Page 7 of For Your Eyes Only
A lead weight drops through my stomach, and heat floods my eyes. “Oh, Bianca, I got you fired, too? I'm so sorry.” My heart beats like an ominous drum, and I’m so afraid. “What will we do now?”
“That’s why we have the good news,” she continues. “Franco got us a job that’s going to make us more money than we can imagine.”
Hesitating, I study the man strolling up behind her with his hands in his pockets and a smirk on his lips. Franco is attractive, with wavy, dark hair and a smooth, square jaw. I think he’s originally from Cuba, but I’ve only spoken to him a few times.
He’s always hanging around Bianca’s place watching us, calculating. I’m not sure how I feel about this announcement. Something in his smile puts me on my guard. He’s what my aunt would callragazzaccio, a naughty boy.
“What is this new job?”
“Dancing.” Bianca leans forward, tapping the tip of my nose with her finger before taking a long sip from her margarita. “No more sitting in a wading pool, turning into prunes in a stinky rubber costume for pennies. We’re going to bring in the big bucks now doing what we love—and on our own terms.”
I don’t like the sound of this. Every good opportunity I’ve been offered in this country has taken a turn. I need to find an evil eye and wear it quickly. “What kind of dancing? Salsa?”
“It can be whatever type of dance you like. Not only that, we’re moving out of my crummy apartment and into a condo overlooking the beach.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “How? I don’t have any money.”
And I already feel like a remora sleeping on her couch and eating her food.
“You’ll have plenty of money after we become cam girls.”
“No.” Michele straightens in his chair, and for the first time since we arrived on these shores, he turns macho. “Gia is not a cam girl.”
“Just keep your shirt on.” My friend holds out her hands.
“What’s a cam girl?” I’m trying to catch up.
Michele lowers his chin, leveling his black eyes on mine. “It’s a girl who performs in front of a camera. For money.”
I’m still not following what he means. “Performs… Like dances?”
“Like strips.”
An invisible hand squeezes my throat. “Oh, I don’t know, Bianca…”
“First of all,” my friend jumps in quickly, waving her hands, “it doesn’t have to be nude. Franco said we have complete control over our act. We decide how much or how little to do or show, and best of all, we keep eighty percent of our income.”
Michele shakes his head, pressing his full lips together. “It’s stripping, and the only way you make money is by taking it all off anddoing things.”
“How do you know so much?” Bianca argues. “When Gypsy Rose Lee started dancing, everyone said she had to strip, but she didn’t. She danced burlesque. She created a relationship with the audience, and she left them thinking they might be special and get more.”
Franco crosses his muscled arms, his voice smooth. “Cam girls aren’t necessarily strippers, but I do manage a strip club if you’d like to start there and build your audience.”
I don’t want to start there. I don’t want to do any of this.
“That’s where the next part of the equation enters,” he continues. “If you can build a following, you can make even more money on our subscription service Private Eyes.”
Bianca reaches across the table to squeeze my forearm. “It’s an amazing opportunity, Gia! Some of the girls make thousands of dollars a week! You came here to be a dancer, to live your dream. Let’s dance!”
“I didn’t dream of taking my clothes off.” My voice is quiet.
Slipping off my stool, I slide my palm back and forth over my stomach as I shake my head. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to poop on your parade or be thedowner Debbie. I want to help you, Bianca, but this isn’t my kind of thing. I’ll have to see if I can find another way. I know how to sew costumes. Maybe I can get a job as a seamstress or…”
“Gia, wait.” My friend jogs to catch up with me, and we walk out into the warm night.
The street here isn’t as crazy as South Beach, but the road is wide with restaurants and clubs dotted along both sides. The palm trees are wrapped in twinkle lights, and the constant breeze from the nearby ocean lifts our hair off our shoulders.
Bianca loops her arm through mine, and we follow the road along the beach.