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That didn't have to mean anything. Plenty of patrons were just cheapskates, here to see titties for the cheapest cost possible.
But the man's eyes met Joey's, and Joey knew that that wasn't the reason. The man lifted his empty glass.
Joey poured another beer, and then he straightened his back and stepped out from behind the bar.
Okay, here goes.
Chapter twelve
Joey
Joeyflashedthesultriestsmile he could manage as he approached the man. He cocked his hip as he placed down the drink, inviting his hungry gaze to linger on his body.
"Here you go."
"Thanks."
God, he was bad at this… But just the thought of that half-empty ledger drove him on. "Can I get you anything else, sir?" Joey purred, with a wink.
It felt artificial, but it clearly hit its mark. The man grinned, his eyes roving over Joey's tight pants. He lifted his glass of beer. "Well, speaking of head…"
"You're naughty," Joey tried to tease, despite the sickly beating of his heart. He giggled, feeling revolted.
As he walked away, he felt the man's gaze following him, like a moth drawn to a flame.
Throughout the night, Joey played the game as expertly as he could, using his charm and youthful looks to his advantage. Not every patron was there for what he had to offer—but the few that were clearly appreciated his offerings.
The tips piled up, larger than they'd ever been before, but still not enough to put a dent in the massive debt hanging over him. It was exhausting work, but he knew he had no other choice.
As the night grew longer, men coming and going, Joey was flagged down by a man sitting alone in one of the booths at the back. He was older, impeccably dressed in a tailored suit.
"Can I get you anything, sir?"
"A Scotch, if you'd be so kind."
Joey hesitated. "What kind do you want?"
"Well, what do you have?"
"In a place like this? We have awful, bad, and worse." He winked. "But I could get the good stuff down from the top shelf, if you wanted."
The man smiled. "Thank you."
It was a moment's work to find one of the few expensive bottles of booze in the club. It showed how classy this joint was—the bottle was covered in a fine layer of dust. Joey blew it off with a frown, and poured it out.
"Anything else?" he asked when he returned.
"Your company would be divine," the man replied smoothly. But despite his polite manner, he was in a seedy strip club in the middle of the night: he was only there for one reason. His eyes raked over Joey's body with an intensity that made his breath hitch.
"Of course," Joey said, sliding into the booth and draping his arm over the back of the seat. "I'm Joey, by the way."
"Enzo," the man introduced himself, extending a hand. Joey took it, feeling the cool metal of a wedding ring press against his skin as they shook hands.
"Tell me, Joey," Enzo began, his dark eyes smoldering with desire. "How much would a pretty little thing like you charge for… a more intimate encounter?"
Joey's mouth went dry. He had flirted shamelessly all night, but this was an entirely different playing field.
A part of him wanted to dismiss the offer outright, but the temptation of the money was impossible to ignore.
