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“Why wait for what?” Caro says, wrapping her arms around Faye’s waist and nuzzling into her neck.
“Let’s go see what’s what. Maybe fill out an application?” I say, nodding in the direction of the strip club across the street.
Caro follows my gaze and squeals. “Oooh! Titties before noon!” Caro says.
“Uh, it’s almost two o’clock,” I say.
“Even better! Everyone knows the two p.m. shift is the big leagues,” Caro says.
Faye has a deer-in-the-headlights look. But her jaw is set and I can see she doesn’t want to admit she’s not doing this.
“Sounds fantastic,” she says. She pushes through the door and Caro dances after her. Only Zach remains next to me, staring out the glass door at the girls who are trying to drop it like it’s hot. Both look off-balance and lukewarm at best.
“Bro,” he says, slapping a firm hand against my shoulder. “Looks like you’re in love with a stripper.”
“Fuck off,” I say, and leave to the sound of his cackling laughter.
17
faye
“So that’swhy there are no windows,” I say, taking in the dark room.
The club is called Pinky’s and they seem to have taken it to the extreme: the entire room is draped in varying shades of pink velvet. I’m sure it’s supposed to look sexy, but it really just looks like an inflamed vulva.
The space thrums with the smell of electric sex and bleach. Though I’m not sure which scent is more disturbing. I’m less clear as to which one sobers me up.
Well, not completely. I’m still pretty clumsy as I walk down a short ramp toward the stage where Caro is already waving bills.
“Do you just carry those on you all the time?” I ask, feeling the room tilt a touch.
“I was a Girl Scout,” she says with a little shimmy.
“Maybe let’s start outside the splash zone,” Zeke says in my ear. His lips brush my lobe and I shiver at the sensation that travels down my neck. My nipples pebble and I wonder if he sees them. But it’s dark, too dark to know whether it’s night or day.
He places his hands on my shoulders and steers me to a small round booth. I scoot to the center for a better view. He chuckles down at me and then slides in next to me.
“It’s sort of empty in here, isn’t it?” I ask, looking around.
“What?” He leans closer, giving me his ear.
“Where are all the dirty old drunks?” I speak directly into his ear, feeling the heat from his body and inhaling his spicy, fresh scent. It cuts through the heady wrongness of the strip club, and with the pounding music and dark, sensual lighting, it’s as if we’re in a small bubble of our own.
His nose brushes the shell of my ear as he whispers, “It’s a little early. They’ll be here later.”
His voice vibrates along my jawbone sending a heated shudder down my spine. I lick my lower lip and watch his eyes flicker to it. His throat bobs as the music changes.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome to the stage, the luscious Veronica!”
“Here we go!” I say into his ear with a nervous laugh. “This could be my new work wife!”
He narrows his eyes and I lean back in, getting a little too close and brushing his earlobe with my lips. He stills as if waiting for something else to happen.
“You know, when I start working here.”
He chuckles and then looks up at the stage as the lights change. I follow his gaze and see a beautiful, curvy, redhead, sauntering to center stage. She is dressed in a red, sheer, fur-trimmed robe, and her hair is styled like an old Hollywood star. She looks like a red-headed Veronica Lake, and her name suddenly makes sense.
She slithers toward the pole at center stage to the rhythm of the sultry music, and then swings around it, casting a flirty glance at the audience. As she slowly unravels herself from the pole, she turns to the audience, running a red painted fingernail from her collarbone down, between her breasts, to where her flimsy robe is tied with an inadequate ribbon.
