Chapter 5 It's a strip club

Louisa's POV

"He's a jerkfaced jerk," I said, climbing into Jackie's pick-up and slapping the door.

Jackie chuckled nervously and said, "Oh, come on, Louisa. He's not that bad. My mom always says a man is like an onion. You need to peel them, layer after layer, and then you can find out his true character. Plus, he was really a gentleman today, returning your heels in front of everyone like that. He always gets what he wants for a reason."

"I've seen pretty much everything about him and my conclusion is that he's a jerkfaced jerk," I said.

"You mean, full frontal?!" Jackie looked at me with eyes wide open.

"Worse than that." I shook my head and tried to get the image of his dick and balls out of my head.

I couldn't believe it. I had been haunted by a dick and balls all day long.

"Seriously?!" Jackie looked interested. "Tell me about it! Is he big? I've heard it was super big. What was it like? Leather?"

"Jackie!" I covered my ears with my hands.

To be honest, I was a bit surprised because I thought Jackie had already slept with Lucas.

After all, Jackie enjoyed exploring possibilities with boys and that was just the way she was.

And Lucas...

Well, let's just say he humped on almost every moving thing in front of him.

"Jackie, eyes on the road and hands on the wheel," Leah coughed awkwardly and said.

"Yes, sis. I mean, mom!" Jackie sighed and rolled her eyes.

I turned to look at Leah, sitting in the backseat. There was a small plaster on her forehead.

That was strange. I thought to myself. The cut on Leah's forehead looked pretty nasty this morning. But now, after a few hours, she looked almost fully recovered.

"How are you feeling?" I asked concernedly.

"I'm fine, Louisa. Thank you for asking," Leah said in a detached voice.

She had been talking in this reserved and polite way ever since I met her when I was a kid. She always looked more mature and serious than people of her age.

"Good news! Tomorrow will be Lucas' 20th birthday and everybody is invited!" Jackie announced with excitement.

"I'll pass. I'll be working an early shift at Juicy Lou," I said. "Today is my first day of work, remember? Wish me good luck!"

"Louisa, you know that we don't think you should work in a vile place like that," Leah said worriedly.

There was a hole in her head and she was worrying about me doing a part-time job. That was just how protective she was.

"If your parents knew about it..." she added.

"They wouldn't know about it, because I told them that I took a part-time job in your dad's grocery store," I tried to comfort her. "Plus, it's a legalized, licensed venue that..."

"It's a striper club, Louisa," Leah said.

"It's a legalized, licensed striper club where I work as a cleaner, picking up empty bottles and cleaning toilets," I explained.

"But still..." Leah's eyebrows furrowed in concern.

I hugged Leah from behind and said, "I promise that I will never get into trouble and always return home before it's 12 o'clock. You will hear my cars when I get home."

Leah and Jackie lived in a rented house in front of our ranch. We have been neighbors and friends ever since we were children.

"Yes, sis. Trust her. She's a pretty good runner. You saw her running without her shoes today," Jackie smirked at me from the rear window.

"Hey!" I burst into laughter and rocked the back of her seat.

Jackie giggled and said, "Help me, sis! Stop her!  I'm driving under the influence!"

By the time I arrived home, I had already forgotten all the shameful things that happened at school on that day.

**

Juicy Lou was a Russian strip club in the downtown area.

It was a high-end place where rich businessmen who suffered from mid-aged crises blew their money on girls with father issues or debts. Most of the rich clients would feel more than happy to pay for overpriced ice cream and fruit platters to flatter girls while enjoying a cup of beer or liquor without being nudged by their wives.

My early shift started at 8 and ended at midnight. I didn't get paid as much as the late-night shift, but my supervisor Natasha, a tall blonde Slovenian girl, told me that people were sobber and therefore friendlier.

"The tip isn't bad at all. The shorter your skirt is, the more tips you'll get." Natasha winked at me and said.

Ugh. I pulled down the hem of my tight uniform skirt with effort. I needed to bend down a lot while cleaning. I didn't want ugly old men's hands attached to my skirt like dust.

"OK. So you are not short of money. I understand." Natasha rolled her eyes and walked away.

Well, technically speaking, she was wrong.

I did need to make some money because some asshole corp was trying to buy out my dad's horse farm.

My dad didn't want to sell it to them, but they somehow persuaded the government to claim the premise where our farm was on. They offered compensation to us, but my dad wouldn't accept it.

It was our family estate that had been passed on to us from my great-great-grandparents.

And those horses... They were like family members to us. There was no way for us to subject them to the corp. Those people would definitely look for a way to put them down.

That was why my parents were working very hard to go through a lengthy lawsuit to fight for our land, which was also why I wanted to take a part-time job to make a small contribution to our family. My goal was to cover my own tuition fee and our family's life necessities. I did a rough calculation the other day. As long as I managed to make 1800 dollars a month, I wouldn't be able to pay for everything.

Anyway, on that day, I collected myself in the dazzling light and deafening music. Then, I picked up a basket and walked toward a booth to collect trash.

My first three booths turned out to be fine.

A white-haired gentleman who was wearing Armani and a half-naked Uranian striper even handed me a 100-dollar bill as a tip! Way to go!

Just when I was feeling overwhelmed, I saw a familiar figure in the crowd.

Sitting in the most expensive booth in the venue, surrounded by three big-tit stripers, Lucas fucking Farrow was enjoying a whale of a time by being bread fed by them.

One. After. Another.