storm cringes. “Are you sure?”

“Of course. In fact, I’m more than happy to watch her every night if you want,” Livie offers with complete seriousness.

“Oh, Livie. I work six days a week. That’s a lot to ask of a fifteen year old. You deserve to go out and party or, whatever fifteen year olds are doing these days.”

Livie’s already shaking her head. “No it’s not and I don’t mind.” She pinches Mia’s cheek, as taken by the child as Mia is of her. “I’d love it.”

There’s a long pause and Storm swallows, considering it. “You’d have to let me pay you for your time. No more arguing.”

Livie’s hand waves dismissively. “Yeah, fine. Whatever. She’ll be asleep most of the time anyway and Kacey will be at work with you, right? So at least I won’t be alone.”

All three turn to look at me hopefully.

I heave a loud sigh. “Just drinks, right? I’m not serving anyone … anything else.”

Storm’s irises twinkle. “Not unless you want to.”

“And I don’t have to wear anything revealing?”

“Well …”

My head drops back and rolls from one side to the other. “Here we go.”

“I was just going to say that you’ll make more money showing a bit of cle**age than you will dressed as a Mormon. A lot more money. I’d show a teensy tiny bit of skin, if I were you.”

I sigh again. “And I can quit if I don’t like it? No hard feelings?”

“Absolutely, Kacey. No hard feelings,” Storm asserts, holding a wooden spoon in front of her face as if she’s pledging.

A long pause, just enough to make Storm squirm. “Okay.”

“Great!” Storm throws her toned arms around me, oblivious that the contact is making my insides churn and the voice in my head scream. She breaks away just as quickly and moves back to her pot of sauce, allowing me a chance to exhale. “You start tonight, by the way.”

“Tonight. Fun.” I can’t keep the sarcasm from my voice as butterflies start their mad dash around my belly, killing my appetite. I hug my arms tight to my body, acknowledging that a club’s worth of new people means handshakes and questions about personal shit that are none of anyone’s business. I’m not ready for this. I haven’t prepared … One … two… three … four… By the time I reach ten, I’m freaking out.

Stage Three ~ Resistance

Chapter Four

We pull up to Penny’s Palace in Storm’s Jeep just as the sun is dropping over the horizon. Storm doesn’t even have the thing in park before I jump out. When she walks around to meet me on my side, it’s with a look I’m long since used to—a mixture of surprise and concern. She doesn’t comment though.

She does comment on me tugging at the short black skirt I borrowed from her. “Stop fidgeting.” She swats my hand away. “I never would have taken you for the nervous type.”

“Easy for you to say. You’re ass isn’t hanging out. I can’t believe I agreed to wear this Band-Aid. I’m going to bend over and show everyone my girl bits.”

Storm laughs. “Of course you should wear that Band-Aid. It shows those awesome legs of yours off.”

“It’s showing more than my legs,” I mutter, giving it another tug to cover the bottom of my tattoo. I’m not ashamed of that. I just don’t want to draw more attention to myself than necessary.

“Good Lord! For such a tough act, you really are a big sissy girl, aren’t you?”

She’s right. I guess I’m just out of my element here and it’s causing me to second-guess everything. If this were the gym, I’d have no problem in tiny shorts that hug my ass. But this isn’t the gym and I’m not allowed to kick the crap out of anything here.

I c**k my head to the side as I take in Storm. “Did you just call me a sissy girl?”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “Did you just say ‘girl bits’? This is an adult club, not a day care.”