When a struggling Broadway talent agent reluctantly agrees to represent a male stripper, she finds out there's more to her new client than oiled abs.
Season 1 of Strip in the City
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Today might be the worst day of my life. I just lost my biggest c...
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Later that night, after picking up my new phone, I left my office in a storm after scrolling through endless DM's from creepy guys who wanted me to be their sugar baby.
Whenever I was stressed out, I found my way into this cramped nail salon on 44th and Broadway. The smell of acetone mixed with lavender was oddly comforting.
Tan and I had been coming to this same nail salon since our days at Columbia. Even though we'd graduated five years ago, we still had a standing nail date once a month to catch up.
Thankfully, she'd been able to slip away from the dance studio she worked at to comfort me through this nuclear-life-meltdown.
When I walked in, Tanushree was contemplating the wall of gel polish colors. Her waist-length black hair was pulled up in a tight bun with a pen shoved through it, and she was wearing black leggings and a Columbia dance t-shirt. Her ballerina's knife-sharp posture perfect like always.
When she spied me walking toward her, her show-stopping smile flattened.
I didn't even get out the word hi before the sob lodged in my throat tore free.
"Fuck this day," I said between breaths as Tanushree wrapped me in a tight hug, rubbing circles on my back.
"It's okay, Mare. Let it out. Cry all you want."
Two college-aged girls gossiping at the nail station directly behind us turned to gawk at me as I cried into the sleeve of Tan's faded t-shirt, but I didn't care.
"You wanna know what the worst part is?" I said between tears.
"Your mom's insane media statement?" Tanushree guessed.
I pulled away from her sleeve, wearing a look of shocked outrage. "My mother made a statement?"
"Oh shit. You didn't see it yet, did you?"
I immediately fished my phone out of my purse to Google Eleanor Mitchell's statement. My fingers flew over the keypad.
Tanushree tried to snatch my phone away, but I spun on my heel, searching for what my mom had said.
"Don't do this to yourself, Mare. She's venom."
Tan was right. I should've ignored it. But it was too late. I was already reading lines of text.
"It's sad to see my oldest daughter acting unprofessionally out in public. Clearly, this kind of obscene behavior is the reason all her clients decided to sign with Mitchell Enterprise yesterday. It's the same reason I fired her last year."
I shouldn't be surprised my mother would say something like this. Eleanor Mitchell was like a shark searching for chum in the water. But, fuck, it hurt. Shouldn't my mom try to support me during times like these, not rip me to shreds?
Ms. Kim, the owner of City Nails, shooed Tanushree and I towards the row of pedicure chairs in the back. I didn't even bother grabbing a color. I slid into my usual chair, toed off my strappy sandals, and rolled my wide-leg linen pants to the knee. Tan followed me, taking a seat in the chair to my left.
