said. "But what happens to some girls is—they try turnin' tricks, can't handle it, and take the next highest-payin' road, which is strippin'."
"Oh. Oh God," she murmured as the idea settled over her.
It shouldn't seem worse than prostitution, but she couldn't imagine taking her clothes off for a roomful of men. At least at Sophia's, there was some semblance of elegance. She shook her head. "I don't think Tina could be a stripper."
He narrowed his gaze on her, pointed but kind. "Did you think she could be a hooker?"
Another flood of ugly acceptance washed through her as she whispered her reply. "No."
"Then we best start checkin' some of these places out. The Playpen's the classiest in the Quarter, so if a girl knows anything about the business, she'd apply there first—and Tina's pretty enough to get hired on."
She began shaking her head. "Even so, I can't go into a place like that."
He lowered his chin, looked matter-of-fact. "Not a big deal, chère. There'll be other women inside."
"Naked ones."
When she least expected it, he laughed. "No, not just them. There'll be couples, groups of people. More men than women, sure. But otherwise, almost like any other bar."
"Really?"
He gave her a gentle nod, and only then did she realize he'd never dropped her hand and now stroked his thumb gendy back and forth over the top, trying to comfort her. "Hate to tell you this, but it's not like on TV. Not just a seedy place where old guys in bad sport coats hang out. It's more like ... a tourist attraction."
Unfortunately, his attempt at comfort couldn't override her shock. She opened her eyes wider, feeling as if she'd been born in some other universe and couldn't begin to comprehend the things happening in this one.
"It's like Eddie told you, chère —you're in the Big Easy now. Some things are just different here."
Not that she had the first idea what a strip club was like at home, either. She'd just assumed they were patronized strictly by men. She took a deep breath and looked into Jake's warm brown eyes. Despite herself, for some reason, she trusted him. "So you're saying men aren't going to gape at me if I go in this place with you?"
"Right, chère. You're not what they came to see. And I wouldn't insist so much, but you're gonna recognize your sister a lot quicker than me. Same reason I took you everyplace else, too. Figured there might be questions only you could answer, or that somebody might say somethin' I wouldn't hear in the same way as you—know what I mean?"
She nodded, the night air seeming to thicken still more around them. You're in the Big Easy now—don't be a prude. Do what you have to do to find your sister. "All right—let's go." Not wanting to give herself a chance to back out, she grabbed his hand and started briskly through the throng of Bourbon Street partyers until they reached the bright lights and cherry red awning of the Playpen.
To her surprise, the place was large, crisp, and clean-looking. Two men in suits stood at the open door. Between them, in the distance, she caught sight of a woman in silhouette, dancing around a pole. Her heart dropped to her stomach, but she worked hard not to hesitate, dragging Jake right up the red-carpeted steps.
This was even harder than going to Chez Sophia the first time. Perhaps due to the abject fear of walking through the door to see her baby sister swaying naked on a stage. If she'd found her at Sophia's, it wouldn't have seemed much worse than spotting her at a cocktail party. She suddenly missed the veil of dignity, however thin, that hung over Sophia's third floor.
"Good evening, folks," a large, bearded man said. "Welcome to the Playpen. Ten dollars for you, sir. The lady gets in free."
She watched nervously as Jake peeled a ten from his wallet, then placed his hand at the small of her back, gently propelling her onward.
Inside, red and pink lights swirled, but soon her eyes adjusted, revealing, to her shock, that the room possessed more than
"Oh. Oh God," she murmured as the idea settled over her.
It shouldn't seem worse than prostitution, but she couldn't imagine taking her clothes off for a roomful of men. At least at Sophia's, there was some semblance of elegance. She shook her head. "I don't think Tina could be a stripper."
He narrowed his gaze on her, pointed but kind. "Did you think she could be a hooker?"
Another flood of ugly acceptance washed through her as she whispered her reply. "No."
"Then we best start checkin' some of these places out. The Playpen's the classiest in the Quarter, so if a girl knows anything about the business, she'd apply there first—and Tina's pretty enough to get hired on."
She began shaking her head. "Even so, I can't go into a place like that."
He lowered his chin, looked matter-of-fact. "Not a big deal, chère. There'll be other women inside."
"Naked ones."
When she least expected it, he laughed. "No, not just them. There'll be couples, groups of people. More men than women, sure. But otherwise, almost like any other bar."
"Really?"
He gave her a gentle nod, and only then did she realize he'd never dropped her hand and now stroked his thumb gendy back and forth over the top, trying to comfort her. "Hate to tell you this, but it's not like on TV. Not just a seedy place where old guys in bad sport coats hang out. It's more like ... a tourist attraction."
Unfortunately, his attempt at comfort couldn't override her shock. She opened her eyes wider, feeling as if she'd been born in some other universe and couldn't begin to comprehend the things happening in this one.
"It's like Eddie told you, chère —you're in the Big Easy now. Some things are just different here."
Not that she had the first idea what a strip club was like at home, either. She'd just assumed they were patronized strictly by men. She took a deep breath and looked into Jake's warm brown eyes. Despite herself, for some reason, she trusted him. "So you're saying men aren't going to gape at me if I go in this place with you?"
"Right, chère. You're not what they came to see. And I wouldn't insist so much, but you're gonna recognize your sister a lot quicker than me. Same reason I took you everyplace else, too. Figured there might be questions only you could answer, or that somebody might say somethin' I wouldn't hear in the same way as you—know what I mean?"
She nodded, the night air seeming to thicken still more around them. You're in the Big Easy now—don't be a prude. Do what you have to do to find your sister. "All right—let's go." Not wanting to give herself a chance to back out, she grabbed his hand and started briskly through the throng of Bourbon Street partyers until they reached the bright lights and cherry red awning of the Playpen.
To her surprise, the place was large, crisp, and clean-looking. Two men in suits stood at the open door. Between them, in the distance, she caught sight of a woman in silhouette, dancing around a pole. Her heart dropped to her stomach, but she worked hard not to hesitate, dragging Jake right up the red-carpeted steps.
This was even harder than going to Chez Sophia the first time. Perhaps due to the abject fear of walking through the door to see her baby sister swaying naked on a stage. If she'd found her at Sophia's, it wouldn't have seemed much worse than spotting her at a cocktail party. She suddenly missed the veil of dignity, however thin, that hung over Sophia's third floor.
"Good evening, folks," a large, bearded man said. "Welcome to the Playpen. Ten dollars for you, sir. The lady gets in free."
She watched nervously as Jake peeled a ten from his wallet, then placed his hand at the small of her back, gently propelling her onward.
Inside, red and pink lights swirled, but soon her eyes adjusted, revealing, to her shock, that the room possessed more than
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