served in the lounge. You’ll work on stage.” He walks to his desk and
pulls out a piece of paper. “We’re a gentlemen’s club. Mostly businessmen meet
here. We aren’t just a bar, we offer…more. Burlesque show, not just strippers.”
Brody hands me the paper. “Fill this out. We
require our exotic dancers to get a license. Do it at the sheriff’s station; it
costs about a hundred and fifty dollars.”
I can feel the weight of my car-wash-earned cash.
Good thing I have it.
Brody continues. “Takes several hours because they
do a background check. You’ll need a birth certificate. Here’s a packet with a referral
slip from TorchLight.”
“TorchLight?”
“Yeah, name change with the remodel. Here’s my new
card.” The shiny card is all black with a close up of a flower, like the
pictures in the main room. “Think you can get all of that done by tomorrow?”
I take the card and a manila envelope that has
“Dancer Packet” written in Sharpie. “You want me to start tomorrow?”
“No.” He squeezes my shoulder and kisses my check.
“I owe you a night on the town.”
“Sure, I guess.”
He leaves his office so I follow and wait while he
locks the door.
“I need a date for a benefit. Do you have a formal
dress?”
I look down. “Uh…”
“Never mind, let’s visit props and costumes.” He
walks a few steps down the hall and opens the last door before the stairwell. Within
is a jungle of color.
He takes me past a rack of costumes to an armoire.
“Here are the special dresses.”
He opens it, and inside hangs a dozen shiny
fabrics under dry-cleaning plastic. Brody slides several hangers across the
wardrobe bar. I saw an old movie once where a woman tried on several costumes
for a man. I hope he doesn’t ask me to do that.
Brody lifts a few and holds them up to me
alternately.
“No, too low-cut.” He holds up another. “Here’s
the one.”
I can see the midnight fabric shimmer under the
plastic bag. It’s so dark it looks black from one angle and navy from another.
I lift the plastic.
“Satin.” Brody is pleased with himself. I begin to
take it. “Naw, come back tomorrow.” He pulls the hanger back. “You can get
ready here. I’ll send a car for you.”
I’m actually relieved. No way I could’ve explained
away that gown.
“Where are we going?”
Brody looks at the dress and then me. “Yeah.” He languishes
over the word and bites his lower lip with perfect teeth. He has seen many
women topless, but he wants to see me in this dress. Me.
“It’s a fundraiser.”
“Oh?” What kind of a cause would motivate a
strip—burlesque club owner?
He closes the armoire and hangs the dress on the
front knob. “Bringing art or music to under-privileged kids. You know, the
standard boring crud.”
I don’t laugh with him.
“It’s a way to mingle with our clients.” He puts
his hand on my back and guides me out of the costume room. “Show off my new
bird.”
My breath halts, caged in my chest. I forgot that
he knows my real name from when he saw it in the hospital. Brody closes the
door and waits for me to lead the way down the stairs.
“Right there. Stop.”
At the bottom of the stairs I pause. He puts a
hand on the door handle and looks at me. “I want to introduce you to some of
the girls. They’re doing makeup.”
Brody reaches behind me and I feel the flat of his
hand under my hair, against my back. “I’m really looking forward to our evening
tomorrow.” He pulls me close and whispers near my ear. “I’ll send the car for
you at six.”
The puff of air against my cheek unnerves me.
“No.”
He looks at me with the same expression he had
when his eyes were laughing at the Sir Car Wash logo on my shirt. I cover the
embroidery with my hand even though he isn’t looking at it now. “I don’t need a
ride. I’ll be here at six.”
“Perfect.” The door swings wide to reveal the room
I saw on the monitor.
“Fab-u-lous!”
Several girls call
pulls out a piece of paper. “We’re a gentlemen’s club. Mostly businessmen meet
here. We aren’t just a bar, we offer…more. Burlesque show, not just strippers.”
Brody hands me the paper. “Fill this out. We
require our exotic dancers to get a license. Do it at the sheriff’s station; it
costs about a hundred and fifty dollars.”
I can feel the weight of my car-wash-earned cash.
Good thing I have it.
Brody continues. “Takes several hours because they
do a background check. You’ll need a birth certificate. Here’s a packet with a referral
slip from TorchLight.”
“TorchLight?”
“Yeah, name change with the remodel. Here’s my new
card.” The shiny card is all black with a close up of a flower, like the
pictures in the main room. “Think you can get all of that done by tomorrow?”
I take the card and a manila envelope that has
“Dancer Packet” written in Sharpie. “You want me to start tomorrow?”
“No.” He squeezes my shoulder and kisses my check.
“I owe you a night on the town.”
“Sure, I guess.”
He leaves his office so I follow and wait while he
locks the door.
“I need a date for a benefit. Do you have a formal
dress?”
I look down. “Uh…”
“Never mind, let’s visit props and costumes.” He
walks a few steps down the hall and opens the last door before the stairwell. Within
is a jungle of color.
He takes me past a rack of costumes to an armoire.
“Here are the special dresses.”
He opens it, and inside hangs a dozen shiny
fabrics under dry-cleaning plastic. Brody slides several hangers across the
wardrobe bar. I saw an old movie once where a woman tried on several costumes
for a man. I hope he doesn’t ask me to do that.
Brody lifts a few and holds them up to me
alternately.
“No, too low-cut.” He holds up another. “Here’s
the one.”
I can see the midnight fabric shimmer under the
plastic bag. It’s so dark it looks black from one angle and navy from another.
I lift the plastic.
“Satin.” Brody is pleased with himself. I begin to
take it. “Naw, come back tomorrow.” He pulls the hanger back. “You can get
ready here. I’ll send a car for you.”
I’m actually relieved. No way I could’ve explained
away that gown.
“Where are we going?”
Brody looks at the dress and then me. “Yeah.” He languishes
over the word and bites his lower lip with perfect teeth. He has seen many
women topless, but he wants to see me in this dress. Me.
“It’s a fundraiser.”
“Oh?” What kind of a cause would motivate a
strip—burlesque club owner?
He closes the armoire and hangs the dress on the
front knob. “Bringing art or music to under-privileged kids. You know, the
standard boring crud.”
I don’t laugh with him.
“It’s a way to mingle with our clients.” He puts
his hand on my back and guides me out of the costume room. “Show off my new
bird.”
My breath halts, caged in my chest. I forgot that
he knows my real name from when he saw it in the hospital. Brody closes the
door and waits for me to lead the way down the stairs.
“Right there. Stop.”
At the bottom of the stairs I pause. He puts a
hand on the door handle and looks at me. “I want to introduce you to some of
the girls. They’re doing makeup.”
Brody reaches behind me and I feel the flat of his
hand under my hair, against my back. “I’m really looking forward to our evening
tomorrow.” He pulls me close and whispers near my ear. “I’ll send the car for
you at six.”
The puff of air against my cheek unnerves me.
“No.”
He looks at me with the same expression he had
when his eyes were laughing at the Sir Car Wash logo on my shirt. I cover the
embroidery with my hand even though he isn’t looking at it now. “I don’t need a
ride. I’ll be here at six.”
“Perfect.” The door swings wide to reveal the room
I saw on the monitor.
“Fab-u-lous!”
Several girls call
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