ballerina with a company in Reno, that’s all I know. I’ll text you her photo. So you’ll do it?”
“Yeah, I’ll do it. No problem.”
He winced. No problem . Saying those words almost guaranteed there would be a problem.
two
The bass thumped through the strip joint, slow and steady like a heartbeat. The club wasn’t too crowded because it was a weeknight, but she’d still walk away with at least three hundred in tips.
She grinned when she saw the familiar face of one of her regulars—she’d walk home with four hundred tonight. He always booked at least one private lap dance, sometimes two. She’d have to split the lap dance money with the bouncer keeping guard, but it was money well shared.
As far as clubs went, the Lollipop Lounge wasn’t too bad. Plenty of security, well-made costumes, and women like her who actually knew how to dance. Burlesque would have been more Emma’s style because it felt more artistic and expressive than stripping, but stripping brought in more money. Actually, she didn’t know about the money. But she did know the local burlesque halls required auditions, and she wasn’t ready for that, not again.
So she spun twice and chucked her shirt into the audience, which erupted in cheers.
Right before she turned to face rear stage for the next song, though, she saw another familiar face.
Aw, hell. Dan was here.
He’d been banned after she broke up with him, because he couldn’t stop coming by and harassing her before, during, and after her numbers.
The next song started, a hypnotic techno beat with the words, “Hot Sexy Player” repeated every fourth measure. One, two-and, three, four.
She focused on the pole, on keeping her muscles taut and feeling the rhythm of the music. Dollar bills littered the stage, and she shimmied over to where a muscular man sat with a huge stack of them. He was a regular, and she trusted he wouldn’t get too handsy if she got close.
She executed a perfect split and waited while he tucked a twenty into the side of her thong. When she stretched up, she caught the eye of the bouncer, Nathaniel. A quick flick of her chin toward where Dan sat, and the problem would be over.
But Dan wasn’t there anymore.
As she sauntered back to the pole, she searched the room again. There, at a different table. Nathaniel was watching her now, not because he was impressed by her dancing, but to see where her attention went. Immediately he strode to Dan’s table and leaned close to say something.
Dan’s fist shot out, but Nathaniel caught it in one smooth motion and twisted Dan’s arm behind his back.
Emma continued to dance, to “shake her thang,” as her friend Annette would say, confident now that Dan was gone.
*
Nathaniel walked her out after her shift. “I insist on walking you to your car.”
Emma winced. “I walked.”
“The fuck, Emma?” he said.
“It’s only ten blocks.”
“Basic safety and security measures. You don’t walk anywhere. Especially not in a city full of your heartbroken throw-backs. I’m driving you.”
She nodded meekly, but he was back to being friends again as they drove, chatting about the latest movie he and his boyfriend had seen, and wondering if January would bring them some snow.
“I know a guy looking for a roommate,” he said. “I gave him your address and he said he’d come by later. Is that okay? I can tell him you’re not interested if you’re set on having a woman for a roomie.”
“You trust him?” Emma asked. Not waiting for an answer, she said, “Of course you do. Then yeah, it’s fine.”
“He’s a bit of a pill, but he’s dependable.”
Not a glowing recommendation, but Emma couldn’t afford to be picky.
After thanking Nathaniel for the ride, Emma walked toward her building. Maybe she should put another ad in the paper for a roommate. There hadn’t been much interest after her last one, although she had a voicemail waiting on her phone from an unfamiliar number.
The complex was
“Yeah, I’ll do it. No problem.”
He winced. No problem . Saying those words almost guaranteed there would be a problem.
two
The bass thumped through the strip joint, slow and steady like a heartbeat. The club wasn’t too crowded because it was a weeknight, but she’d still walk away with at least three hundred in tips.
She grinned when she saw the familiar face of one of her regulars—she’d walk home with four hundred tonight. He always booked at least one private lap dance, sometimes two. She’d have to split the lap dance money with the bouncer keeping guard, but it was money well shared.
As far as clubs went, the Lollipop Lounge wasn’t too bad. Plenty of security, well-made costumes, and women like her who actually knew how to dance. Burlesque would have been more Emma’s style because it felt more artistic and expressive than stripping, but stripping brought in more money. Actually, she didn’t know about the money. But she did know the local burlesque halls required auditions, and she wasn’t ready for that, not again.
So she spun twice and chucked her shirt into the audience, which erupted in cheers.
Right before she turned to face rear stage for the next song, though, she saw another familiar face.
Aw, hell. Dan was here.
He’d been banned after she broke up with him, because he couldn’t stop coming by and harassing her before, during, and after her numbers.
The next song started, a hypnotic techno beat with the words, “Hot Sexy Player” repeated every fourth measure. One, two-and, three, four.
She focused on the pole, on keeping her muscles taut and feeling the rhythm of the music. Dollar bills littered the stage, and she shimmied over to where a muscular man sat with a huge stack of them. He was a regular, and she trusted he wouldn’t get too handsy if she got close.
She executed a perfect split and waited while he tucked a twenty into the side of her thong. When she stretched up, she caught the eye of the bouncer, Nathaniel. A quick flick of her chin toward where Dan sat, and the problem would be over.
But Dan wasn’t there anymore.
As she sauntered back to the pole, she searched the room again. There, at a different table. Nathaniel was watching her now, not because he was impressed by her dancing, but to see where her attention went. Immediately he strode to Dan’s table and leaned close to say something.
Dan’s fist shot out, but Nathaniel caught it in one smooth motion and twisted Dan’s arm behind his back.
Emma continued to dance, to “shake her thang,” as her friend Annette would say, confident now that Dan was gone.
*
Nathaniel walked her out after her shift. “I insist on walking you to your car.”
Emma winced. “I walked.”
“The fuck, Emma?” he said.
“It’s only ten blocks.”
“Basic safety and security measures. You don’t walk anywhere. Especially not in a city full of your heartbroken throw-backs. I’m driving you.”
She nodded meekly, but he was back to being friends again as they drove, chatting about the latest movie he and his boyfriend had seen, and wondering if January would bring them some snow.
“I know a guy looking for a roommate,” he said. “I gave him your address and he said he’d come by later. Is that okay? I can tell him you’re not interested if you’re set on having a woman for a roomie.”
“You trust him?” Emma asked. Not waiting for an answer, she said, “Of course you do. Then yeah, it’s fine.”
“He’s a bit of a pill, but he’s dependable.”
Not a glowing recommendation, but Emma couldn’t afford to be picky.
After thanking Nathaniel for the ride, Emma walked toward her building. Maybe she should put another ad in the paper for a roommate. There hadn’t been much interest after her last one, although she had a voicemail waiting on her phone from an unfamiliar number.
The complex was
Similar Books
