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“Awesome.” I sigh, turning my attention forward. My last dance was over two hours ago and at that time, business was not much busier than normal. Climbing the stairs that lead to the stage, I stand to the side of the back curtain and wait for the third beat of “Chandelier” by Sia to come through the speakers before stepping out onto the stage.
Like most dances, I pay very little attention to the audience in front of me as I cross the stage. Taking slow calculated steps to the beat of the music, I grab the pole just as the climactic chorus of the song bounces off the walls around me.
Gripping one hand above the other, I climb up the pole about two feet from the top and lock my legs around the cool metal. Leaning back, I reach my arms above my head and lock my hands around the pole just under my head.
This is a new song to my rotation and I have gone over the routine countless times in my head but I never know how it's really going to work until I get out here and just do it. Most dancers just come out and rub all over themselves while they slink around the stage. Some are very talented using the pole. But very few actually plan routines like I do.
I allow my body to slide down the pole a few inches before releasing my hands and locking my legs in a way that allows me to spin upside down on the pole a few times before re-clasping my hands and flipping my body down the pole, only to catch myself upright by locking my legs again. My heart beats rapidly in my chest as I continue to work the pole, flipping myself upside down again and then eventually sliding far enough down that I am able to bend backwards and place my hands on the floor before kicking off the pole and walking over into a standing position.
I try my damnedest not to smile at what I was just able to do as I stalk to the end of the stage and drop to my knees, allowing my hands to skirt down my bare sides before hitching my fingers in the band of my boy shirt underwear, pulling them out teasingly and then releasing them again.
It's only then that I look out over the crowd, my movements faltering slightly as I take in the amount of eyes on me. Kat was right. The club is unusually busy at this late hour, as nearly every seat in the house is currently occupied by a member and from what I can tell, I have captured the attention of all of them. Specifically, an older gentleman that I don't recognize, who is standing just to the left of the stage, reaching out to trail his finger along my ankle when I go into a straddle.
Twisting my head towards him, I give him a wicked smile and then tisk my finger back and forth. The action is playful and he seems to take it as such but before I even have time to react, Malcolm is taking the man by his shoulders and leading him out of the main room. While it is against policy to touch the dancers, I have never seen them take a small touch so seriously. I certainly didn't think a whole lot of it.
I try not to let the incident distract me and finish off my dance with a split kick, wishing that I could spin while doing so but not being able to complete such a move in high heels. Holding my ankle above my head, I wait until the room goes black before letting it drop, catching sight of a man that looks a good deal like Bentley just as he turns away from the stage.
Heart hammering, I quickly exit the stage without even a glance at the next dancer going on. I quickly make my way down the back hallway towards the bar entrance, eager to find out if it really was Bentley in the crowd or just my mind playing tricks on me. Pushing my way through the door, I spot Josh almost immediately re-entering the club from the front exit. Glancing around, I notice that the man from earlier is no where to be found. Being momentarily distracted by that fact, I quickly close the distance between us.
“What was that all about?” I ask, gesturing to the stage, watching his dark eyes dance in understanding.
“It's against policy to touch the dancers. Mr. Franks violated that policy and as such, his membership has been revoked and he was escorted out.” He says, turning his back to me to scribble something down on a piece of paper on the ledge in front of him.
I am about to ask why in the hell they would kick him out over something so ridiculous when I immediately freeze. His voice comes from behind me and washes over me like a tidal wave, an instant prickle covering every inch of my flesh.
“Did you get Mr. Franks squared away?” He asks, stepping directly past me and addressing Josh without so much as a look in my direction.
“Yes sir. I was just making a note for Cora so that she can take care of the paperwork in the morning.” He says, turning to face Bentley.
“Perfect. Make sure to thank Malcolm for acting so quickly.” He says, his professional demeanor seeming weirdly out of place even though he is always professional when talking to his employees. Well, with the exception of me anyways.
“I am heading out. Be sure to have Cora contact me directly if she has any questions.” He continues, throwing a nod in Josh's direction before turning. His shoulder brushes mine just as he passes me and his eyes meet mine for a fraction of a second, dancing off mine in a playful wink as he walks away.
Spinning to watch him, I am not sure if I feel amused, pissed, or hurt by the fact that he didn't talk to me. But then again, that's what I asked of him. Trying not to show my frustration, I turn back to find Josh studying me intently.
“What?” I ask, trying to swallow my defensive tone.
“Nothing.” He says, shaking his head at me. Clearly wanting to say something but choosing to keep his mouth shut instead. I am about to push the matter but just as I open my mouth to speak, Malcolm re-enters the club from the same door Josh had come through just moments before. He immediately approaches Josh to discuss whatever it was that just happened with poor Mr. Franks.
Rolling my eyes, I quickly turn and head out of the bar and backstage towards my dressing room, thankful that my shift is coming to an end. I cross paths with Lo just as I approach my door. Reaching out and grabbing my forearm, she quickly pulls me inside the room and shuts the door.
“What the....” I start, surprised by her actions.
“He fucking kicked him out.” She says, disbelief and astonishment lighting up her perfect features.
“What?” I ask, still too confused by everything that just happened to follow her.
“Bentley. He totally kicked that member out because he touched your leg!” She exclaims, her words coming out breathless. “I saw the whole thing. Holy shit girl. That man is intense.” She says, shaking her head as she takes a step back and plops down in the chair in front of my vanity.
“Wait. Bentley is the one who kicked him out?” I ask, completely floored. “But why?” I ask, turning slightly to face her straight on.
“I don't know but I overheard him talking to Josh. Apparently the moment he touched you, he sent Malcolm over to get him and then made Josh and Malcolm escort him out. It all happened so quickly I wasn't really sure what was going on.”
“That's absurd.” I practically scream across the room at her. “He barely touched my ankle.” I laugh at how ridiculous it sounds.
“Bentley was pissed though. I only know of one other member being kicked out before and that's because he made a move on a dancer during a private dance and it turned ugly pretty quickly. I have never heard of any other incidents, let alone something so small.” She shakes her head at me.
“This is crazy.” I say, crossing the room and flopping down on the couch. “You don't think this has anything to do with....”
