Right Uppercut

Chapter 7

Obviously, I’ve fought before in front of drooling men. I’ve taken and thrown more punches than I like to think about. I usually try to fight clean, but I’ve suffered some scratches and bites that I have returned, though I’m not proud to say.

But the fight on Friday night was different than usual. I should’ve known that, since it paid bigger than any other fight hosted in the warehouse.

I expected it to be like any other fight, where I just showed up, sat in a cold, metal folding chair, somewhere out of the way so that the audience wouldn’t see me. I was okay with that. I did it for the money, not the attention.

That night worked a little differently. All of the sudden, Harvey had “dressing rooms” for us girls, decked out with new mirrors lined up against the wall, little make-shift vanities. Nothing fancy, but a lot more compared to a dark corner. I inspected myself in the small mirror, seeing the wear and tear of this past week in my eyes. Well, in the bags under my eyes.

“What is this?” A loud voice shrilled from behind me. I turned around to see Honey (yes, she seriously introduced herself to me as Honey).

“Hey,” I greeted her quietly.

She plopped into one of the cushioned chairs and looked around in wonder before her brown eyed gaze landed on me. “Well, don’t we get the special treatment?”

I snorted. Yeah, it looked nicer than what we were usually given, but the paint was still peeling and chipping, there was a hole in the wall, and it had a faint hint of mildew in the air.

Then Bree, Gabby, and Raina entered the room. See, I didn’t really associate with the other girls, but Honey was friendly to everyone, while I separated myself from the rest. The less attachments, the safer.

“Hey, girls!” Honey called out with a wave, making her bracelets jingle. “Ooh, Raina, did you dye your hair? I love it!”

And she was up out of her chair and entering her comfort zone with the other girls. I returned to looking at my reflection and sighed. That’s when I noticed the hangers on the opposite wall.

Gulping, I stood up and advanced to the covered hangers. I noticed that they had each of our names scrawled onto little white cards. I found the one with my name and zipped it open. Inside were two tiny pieces of hot pink, sequined fabric.

You’ve got to be kidding me.

I tore the hanger off the wall and marched out of the room in search of anyone who would tell me that I didn’t have to wear this. If I wanted to dress like a stripper in front of a bunch of people, I would’ve joined a strip club.

I stormed into Harvey’s office hastily. Breathless from fury, I held up the tiny outfit. “What is this?!”

He looked up from his phone, squinting his eyes at me before his mouth spread into a smile. “Oh, I thought you’d girls like some new attire.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Excuse me?”

He leaned back in his chair and folded his hands behind his head. “That’s what you’ll be wearing tonight. It’s a bit more professional for our more professional audience.”

“Professional?” I repeated and shook the outfit in my hand. “Harvey, I don’t think this would even cover my big toe, never mind my boobs or ass.”

Harvey laughed then leaned forward into his desk, scrolling through his phone again. “That’s the point, hun.”

My mouth gaped open before I sputtered, “But… I didn’t sign up for some strip tease. I’m here to fight.”