Clarity

Chapter One

   I glared at the man with distaste. He was one of those guys you could tell was always drunk and was dying to get his hands on at least one pretty female. Desperate. His smile was creepier than the business clothes he wore.

   The male was one of those fat business men that you knew hated his nine-to-five and preferred to wander aimlessly around bars. Most likely he was that guy who could never get a girl no matter how hard he tried and was in debt up to his eyeballs trying to impress a girl. But he wasn’t a box of chocolates. He was well over three hundred pounds with red cheeks and squinty eyes and balding hair that was turning that bright silver.

   I would almost feel bad for him if it wasn’t for the disgusting looks an obvious ogling that he was doing.

   Forty-year-old virgin, I thought sarcastically as I smiled my perfect little smile. I refilled his drink and tried not to gag when he looked down my shirt. More like sixty. Where do these men come from?

   “Hey, honey,” the man called out as I turned away. “You like this job, don’t you?”

   I withheld the groan that threatened to come out as I turned back out and tossed my hair over my shoulder. The man’s eyes immediately went to my breasts again and I bit down the scoff that threatened to escape.

   “Sir,” I replied, leaning close. “The dancers will be out soon. I’m not a dancer. This is a shitty job with shitty pay with shitty people. I don’t like it.”

   I shifted back and set the empty tequila glasses on the back stand casually before smiling once more at the disgusting man.

   “Don’t forget to tip!”

   The shocked look on the man’s pudgy, ruddy face was priceless and I would have paid for a picture of it. It was obvious that he had never been to the Raven before. We weren’t like most strip clubs.

   I walked away from the bar and stepped into the kitchen with the dirtied tequila glasses. Mostly for my own sanity, I looked into the mirror over the sink to make sure there weren’t any traces of stare marks on me.

   Stare marks, Clarity, I questioned myself. Smart one, girl. Like those are even real. You’re freaking out over nothing. Besides, who do you have to dress up for?

   I frowned in the mirror and shifted my train of thought to looking more put together.

   My hair was that deep black that people have to dye their hair to be. I was constantly being asked what dye I used and being given dirty looks when they learned it was natural. What was worse was when they asked me how I got such large, perfect curls.

   They were natural too.

   I removed the hairpin I had used to keep my hair from my eyes and shook out the mess gently. I carefully smoothed back the bounce I had given to cover my eyes slightly and pinned the thick, smooth hair into place once again.

   My reflection watched me closely and I hugged myself nervously.

   Her eyes were sharp and cat-like and such a blue that they nearly glowed with an indigo light. The color was unnerving and I had taken to saying that I had contacts just to stay away from even more glares and quiet whispers. Being completely pale wasn’t much better either so, from afar, I looked like one of those pretty magazine models.

   If only I was one of those pretty models.

   I adjusted my pleather corset and tugged down my jean skirt to actually cover myself. I had learned quickly not to wear loose clothing. Yet, somehow, the men managed to flip up my skirt anyway. It was beginning to try on my nerves.