Chapter Four
Mari
When the exotic dancer Laura had hired began to give me a lap dance, I almost fell backward out of my seat. My fellow bridesmaids hooted and hollered like a bunch of men at a cheap strip joint. I’d neglected to bring any dollar bills, but Jenna had handed me a stack with a wide grin before the party had started.
“Yeah, get up on her!” yelled Reagan. She was the youngest of the bridesmaids, and she always seemed to have a flask of booze on hand at every occasion. Breakfast: vodka in her coffee; lunch, gin in her Coke; dinner, straight rum. Yet she always seemed perfectly sober. I didn’t know whether to be concerned or impressed.
“Shake it!” Jenna screamed as the exotic dancer shimmied and turned to give me a view of his bare ass covered only by a gold G-string. It was
