His Dancer, His Chains novel · Chapter 17 of 24

Chapter 17: Her Whole Face

The directors looked down at their phones, and then they looked at me.

I did not have to look at mine.

The woman at the end of the table turned her screen around so I could see.

It was a gossip site I had seen a hundred times in the diner on slow nights.

The headline was in red.

"CEO'S WIFE WAS THE GIRL FROM THE STRIP CLUB."

Under it was a photograph of me on the stage of the Gilded Room, bare-shouldered, in the blue light, with my head thrown back.

It was my whole face, cropped close, and anybody who had ever met me could say my name.

Below the photograph there were nine more.

"A source at the club says she begged for the work," the article said. "We were told she didn't even have a stage name ready."

"The source asked to remain anonymous, but we can confirm he was the manager that night."

Someone in the room said, "Oh, no."

It was not unkind.

I think it was the old director.

"Cora," Rafferty said.

"I'm fine."

"You're not."

"I'm not," I said. "Give me a minute."

I stood up and went to the window and looked out at the river.

My phone would not stop.

A woman I had worked with at the staffing agency wrote, "Is this you??"

My old boss from the diner wrote nothing, and then he wrote, "Sorry, kid. Don't come in Saturday."

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