Page 6 of Foxx
I let out a soft laugh.
“What’s funny?”
I shrug. “I just expected you to tell me to wear whatever would show the most tits and ass. And sell the most booze.”
“We do want you to sell, but more importantly, we want you to feel good about yourself here. The men’s entertainment industry doesn’t have to be a degrading career. It’s an art. And the sooner you stop comparing us to any other club, the better off you’ll be.”
“Roz, beer delivery is here.” A pretty girl with dark hair pokes her head around the corner just after we enter the large dressing room.
“Be right back. Have a look around, and try some things on if you want,” Roz says to me as she turns to the brunette. “This is Mia. Hopefully she’s our new hire.”
“Hey, I’m Libby.” She smiles at me, happy and almost wholesome looking. Her dark hair shines, and her voice is high and peppy. “What’s ours is yours,” she says as she turns to follow Roz down the hall. I give my head a shake. A strip club that feels like some kind of sorority? Does that exist?
Chapter 4
Mia
I spend a few minutes moving through the clean and tidy dressing room. The whole space is bathed in a soft pink glow emanating from delicate rope lighting around the ceiling. Without the overhead lights on, it almost feels cozy in here. There’s a bank of ten makeup stations in the large space, vanity lights surround the mirrors, and the clothing rack that runs the length of the other wall seems never-ending. I’m impressed to see that the entire rack is categorized by size, and thankfully the outfits aren’t all a size two or for girls who are only five feet tall.
A short, yellow satin dress catches my eye. It’s slinky, strapless, and very pale, almost the same color as my hair. The sudden urge to give in to my girly side surprises the hell out of me. It’s something I haven’t felt in a long time. I tell myself that it’s just to see if I can actually fit into this world as I start to peel off my clothes, leaving on my black thong and strapless bra. I place my clothes neatly under the rack before gently taking the dress offits hanger. Once I have it in my hand, I notice there’s shelving above with girls’ names taped under every cubby.Crystal, Heaven, Pearle, Shadow, Jade…And the list goes on. I snoop a little, seeing what each of the girls leaves here permanently, hoping it will tell me a little about them.
“That dress isn’t the one for you.” A deep, velvet voice assesses me, causing me to jump. My heart starts beating faster as I stiffen and spin around. When I find myself staring directly into the deep-blue eyes I’ve never forgotten, the eyes that have haunted me for a month, I freeze.
Aiden Foxx.
He leans against the doorframe, drawing from a freshly lit cigarette and studying me, his eyes questioning. He inhales and exhales. The smoke makes the room hazy and the air thicker. I fight the unexpected tingling under my skin as he just stands there, watching. Nervous energy rushes through me, making me cover those nerves with my standard sass.
“Are your hands broken?” I ask, lifting my chin and resisting the urge to cover myself. I opt instead to place a hand on my hip.Confidence, Mia, confidence.He raises the one that isn’t holding the cigarette and admires it. It’s massive, sculpted, and covered in ink.
“My hands are very capable, I can assure you.” His tone is low, and annoyingly enticing. I can’t stop the images that run through my head with his statement, and I instantly scold myself for even considering this motherfucker touching me.
“Well, clearly they aren’t capable of knocking,” I note.
“I don’t knock on any door in my own club,” he says calmly, “but I do notice every new face, especially when it belongs to someone like you.”
He pulls another drag. The way he smokes is so intentional,like it’s the last cigarette he’ll ever have and he’sreallygoing to enjoy it.
“Whatever that means, it’s just fucking rude,” I retort because I’ve got nothing else. I just want him to leave. “If you’re looking for Roz, she went with Lizzy.”
“Libby,” he corrects. My nipples pebble under the silky fabric of my bra with the intense way his eyes rake over me. It’s unsettling, like he’s judging me, and it’s starting to piss me off.
“And it means you don’t look like you belong here,” he explains.
I hang the dress back on the rack, then cock my hip back out, replacing my hand on it.
“You’re nervous aren’t you, darlin’? If you are, you shouldn’t be here.” He speaks like he sees right through me. As if heknowsme, and his thick, resonant voice sounds as though it’s emerging from the deepest part of my forbidden fantasies.
“I’m not nervous,” I fire back.
His eyes are devoid of any emotion as he brings his cigarette back to his plush lips.
“Turn,” he orders.
I flick my eyes back to his. It’s a direct command; he uses the hand holding his poison stick to signal for me to spin around for him.
I take a deep breath.You’re just a girl looking for a job.
“Slowly,” he adds as he exhales. I fight the urge to slap this scumbag in the face as I do what he says, gritting my molars when I’m facing away from him.
