chapter 5

The first night he came in to the strip club, I had been mid-dance when Rick's hand gripped my shoulder. I glanced over, my eyes sharp, and my irritated look turned into a question. Rick never interrupts when we are with a client.

He leaned over, catching the glazed eyes of my client. "Sorry to interrupt, but I need to borrow Candy. Consider the first half of the dance to be on the house." His hand pulled at my arm, not allowing me an option, and I stumbled off of the man, my heels catching as I hopped and skipped to keep up with him.

"What the hell? Is everything okay?" I hissed at him, narrowly missing the sharp edge of a table as he drug me along.

"We have a high roller, up in VIP. He saw you, wants you, up there.""A high roller?" I fought the urge to laugh. The guy probably asked for sparkling water and Rick thought he was fancy. Our club was an establishment for truckers and minivan driving dads; anybody with any taste or money took their plane to Orlando or South Florida if they wanted girls.

"Yes, this guy is loaded. He already ordered a bottle of champagne – you know that bottle of Dom we keep in the back? Plus, he has private security and came in a limo." Rick was moving fast, his hand incessantly pushing on my lower back, his words practically panting with excitement.

I allowed myself a small sliver of excitement. This guy did sound loaded. Maybe this night would be different. Maybe I would actually meet someone worth meeting, someone who didn't try to haggle over the price of a lap dance, or who would try and cop a free feel. Rick pulled back the curtain that enclosed the VIP section and I stepped through the curtain and had my first glimpse of him.

There are people that bring elegance to any environment. Our VIP room definitely neededsome elegance, built with functionality and economy in mind: worn black couches surrounding a small stage, black curtains on ceiling tracks that could be pulled around the couches, dividing the room into four private spaces, each with a view of the pole. This man sat on a center couch, leaning back, his arms draped out and across the couch, his feet crossed casually at the ankles, a lit cigar glowing from his right hand. Behind the couch, two men stood, their features hid by the shadows, their silhouetted builds impressive. Between them, the cigar smoke drifted across the man's face, and blue eyes glowed at me, a smug smile widening as I approached.

I masked my apprehension, holding my posture straight, tits out, stomach in, a smile across my face. I walked directly to him and stopped before him. "You asked for me?"

He brought the cigar to his lips, taking a slow drag on it, his eyes raking up and down my body unapologetically. His eyes flitted to the pole, then back to my face.

"Dance."

I turned slowly to the pole, feeling the absenceof Rick, the emptiness of the room. It was odd that we were alone, that no one else was in this space. Even the bouncer had left, leaving me alone with the three men. The house music was piped through this space, a DMX song playing. I strode up to the stage, gripping the pole with one hand and doing a slow spin as I exhaled, releasing my stress and apprehension in one slow breath. You are okay. You are beautiful. You will be fine. I rolled my neck, repeating the mantra, my long hair sliding over my skin as my head moved. I wished for the lights, the bright lights that hid everything from me. Then I took another breath and moved, gripping the pole and swinging my body up and out into the air, a swirling motion that spun the room out of focus, allowing me a brief, short moment of invisibility.