So. Long(207)
Shit. I didn’t even think about the poles.
I wonder how imperative it is that I be able to swing on a pole with any level of expertise. Because, if it’s super important, I’m screwed.
I grab the strap on Sadie’s big shoulder bag. “Hey, wait up.”
She turns and smiles. “Don’t worry, Lou. They’re gonna love that you were a Marine.”
“Am a Marine—always a Marine.”
“Okay, if you say so.” She takes my hand. “C’mon, I’ll introduce you to Lonnie.”
“I used to know a Lonnie. Is this one a jackass too?”
“He’s a creeper, but you can ignore him most of the time, as long as you’re nice to the customers. The bouncers are all good guys though. You’ll like Hank and Bo. Sling and Rocky are great too.”
“I have to get the job first. Got any tips for me?”
“Don’t break your ankle.”
“Yeah, thanks. That’s at the top of my list of things not to do.”
My stomach clenches as we approach the bar and the two guys leaning against it, one on either side of the counter.
Oh, God. I’m never going to make it through this.
Sadie pushes me forward, almost knocking me over. “Hey, Lonnie. This is my cuz, Loula Mae.”
“I go by Lou.” I toss her a frown and put out my hand as he turns to me.
Ah, shit.
Should’ve known.
Lonnie, the very one I knew—and hated—back in high school, chews on a toothpick as he looks me up and down with a smile that climbs up my spine, one vertebrae at a time, leaving oily hand prints behind.
I do my best to wipe the surprise and disgust from my face.
Fuck my luck.
Fuck my life.
This is just—ugh.
He dismisses the lanky bartender with a wave of his hand. “Well, if it isn’t little Loula Mae Fontaine. How’re you doing, Darlin’? Did ya miss me?”
I cock my head to the side. “I’m sorry, do we know each other?”
His grin fades, but then renews itself. “Ah, you’re funny. Well, the last few years have been good to you, Honey.”
Sadie throws her arm around my shoulder. “Lou’s looking for a job. I told her you might have an opening, especially since Valorie left last week.”
Again, Lonnie takes his time looking me over. His eyes seem to touch every bump and dip. “You know, I kinda always expected to see you come looking for a job here some day. Took you longer than I thought it would.”
My nails dig into my palms. It’s all I can do not to turn and stalk out.
Remember, this is for Aunt Delores. She needs me.
Lonnie pulls the toothpick from the corner of his mouth and points to the staircase on the far wall. “Go on up and change. I’ll give you an audition.”
I swallow my trepidation and nod. “Thanks.”
“No club dancing; that shit’s not for the stage.”
I nod. Fuck if I know the difference between club and stage dancing, but I’ll get a quick one-oh-one from Sadie.
He points to the DJ behind the short wall in the corner. “How do you want to be introduced?”
“Introduced?” I take a step back, looking to Sadie for an explanation.
She pops her gum. “You know—stage name? I go by Sassie.”
Shit. Stage name.
What the hell?
Okay, think. Stripper. Slutty. I blurt out the first name that pops into my head. “Honey.”
Lonnie quirks an eyebrow. “Honey?”
I shrug. “Sure, why not? Seems appropriate to me, and that’s what you called me a second ago.”
He chuckles. “All right. Honey it is.”
“Okay then, go show us what you’ve got, Honey. I can’t wait to see this.”
As I turn, his hand lands on my ass.
I spin back to face him as I step away from his groping fingers. “Anything else?”
“You can touch the guys, but they can’t touch you.”
I look him dead in the eye. “Don’t worry, if anyone, including you, gets too handsy, I’ll kick their fucking ass.”
SEVEN
Thugs One and Two help me with my lines. They’re stilted and awkward, but I can’t waste the time I have, so here we are. Plus, they don’t have to do it—it isn’t exactly in their job description.
“Hey, I appreciate you guys helping me out with this. I know it’s not the most comfortable thing for some people to read out loud, much less read from a script.” I pour each of us a drink.
They both decline when I try to hand them their glasses.
“Fine. More for me.”
By the time the crew loads onto the bus, I’m four drinks in and starting to relax.
Trudi plops into the plush chair beside mine. “Thanks for doing that. I think we got some good stuff. Now. Let’s go do something fun, or at least a little less—emotionally strenuous.”