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I press send and then toss the phone back down, not bothering to check it when it vibrates again. If I am going to get this done and get to the club by ten, I can't afford to stand around texting Lo who will continue to text me as long as I continue to answer.
****
I pull into the lot behind the club a little after nine thirty. While I really don't want to work tonight, especially with it being a Friday, one of the clubs busiest nights, I also know that I need the money and double time is too sweet of a deal to pass up. I can suck it up for one night if it means I will make the money I would normally make in two.
I enter through the back with my key and then immediately head to Josh's office for my schedule for the night. Each dancer has a rotation as to when she dances and when she is open to work the floor and/or do private dances. Since I don't normally work on Friday, I have no idea what rotation he will need me in.
I knock lightly on his office door and wait a good thirty seconds before peeking inside. It's evident that he is not here the moment I open the door. Pulling it shut again, I head back towards my dressing room but before I make it inside, Lo's voice grabs me from behind.
“You made it.” She sings, bouncing towards me as I turn to face her.
“Yeah. I was looking for Josh. I need my rotation for the night.” I say, confused by the devilish expression that crosses her face. “What?”
“You aren't in the rotation tonight. You have been booked for a private party.” She says, her smile growing wider. “Didn't you get my text?” She asks, reminding me that my phone signaled a new message after I agreed to come in and I never checked it.
Shaking my head no, she rolls her eyes at me and then grabs my arm and pushes me through my dressing room door. I spot my outfit for the night immediately and have to force down the hard knot that has formed at the base of my throat. A barely there red nighty is draped across the back of my chair with a pair of thongs, matching garters and white stockings. It's a little more risque than I am used to wearing, that's for sure.
“Why would Josh book me for a private without asking me?” I ask, turning to face her.
“Because you were requested.” She says, knowing that I can't deny a party request anymore than I could deny getting on stage in the main room, it's part of my job. Though I will admit, while I don't really like dancing for parties, I also know I am being paid double, which means I get double of my normal private party rate. If my math is right, that equals out to be about two thousand dollars for this evening.
“But I wasn't even supposed to be here tonight.” I interject.
“It was just booked this afternoon. That's why Josh needed you to come in and offered to pay you double.” She says, picking up the red thin material and handing it to me.
Private parties are usually two hours in length and take place in the party room near the entrance of the club. It's almost like a mini club inside the club. Members usually get a private party when they are hosting out of town business associates and clients that have been granted temporary access. It allows them to show their out of towners a good time, while still maintaining the secrecy of the clubs clientele, as the party room is cut off from the rest of the club.
I have only done a couple of parties since I started working here. It's not that there's really that big of a difference between the party room and the main floor but something about being secluded from the rest of the club makes me squeamish.
Once I am dressed and have my hair and make-up to damn near perfection, I take the back hall that leads to an entrance to the stage in the party room. Wishing I could talk to Josh before I start, having no real idea of who I am dealing with, I take a deep breath and decide to just go ahead and find out myself.
Walking out onto the stage, the room is dimly lit and contains, from what I can see, five men, all relaxing comfortably in the plush red chairs that sit in a line directly in front of the stage. The noise of my red heels vibrates off the walls around me and announces my arrival before I am really ready to.
Making my way to the edge of the stage, I spot Josh at the private bar pouring drinks. We must be short tonight if Josh is tending bar. And while I am surprised to see him here, I am also relieved. Having him here makes me feel more comfortable.
Or at least it did, until I turn my eyes back to the men in front of me and realize that the one sitting dead center to where I am standing is none other than Mr. Bentley Reed.
