Andrea wants to slap Andrew across the face. She hates the way he’s looking at her baby sister as if he wants to taste her. She wants to get up, grab Gabrielle and take her far away from this place. But she’s not the only one with that idea. Half a dozen men crowd the foot of the stage and shout up at Gabrielle.
“Little beauty, what’s your name?” one shouts. “Your little feet are so beautiful—can I lick them?”
“Hey little girl,” shouts another. “How much does it take for a night with you? I’d spend all my money on you tonight.”
“Does the white dress mean you’re a virgin?” shouts another. “I’d love to take your cherry.”
A drunk man pushes the others aside and shouts, “I’ve never seen anything like you. I’ll give you ten million dollars for another private show, what do you say?”
Andrea
