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“Go back to bed, honey. I’ll keep some lunch ready for you to eat whenever you wake up.”
“Or you could join me and we could take a nap together,” he said meaningfully.
“Nice try,” I said, with a smile. “But you need your rest. Did you take your pain meds?”
“It’s just a scratch, Celine. Don’t worry about it,” he said, but most of his words were swallowed by another huge yawn.
“Hmph. Just go back to sleep already,” I scolded, taking his coffee cup out of his hands. “I’ll finish this for you.”
Marcus kissed me on the forehead and tears sprang to my eyes. What was it about forehead kisses that made them feel more meaningful than a proper kiss with tongue?
I hugged him tightly and pressed a soft kiss on his chest.
“I’ll be at the club this evening,” I reminded him.
“I’ll come by to pick you up,” he promised.
I nodded and let him go back to bed.
I got ready for work, but I was plagued by a strange restlessness, like an itch at the back of my brain. A feeling that told me something was about to upend my life. I ignored it and went about my day because I already had a lot on my mind. I needed to stop acting like I was cheating on Marcus by doing the lap dances. Yesterday, I had turned down all of them because there was no way I could do them knowing he was in the other room. But I needed to get my act together before Bo kicked me out.
When I was getting off the stage, a guy at the tip rail waved me down and asked for a private dance. I nodded towards the VIP room and asked him to wait there while I freshened up. In my green room, I gave myself a stern lecture. This thing with Marcus was just a fling. It was temporary. After he left me - which he would because men like him never married strippers - I still had to pay my debts and raise my daughter.Wise up, Celine, I told myself. Focus on your work and make some money before you’re too old to dance.
That would have to do for a pep talk. I spritzed myself with some perfume and got back to work. It was a regular lap dance. Uneventful. The guy didn’t take his eyes off my boobs, but he didn’t even try to grab my ass. Like I said, uneventful.
Which is why it took me by surprise when Bo called me into his office just as I was about to go down for my next act. He had a pile of cash on the table and he looked seriously unhappy.
“Wassup, Bo?”
He waved me into the chair in front of him.
“Celine, honey, why’d you do it?” he asked with a groan.
“Do what?”
He squinted at me from behind his unlit cigar and tapped his fingers on the table. When I stared back at him in confusion, he blew out a deep breath.
“What happened during the lap dance today?”
I didn’t know what he meant.
“Nothing happened. The guy didn’t try anything if that’s what you mean,” I replied slowly.
Our club had strict rules where the customer couldn’t touch the dancers at all, and even one violation was enough to get you banned for life. That was Bo’s way of keeping us safe from guys who thought they could grab your ass and feel you up just because you danced for them.
“And what did you do?”
“Nothing! What’s going on, Bo? You’re scaring me.”
“You should be scared, honey. The guy just looked in to inform me that you tried to solicit him during the dance.”
I went white with fear. If the club had strict rules for customers, the rules for dancers were even stricter. Even a whiff of prostitution could get a club’s license revoked, so we weren’t allowed to say or do anything that could be interpreted as soliciting. That was non-negotiable, and Bo was very strict about it.
“I would never do that, Bo. Apart from the fact that I’m not a whore, I would never risk getting fired,” I stammered, fear sitting like a rock in my belly.
“I know that, darling. But rules are rules. The guy threatened to call the cops if I didn’t do something about it. You know what I gotta do.”
“Oh, come on! You can’t possibly fire me just because one customer claims I did something,” I protested, unable to believe my ears.
