Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 113710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 113710 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 569(@200wpm)___ 455(@250wpm)___ 379(@300wpm)
As I arrange the shelves behind the bar, I wonder who he’s meeting and what deals are being made. It isn’t my business. My concern should be the empty bar and the debt that will take me more than a lifetime to pay.
But I’ve only recently arrived in Carlisle, so I’m reluctant to leave. My unexpected happiness from my exchange with Camille and her father isn’t the only thing driving my desire to stay. It’s something far more important.
The music transitions to a slower song Mia uses for the more intimate sets, and my hope of performing tonight sinks into a deep pit. This is usually when I rush back to the dressing room to add the final touches to my outfit and makeup.
A shiver runs down my spine when Salvator sneaks up on me. He’s usually heavy-footed. Even after performing under speakers, dancers hear him coming from a mile away. It shows how deep in my thoughts I’ve been.
“What can I get you, Sal?” My tone is pleasant despite my wish to rake my nails down his face. I’m not being catty. I offered to dock half my pay the day I was late, but for some reason, he seems to have it out for me. His punishment has gone too far, and I’ll only hang around another day or two before moving on to another franchise.
He licks his cracked lips before edging closer to the bar. “Double scotch on the rocks.”
Nodding, I prepare his drink.
Brown liquor spills over the rim of the bottle when he unexpectedly adds, “And for you not to fuck this up for me.”
I crank my neck to him so fast I grow woozy. It only takes searching his eyes for half a minute to understand his request. He’s letting me back on the stage.
“Thank you, Sal. Thank you so much.”
After smothering his cheek with a sloppy kiss, I hurry back to the dressing room, the fringe of my bikini swaying with each step. I touch up my lipstick and then swap my waitstaff uniform for a dress that won’t last longer than a minute onstage.
Guests at this fine establishment don’t pay us for our dance moves or fashion sense.
As I wait for my cue behind the stage curtains, I reflect on everything I’ve had to do to get by. Will the end justify the means, or will the consequences of my choices catch up with me in the end?
Before I can search for an answer, the manager peeks her head through the dark curtains, startling me. “What are you doing here, Cici?”
I hook my thumb to the bar, my heart racing. “Salvator said I can dance.”
Celesta rolls her eyes. “Yeah… but not here. You booked the Viper Room.”
I balk, shocked. The Viper Room is the VIP section of the club. It was another one of Salvator’s grand ideas. Although they designed it for bachelor parties, its ten-thousand-dollar price tag for a thirty-minute set means it mostly sits empty. Once a month, you might get a handful of men willing to chip in a hundred dollars each for a private space and a dedicated bartender, but once they learn the cover charge is limited to one stripper, sixty percent cancel their reservation and sit in the main area.
Entry into this club is free. We simply charge an arm and a leg for each beverage they’re required to consume every thirty minutes.
“You want this, right?” Celesta asks, bringing my attention back to her. “They asked specifically for you.”
“Yes, of course.”
Nodding, I follow her to the room that only a few have seen inside. It has its own private entrance, disguised as a podiatrist’s office.
I’m not excited to bump and grind in front of a hundred eager men, but even if they’re stingy with their tips, I’ll walk away with at least fifty percent of the cover charge. This will push me above the goal I set for this month, and I still have six days left in the calendar month.
Outside a black mirrored door, Celesta turns to face me. “The lights will dim once your set is over. If the patrons need more time, they have to pay an extra fee. If they ask for anything you’re not comfortable with, give them the same request.” I smile with her when she murmurs, “Men’s egos become extremely small when their wallets are on the line.”
She’s telling me everything I already know. I’ve worked in this industry for over two years. I understand all the quirks and how to get the best results and the biggest payday from a performance.
“Ready?”
After a final adjustment to my costume, I nod and then step through the door that leads me directly onto the VIP stage. This stage is smaller than the main area of the club, but far more luxurious. Even the pole has a mirror shine.