Page 19 of The Dancer

I told myself it was just a protective measure, that I’d do it for anyone. But I knew I was lying to myself again. It seems I want to look out for her in every which way I can.

She had a cute little figure in the white shirt and short black skirt, but even through the screen I could tell they were a little too big on her.


She didn’t have a stripper’s build as far as I could see. For one she was shorter, and she was also very slender. I wonder what made her think she could pull it off.

Most of the women here were svelte and busty. Her chest hadn’t made it out of the lower B-cup stage. In other words she had a neat little figure, but nothing close as per the requirements to dance on my stage.

My eyes moved up to her face, that captivating mix of innocence and sex appeal. It was her damn eyes, those catlike orbs that held a man’s attention as was evident by the way the manager looked at her now.

I squeezed my hands into fists when he put his hand on her shoulder and made myself stay in my seat instead of going after him to break it the fuck off.

She did one of those shifts that said she didn’t like the familiarity either and that calmed me down some. I’ll have to have a talk with him about personal space.

She pulled her hair up in a ponytail and pulled at her clothes before making her way back upstairs. I tracked every move until I started to feel like a voyeur.

I watched the first hour of her training, long enough to know that she was a fast learner and also that she was here to work.

Her interactions with the guests were vastly different to the way she treated the other waitresses and the rest of the staff.

She wasn’t rude or anything that I noticed, but neither was she inviting. At the tables she was courteous and always wore a welcoming smile while taking orders, but that professional mask slipped back into place once she was dealing with her trainer.

I also kept an eye on the way the others reacted to her presence. It wouldn’t be the first time some of the girls got catty at the presence of a new coworker. Especially one as pretty as her.

Maybe it was her standoffish attitude, or that don’t give a fuck way she had about her, but so far I hadn’t seen anyone getting out of hand, which was a relief.

Again I noticed her movements, how precise and calculated she was in each step she took. She had a commanding presence, an attention grabber without seeming to try.

I realized I was watching over her like a protective older brother, or would be lover. Something else that I wasn’t used to. It was obvious from what little I’d seen of her yesterday that she could take care of herself.

That mouth of hers was acerbic enough to keep anyone at bay. I told myself that since I was the one who’d offered her the job it was only natural for me to worry. Bullshit!

My eyes weren’t following her every move because I wanted her to do a good job. I was trying to find the answers to why. Why she’d been on my mind all damn day. Why I cared so much about what happened to her.

I’d had to fight the urge to run her name all day and had only held off because I was beginning to feel too much like a damn stalker.

Chapter 6

By the end of her second hour of training I felt sure that she was going to be okay once I saw her relax and the others, instead of giving her shit were being helpful.

They were probably curious about the girl I’d lost my shit over the night before. I didn’t kid myself that the story hadn’t spread through the place like wildfire.

The staff can be pretty clannish and though I stay far away from their interactions, I’m not blind to what goes on behind the scenes, and how some might go out of their way to make things hard for her.

I wouldn’t have felt right leaving her here to deal with that shit while I went off to Miami. At least with me here I was sure no one would get out of hand. Again I questioned just what the hell was going on with my ass.

Since when did I give a shit about such things? That was usually left to management to deal with, unless someone crossed the line into illegal territory, then I’d step in. But it was a known fact that I steered clear of in house bullshit. As long as they did the job I was paying them for I really didn’t give a shit about anything else.

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