With those words, her heart pounded even more furiously. She was indeed all of what Asher had said—a stripper, the best one out there—but she had a past. One she couldn’t risk becoming public knowledge, which was why she did what she did. Sienna took her clothes off for money. She bared her skin so she didn’t have to show her soul.
As Sienna, her secret was safe in a city full of secrets, because what happened in Vegas, stayed in Vegas.
Sure, it was a cliché. But it was exactly why she had run there seven years ago in the first place. She’d felt she was safe in Vegas, so she was staying put. Why not take Asher up on his offer?
Her onstage career would be limited by her age, and she hadn’t had a ton of options when it came to earning money. At some point she would need to retire, and everyone needed a nest egg. Even a woman who had left a life serving God for bright lights and a stripper pole deserved to not be destitute.
And that was how Sienna came to be an owner of the Electric Tunnel, the naughtiest, classiest, and most exclusive strip club in the United States.
She still had to dance at this very moment, not only because the music had started, but the club relied on her. Without Sienna Flower, the Electric Tunnel was just another gentleman’s club. With her erotic beauty, sleek curves, lush breasts, and virginal eyes, she was the main course who lured everyone inside to be tempted by other appetizers and side dishes. Everything else at the club was à la carte: drinks, having a nubile young woman rub up against you, as well as venturing to the private areas.
Sienna Flower captivated the audience and demanded their focus, night in and night out. Not only did she own the Tunnel’s stage, but every other adult dancer in their attempt to be her, even if for just one single performance.
By necessity, she was an owner in heart and mind, but not on paper. It would never be official. Her past prevented that, so that a paper trail would never lead anyone from her past to her present. Sienna Flower was a mirage, a figment of the imagination, hiding who she really was from the real world.
The applause and cheering were deafening as she took the stage to perform. This wasn’t something new. Every night for the last four and a half years, the clapping and catcalls only got louder, the audience demanding to be pleasured with Sienna’s tantalizing curves and smooth moves. She loved and adored the noise the crowd made; it never got old. It wasn’t as much about adoration as it was longevity for her. The louder it was, the greater job security she had. For Sienna Flower, security was everything.
Men and women alike lined up outside the club six nights a week to gain entrance to the Tunnel, paying no mind to it being an all-female strip club. The people who pressed against the velvet rope outside didn’t discriminate by gender; each of them wanted to catch a glimpse or more of Sienna Flower. The season of the year made no difference. In the brutal heat of summer, or the chilly evenings of winter like now, they came in droves to get “electrified.”
They knew that if your name wasn’t on the list for Friday or Saturday nights, you could forget about even trying to get in the door at the Tunnel. “Try coming back on a Tuesday,” one of the bouncers would say, turning you away with no regrets before moving on down the line.
The first six months she danced were quite a different story. No one knew who she was, and her less-than-sultry moves met with vague stares and drew only small crowds, but then she started coming into her own. Back then she was still Lila, playing dress-up as a stripper. It didn’t take long for Lila to hold tightly to perfecting the role of Sienna Flower.
Like an empty, hollow Hollywood set, Sienna Flower was a stripper with no real sexual history to speak of, no experience with intimacy, and certainly no fantasies other than surviving.
She could never be Lila again, couldn’t go back to her old ways, so she was betting the house on Sienna Flower.
If not Sienna Flower, who would I be?
Asher was the only one who knew the real Lila. She was certain this was why he wanted her to have half the club. He knew what she fought against. Everyone else just assumed the personal and business relationship between the two was based on Sienna being the main attraction at the Tunnel.
Turning her focus to the crowd, her skin was glowing, her hair shining, and her smile radiant as she took center stage. Sienna was ready to thrill and entice like she did every time she performed.
Fully settled in her routine, Sienna’s thoughts drifted again.
“My name is Lila,” she’d told Asher when he first interviewed her all those years ago, “but I’m thinking about going by something different.” She had felt safe immediately with Asher. Something about him had made her feel protected, allowed her to talk freely.