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“Here? Really?” He leans forward, the closed sign glowing red. “Doesn’t look like it’s open.”
“My friend lives above it.”
“Oh, okay,” he replies, seeming to believe it. “Oh hey,” he says when I step out of the car. I lean down into the open door.
“Yeah?”
“Give me your number so you can text me when you want to be picked up.”
“That doesn’t make much sense. I should take your number.”
“Or yeah, I just meant we should have each other’s numbers.”
“I’m actually staying the night here at my friend’s house so no worries. Thanks again!” I slam the door, quickly darting down an alleyway and around the corner until I watch him from a distance finally pull away.
I let out my breath, then dart across the street to the waiting car.
When the driver drops me at Freddy’s, I stand on the sidewalk for several minutes just staring at the glowing sign. One of the D’s is completely out, the Y flickering on and off every few seconds. I close my eyes, imagining my name written in those lights above this club.
I keep my head down as I walk through the club, heading straight back down the dingy hallway to Freddy’s office. I can hear him behind the foggy glass of the door, his loud, raspy laugh turning midway into a coughing fit.
“Yeah, sure, you got it, Pete.” I hear him end his conversation so I grab the handle and confidently open his door. He looks up from his desk, a cigar hanging out of his mouth with an ash so long it looks like a bony finger on the end. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t Little Miss Riding Hood.”
I curl my lips in disgust. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Well, you’re about to be eaten by the big bad wolf coming in here.” He launches into another half-cough, half-laugh fit.
“I want my job back,” I say, his smile fading. “I won’t sleep with you to get it back but I—I have money now. I can give you money. I just want my job back.”
He takes the cigar from his mouth and ashes it into a Styrofoam cup on his desk. A nasty sneer takes over his lips. “I don’t need any money, sugar tits.”
“Yeah right, everyone needs more money, Freddy. I’m serious, I can pay you and I don’t mean like a hundred dollars or something. I can pay you real money.” I don’t want to make an offer; I’m hoping to lowball him, maybe even see if he’ll take less than ten thousand. I know it’s a stupid investment, paying someone ten thousand dollars to give you back a job that barely paid enough to pay my water bill each month, but at this point, it’s not about the money. It’s about taking my dignity and independence back.
“That problem’s been taken care of already, trust me.”
“What do you mean? You couldn’t have gotten that much from your grandma.”
He snarls. “How the fuck do you know anything about my business?”
“I— I don’t. I just assumed.”
“Well, you don’t know a damned thing so unless you plan on getting on those pretty little knees and learning a thing or two about my cock, I’d suggest you get your trouble-causing ass out of my club.”
I slam the door behind me, making a beeline for the back of the club where Clyde and the band are warming up.
“Stella, my girl.” Clyde stands up with open arms. “Where the hell have you been, sweetheart?” He holds me tight in his arms and I have to remind myself that now isn’t the time to lose it emotionally and pour my heart out to him.
“Hey, I’m so sorry I disappeared on you.”
He cups my face. “That’s alright, darling. I heard you’ve been mighty busy being a wife.” His eyes glow with excitement and I don’t have the heart to tell him now that I’m pretty sure it’s over.
“I have been,” I say, smiling and grabbing his hands. “I can’t wait to tell you all about it, but I wanted to ask you something.”
“Sure, darlin’.”
“Why’d Freddy fire me?”
Clyde’s face falls. “He fired you?”
