Ruthless King

It was guaranteed.

Unlike your life. Where there is no guarantee.

Scott’s right.

Time to grow up and live in the real world.

“You’re right,” she said, interrupting Dan who was busy scolding Scott. “I have to stop thinking that everything will work out and make sure that it does. I need a second job. Being a librarian doesn’t exactly pay well.”

“Dancing at the club does,” Sasha said. “You can work a couple of nights a week and pay off all these bills in probably eight to ten months.”

That would be amazing.

And it was completely impossible.

“I can’t,” she whispered. “I’m not confident or gorgeous like you.”

“Jilly, you’re a knock-out,” Sasha replied. “You just have to stop hiding.”

Jilly didn’t really know what she meant. Maybe it was the oversized cardigans and long skirts she liked to wear. Or her habit of letting her mousy-brown hair fall forward to cover her face. Or that she spent most of her life with her face in a book.

Any of those would work.

“Wait. A strip club?” Dan asked, sounding like he was choking. “You want Jilly to work at a strip club?”

“Jilly?” Scott asked. “Our Jilly? Librarian Jilly? Who barely shows any ankle, even in the middle of summer, Jilly? You want her to strip?”

“I was a stripper once,” Mrs. Yards said. “Once I was hired to dance on this private yacht. Some rich royal owned it. Can’t say who it was, but he was a great tipper. And the food was amazing. That’s how I bought my house. But after that, I met my beloved Teddy. And he wasn’t fond of me stripping. So I just used to do private shows for him. Really got him going, especially when I tied him up and used a flogger on him.” She sighed. “Good times.”

Jilly and Scott gaped at her while Sasha giggled. Sometimes, it was hard to know whether what Mrs. Yards said was actually true or not.

“I could teach you how to use a flogger if you like, dearie,” she offered.

“Thanks, Mrs. Y. That would no doubt come in handy.” Although Jilly couldn’t imagine how. “But the truth is, I can’t dance. Plus, Scott is right, I can barely show off my ankle in the middle of summer so how, would I show . . . show . . .”

“Your boobs?” Sasha asked dryly. “It’s easy after a while. You haven’t got anything against stripping, have you?”

“What? No! Of course not. What you choose to do with your body is your choice. But I just don’t think I can do it. I’d probably fall on my face and show everyone my hoo-ha.”

“Well, that would be a way to get good tips,” Mrs. Y said.

She wasn’t joking.

“Seriously, I could teach you some moves.” Sasha leaned forward. “And I think you’d be better than you think you are. It’s really just like acting. You’re pretending to be someone else. You’re playing a role.”

Right . . . she could understand that.

“But pretending to be someone else isn’t always that easy. And what about the fact that I’m not very good-looking?”

They all stared at her.

“Not good-looking?” Sasha asked. “Didn’t I just tell you that you’re a knock-out? With the right outfit and makeup, you’ll be a huge hit.”

It was nice of her to say . . . but Jilly still didn’t believe it.

“Oh, I could help with the outfits!” Dan said. “You can fit into some of my Madam Dangerfield outfits. We’re about the same size.”

Jilly looked down at her boobs and hips, then over to Dan’s lack of boobs and hips.