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“Don’t get too liquored up,” Vanessa says in her mom tone. “I don’t want my girls stumbling around the stage. Not after that kick ass show you just put on.”
“Deal!” Megan shouts. She grabs my hand and leads me back to where Vanessa keeps her things.
There’s a big desk in the middle of the back room with a few filing cabinets along the walls. Picture frames line her desk and all but one of them are photos of us girls. All of us except the woman that was there this morning, dancing on the other pole.
I didn’t even see her here tonight.
Odd.
Megan opens the top drawer of one of the filing cabinets and pulls out a bottle of tequila. She gets into the big desk and grabs a few small cups that look like the ones you use to rinse your mouth at the dentist. She fills them to the rim and hands me one.
“Us too!” Amanda shouts, dragging Leeah behind her. Leeah’s poor short legs are barely keeping up with Amanda’s and I chuckle.
Megan laughs. “Already poured them for you bitches!”
She distributes the shots and we all hold up our little cups. “Cheers!” we say in unison before we throw back the liquor, letting it warm our throats and slam into our empty stomachs.
“That’s good shit,” Megan says, licking her lips.
“Agreed!” I say, actually surprised that I liked the taste of it. I was never a straight liquor kind of girl. I prefered the girly cosmo drinks since that’s what Rachel always made for us at the cookouts.
“Alright,” Vanessa says, poking her head in. “Leeah and Amanda, you girls need to get ready to go back out. Megan, Tommy said he wants to see you since your phone keeps ringing. And Dee, you have a champagne room request. Get your shit around and head on back.”
I swallow hard. “A what?”
“The rooms in the back,” Megan says, giving me the pissed off look at another one of my questions.
“Oh, right, right,” I say. “I just didn’t hear her.”
“Whatever,” Megan says, grinning. “We’ll get you a set of hearing aids after the show. That’ll definitely set off the event this weekend.”
Okay. Why do people keep talking about this weekend?
Just as I go to ask them what this weekend is since Vanessa left the room, a tall, burly, bald man enters. He’s wearing a black shirt and dark blue jeans. I think he’s the one that escorted Megan and me off the stage, but it was dark so I can’t quite tell. Then, I notice the logo on his shirt and realize it’s the club logo.
“Ready?” he asks.
I nod, knowing he’s about to escort me somewhere. I’m grateful since I don't have to figure out where to go. But I’m nervous because I have no idea what I’m doing.
“Stupid question?” I ask him.
He nods. “Sure.” His voice is just as I’d expect from a man his size. Deep and soothing. Like someone you’d want to talk to all night at the bar, knowing you’re not going home with him. Someone that will pretend to be your boyfriend for you when the creeps show up and start hitting on you. They’d take one look at him and scurry away with their tail between their legs.
“What do I wear?” I ask, hoping he doesn’t get pissed like the girls have been.
He smirks. “Trust me. Keep that on and you’ll make bank tonight.”
I grin. “Thanks.”
He walks me out of the dressing room and down a hallway across from the stage. Doors line the hallway, but most of them are open and I can tell they’re rooms for private shows. Nothing but dark lighting, a cushioned bench with a small table beside it, a mirror, and a small rug on the other side of the door.
I have a hard realization as we close in on the final room that I’m here to do just that. A private show.
Shit.
“Here you go, Trin,” he says, gesturing toward the room at the very back that says VIP on the door. “Don’t forget the button on the wall in the event you need me.” He looks at his watch. “I’ll see you in thirty.”
I nod, but I can’t seem to talk since my throat is completely dry.
