Georgia [H.S.]

Only Girl

It was a Friday night at Fortune, and Georgia was feeling off. She was up on stage, looking for the man who had been enjoying her company in the backrooms every couple of nights for the past few weeks - but he wasn't there. Her heart cracked in her chest when her eyes didn't connect with his moss-colored ones as she searched the crowd, and she couldn't help but wonder if he would ever show again.

Once she finished her set, she rushed off the stage in frustration. She had still performed well, but her mind just wasn't in it - not when she had guilt nagging in the pit of her stomach.

Harry usually came to see her every Tuesday and Friday, sometimes Saturday as well if he was free. It had been this way for almost a month now, and every single time she felt like they were getting closer to each other. They shared more touches, and sometimes Georgia would be laid back on the couch - legs draped over Harry's lap as he massaged her feet. She would try to return the favor by offering to give him a back massage, but Harry would never let her.

He never expected anything in return from her.

She thought that all those years ago, with that dreadful married man, was when she had felt the most comfortable at Fortune. That was until Harry came along, and she realized that she wasn't sure if she had ever felt more comfortable around a man, other than her grandfather, in her life.

Georgia had a few relationships throughout highschool, but nothing serious at all. While taking care of her grandmother, she didn't have time to date anyone, so it wasn't like she was having any type of interaction with men then either.

It didn't take her long to realize just how different Harry was overall. He was so gentle with her, and always made sure that she was comfortable when taking another step - whether it be digging a little more into her personal life, or allowing himself to caress her a little more than usual. All of their touches so far had been friendly, sometimes a little flirty, but nothing had ventured into the sexual territory.

Their perfect, little genuine bubble ended up bursting the past Tuesday night, and Georgia had no one to blame but herself.

It was nearing the end of their time while they both finished up their cocktails when Harry turned to look into Georgia's eyes. The moments where their eyes connected had started to take her breath away every single time - no matter how much Georgia tried to fight those feelings.

"Do you enjoy working here?" Harry asked, bringing the hand not holding his glass up to toy with his bottom lip.

"Of course I do," Georgia responded with a shrug, taking the last sip of her drink. "I make a lot of money here, which means that I don't ever have to worry about going without anything. Cass takes good care of me, and he cares. Most girls who do the same thing that I do at other clubs aren't as fortunate."

"I understand that you make good money, but are you happy? Like actually happy?"

Georgia's eyebrows narrowed as he spoke, and she let out a short laugh. "What is this? What are you getting at?"

"I hope you're not getting the wrong idea, Georgia, I was just asking if-"

"No, I get what you're asking," she stated harshly as she stood up, clutching the rocks glass in her hand. "You think I'm some woman who needs to be saved? That I'm working here against my will, or that I don't know how to properly leave without consequences? That's not the case at all, Harry, and now I guess I'm realizing why you've been spending so much time with me. You should tone down your savior complex."

Georgia didn't give him any time to answer as she walked out of her backroom and down the hall. She was so flustered, and it was taking everything in her not to throw her glass at the wall knowing that she'd find satisfaction in watching how the pieces would shatter.