AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Bebe perked up. “What’s this?”
Luke rolled his eyes. “Eden’s got it into her head that I’m a misogynist.”
“Right out of the gate, he wanted to know why I didn’t still live with my father, an unmarried woman of twenty-eight.” I snorted with laughter and gave his fingers a gentle squeeze. “If I live to be a hundred, I’ll never forget my shock at learning that a knuckle-dragging caveman still existed and was roaming the streets of Chicago.”
“Her father doesn’t have the mindset to just let a person go without a fight, so I was impressed she’d gotten away.” He squeezed back while slanting his mother a speaking glance. “She asked if I had been raised by an older, chauvinistic male, or perhaps had a deeply orthodox religious background. How ‘bout that for shocking?”
Bebe burst out laughing. It rang around the empty club with light and joy, and I knew in that moment Bebe Zaiger was going to be one of my favorite people.
“Oh, honey,” Bebe managed between fits of giggles. “That might be the funniest damn thing I’ve ever heard. Have you told her anything about me, or how you grew up?”
Luke shook his head. “I thought I’d let you do the honors. I mean, you do have a gallery, and a picture is worth a thousand words.”
“A gallery?” I repeated, brows raised.
“Let’s head over to my office, honey, and you’ll see what your knuckle-dragging caveman is talking about.”
As we journeyed deeper into the club and past the long, well-stocked bar, I couldn’t help but notice that a wall leading to the back offices was dedicated to framed eight-by-ten photos of various men. All gorgeous. All shirtless.
And some even pantsless.
What the hell.
“Um…”
“Employees of the Month,” Luke explained, pointing at the big sign hanging over the photos. Honestly, I didn’t even hold it against myself for missing it. “Every month patrons who belong to the Thunder Club’s newsletter vote for their favorite performer. Looks like Jake the Snake’s a perennial favorite.”
Good grief. “Performer?”
“Honey, the Thunder Club’s a gentlewoman’s club, AKA, a strip joint for women to enjoy. To be honest, I’m kind of sad you’ve never heard of us.” With a tiny pout, Bebe headed to the end of the hall and flung open a door. “Welcome to my home away from home. Feel free to ask any questions about me or my lovely little club. I’m an open book.”
“Too bad Eden can’t say the same,” Luke remarked, getting in some taunting of his own. It flew right over my head as I took in my surroundings.
Holy cats.
Bebe Zaiger was not just the owner of the Thunder Club.
She’d once been a stripper herself.
All that and more dawned on me as I took in the photos covering just about every inch of wall space—the largest framed photo being one of the magnificent Bebe outside the Thunder Club, cutting a fancy ribbon strung across the club’s entrance and surrounded by Chicago’s finest beefcake. Scattered here and there were photos of her when her hair was platinum blonde rather than white, in various burlesque costumes that no doubt came off one scandalous piece at a time. There were also eyebrow-raising shots of her in various positions on a pole, usually wearing little more than panties and pasties, along with several trophies displayed for Best Pole Performer eight years running.
Wow.
Who knew they had competitions for that sort of thing?
“So?” The sound of Luke’s voice by my ear made me jump. “What do you think of my mother’s gallery?”
“You’re very athletic,” I blurted, and they both laughed. They had the same laugh, including cadence and volume. I would have smiled if it weren’t for the fact that they were laughing at me.
“Ooh, honey, you’re the absolute limit,” Bebe announced, draping herself gracefully into the chair behind the desk before looking to Luke. “Is she always like this?”
“I told her not to be polite,” he said, still laughing, “but it seems to be ingrained into her very being.”
“Ugh, how awful that parents insist their kids not be their authentic selves. But, hey, to each their own.” She shot me a playful wink. “I’m sure they’re very proud of you, even if your father is a cult leader and your mother is a… what, exactly?”
“Dead.” There was no other way to put it, so I tried to ease the harshness of it with a gentle shrug. “It was a long, long time ago. Another life.”
“Oh, I’m so sorry.” All traces of hilarity vanished from Bebe’s expression, and she waved a hand at the comfy armchairs she had around her desk rather than the usual stiff office chairs. Clearly, the woman believed in her creature comforts. “I grew up in a single-parent household too, as did my son. His daddy happened to be married—my bad, I know, but I have no regrets—and that man could never publicly acknowledge he had a son, so that’s kind of like the death of a parent. May I ask how she died?”
