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“Still working on your book?” A coffee barista sets my drink on the table.
“Yeah.”
“Are you on a lunch break from work? I never see you here this late in the afternoon.”
“I don’t have a job right now. I’m unemployed.”
“Oh...” He runs a hand through his hair. “You know, we’re hiring. Management is pretty lenient and they’d probably let you work on your book during the slow days, especially if you worked in the book section.”
I smile, thinking that maybe this is where I should be working—not in some sweat and smoke filled strip club.
“There are good benefits too,” he says, taking a seat. “You get two free books a month, free coffee during your shift, and you get to read a lot of the books before they hit the shelves.
“Is it full time?”
He nods. “If that’s what you want.”
“How much does it pay? If you don’t mind me asking that is.”
“Of course not.” He smiles and crosses his arms. “It’s a pretty good hourly rate. It’s eight fifty.”
Did he just say eight fifty? As in eight dollars and fifty cents an hour?!
“What do you think?” He smiles. “Sounds good, right?”
Welp...There goes my need to “think” about working at The Phoenix.
“Yeah, sounds amazing. I’ll get an application on my way out.”
He looks overjoyed as he stands up, as he looks over his shoulder and smiles while walking away.
I shut my laptop and pull out my notebook, scribbling a few things I need to address: How the hell will I hide The Phoenix from Virginia and Henry for the long term? Will this shit be worth it? Do they really expect me to be able to learn how to strip in two weeks? Why did I lie about knowing how to dance? I only took three semesters of ballet in high school and I was average...
When my list of questions reaches the number twenty, I drop my pen.
Half of them don’t have any answers because I won’t know unless I take the job...
Chapter 7
It’s Friday. Four thirty in the afternoon.
I’m pulling into the parking lot of The Phoenix—telling the security guard, once again, that I have a reason to be here.
He waits for me to park my car, and then he personally escorts me inside. As if he’s annoyed with my presence, he tells me to wait for someone named Robyn before he disappears.
I stand in the empty hallway for a while—checking and rechecking my watch, hoping Michael won’t think I declined the position because this Robyn person hasn’t come for me yet. Just as I’m about to venture off on my own and find my way to his office, a woman wearing a skintight white dress steps out of the room across from me.
Drop dead gorgeous, her skin is the color of caramel and her eyes are a soft mix of light hazel and green.
“You’re the new girl, right?” she asks, but she doesn’t give me a chance to respond. “Follow me and pay close attention because I never repeat myself.” She walks me down the hall and onto a small elevator.
It rises one level and then she steps off. “We’re a little shorthanded this week, so your audition will be next Friday.”
“What? I thought I got two weeks...”
“Well, tough shit. You don’t have to do the pole since you’d probably fall off anyway; we can teach you that later. You just have to serve drinks, but no sipping. I’ve heard about you.” She rolls her eyes. “You’ll also need to give lap-dances. We had a last minute bachelor party that was booked this morning, so you can either agree to audition within a week or leave. What’s it going to be?”
“I’ll stay.”
“Good.” She shows me into a lavish room that features velvet chaises and plush couches. There’s a small stage and a pole a few feet off the ground near the back and a wet bar.
She hits a few switches on the wall and the lights dim. A mid-tempo song begins to play, and she plops down on the chaise directly in front of me.
“Okay.” She sighs. “Show me what you got.”
“Excuse me?”
“Dance.”
“Now?”
“No. Tomorrow.” She rolls her eyes.
I stand still, completely unsure of what to do. I’ve never danced for anyone before.
“Pretend I’m a stockbroker who just told his wife he’s in Alabama for a business trip. I’m desperate to have a beautiful woman in my lap, I’ve got hundreds of dollars in my breast-pocket, and you want me to give you every single one. Dance.”
She spreads her legs as if she’s a man, and then she leans back with her lips pursed, looking as if she’s ten seconds away from telling me to leave.
