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ChapterOne
GINGER
“I’m twenty-three years old, Mason, not eighty-three,” I sighed and looked out of the window at the scene below. “My eyesight is perfectly fine, and it washim,I know it was.”
“Do you want me to come back to town?” the man on the other end of the line inquired, sounding concerned but…pre-occupied. Of course, that was because he was. He had Lacy out on some island out in the Pacific and had no plans of actually coming back anytime soon.
“No, I don’t. I just wanted to vent a little. Why would he be sneaking around my club?” I tapped my foot in thin air, my crossed legs a sign of how tense I was.
“Because he’s a moron?” Mason drawled, contempt oozing from every word.
“Well, duh! Of course, he is,” I snapped back, my patience thinner than microfiber. But none of this was Mason’s fault and I was monopolizing his time. It was late on his little island of love, but early in my part of the world. He was ready for bed with the love of his life, while I was just starting my day. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t snap at you.”
“It’s fine. Damien being back in the picture is bound to make you tense.” Mason said, offering forgiveness easily. That wasn’t like him, but Lacyhadchanged him to a degree. “We’ll just hope he fucks off and goes back to whichever rock he crawled out from under.”
“Yes, we will,” I growled, but didn’t mean it to sound so aggressive. I hate disruptions to my life. “Listen, I have an interview to do, so I’m going to stop whining and do this podcast thing, okay?”
“Trying to be a TikTok star, are you?” Mason asked, a laugh in his voice taking the sting out of his words.
“Not at all, I don’t even have the app, it’s some website about women in business. I thought I’d give it a try, though I expect there will be some horrible questions I’ll have to tiptoe around.”
“Good luck with that, I don’t envy you. Why did you agree to it, by the way?”
“Because I want other women to know that we can succeed, of course.” I laughed even though I wasn’t sure that was really true.
“And which business will you be talking about? Your club or your writing?” Mason prodded, even though we’d been on the tail end of the call for a few minutes now.
“The club, of course. I’ll mention that I write, in passing, somewhere along the way, but I won’t out myself.” Outing myself would be a disaster, one I didn’t want to think about. Ever.
“Okay, well, be careful with it then. Some of those interviewers can have you spilling your guts before you know it. Don’t volunteer anything,” Mason advised, a normal thing coming from him. He’d always treated me like a kid sister he grew up not knowing he had. “I have to go now, Lacy’s calling for me.”
“Okay. Thanks for being there and have a good night.” I grimaced, not really liking the fact that I’d called him to complain when it was really late there. “Take care.”
“I hope the interview goes well, and that you have a good day.” Mason said before he hung up, quite eager to get back to the delicately beautiful Lacy.
I cringed when I heard a chirp on my laptop and knew it was time to do the interview. I wished I hadn’t agreed to it, but the time for regrets was past and I needed to focus on not flubbing this whole thing.
“Are you ready to be introduced, Ginger?” A smooth, female voice asked, and I nodded before I decided verbalizing my agreement was necessary. I wasn’t with it, and this was probably going to go very badly. “So long as you stick to the terms I agreed to. No using my real name and no naming of my club.”
“We wouldn’t dream of revealing either one, Ginger. We’re here to talk about success stories, not dox you, honey.” The smooth voice, as warm as mulled wine, said on the other end of the call. “Linda’s just introducing you, we’ll be live in a second. Ready?”
“Ready,” I answered, running my palms down the legs of my microfiber pajamas. I wasn’t normally the kind to be nervous, but I’d never done an interview before.
“Welcome to our feature guest tonight, Sarah. Sarah owns and operates an adults only club here in Chicago. And you’re only 23, Alexa told me…,” Linda paused, but it was only to catch a breath. “It’s amazing that you’ve done so well for yourself.”
“Thanks, Linda. Yeah, I suppose it is, but it didn’t come without a lot of hard work and sacrifice. I had a few backers when I started the club, but now, I’m the sole owner and it took me a while to get to that point.” I tried to keep it simple, no going into too much detail necessary here.
“Now, Sarah, you’re not just the owner of a club, are you? I hear you write novels as well. Can you tell me about those?” The other woman, Alexa, asked.
“Hi, Alexa, yes, I’m a writer too, it’s another income stream for me, though the publishing industry is harder to break into than the club scene.” I laughed softly, pausing to gather my thoughts. Alexa took that opportunity to break into the conversation.
“But do you write about what happens in the club? I mean, you’re running a business that is smack dab in the middle of the sex industry. Do you exploit your workers?” Alexa asked, digging in the knife with a twist as she asked her final question.
I could have responded with anger, let the dig get to me, but I kept my cool, relying on several years of dealing with assholes at the club, and in the publishing industry, to get me through it. “What exactly do you mean, Alexa?”
“I mean, do you force them to give you a certain percentage of their tips, do you make them work when they’re sick? Do you use the exploits at the club in your books?” Alexa was well into her line of questioning now and I smiled, though she couldn’t see how brittle that smile was.
“I do get a certain percentage of the tips, but it’s only so much up to a certain number. After that, they can keep whatever they get as tips. That’s my dancers. Now, the other staff get a wage, a wage well above the average in the city and they are all offered insurance benefits, which you won’t find in most clubs in the same industry.” I paused, but only to breathe in, cutting off whatever Alexa was about to rebut with. “I don’t exploit my workers, at all. If a woman wants to dance, but she isn’t cut out for it, I tell her. I’m not cruel about it, I just offer her a job in another position at the club. If they want to leave the job for a while, that’s cool too. There’s always someone waiting to fill in or take over another role. And do I write about them? Vaguely.”
