Remember to be cold.
Distant.
Act normal.
Knocking on his door his low voice grumbles, “Come in.”
“Have a business plan for the holidays, Paul,” I blankly tell him as I push the door closed.
Typing at his keypad he swipes his hand through the hologram screen to put it to sleep-mode. “Sit.”
With my laptop ready I take the seat opposite him, noting as I always do how much shorter it is than his chair. He towers over his visitors on purpose. With a cool head trained from years of being miserable and closed off, I show him the presentation I put together late last night. A little investment into keeping him off my scent.
“The holidays are a lonely time for people, as we all know. Business is high for you normally but I found a way to increase that.”
Leaning back in his office chair he asks, “How?”
“You normally don’t decorate much. But what if this year you did? You have the funds now to make the clubs incredible. Wait,” I smirk, holding up my hand as he starts to object. “Not all fluff and sweetness, but really sexy Christmas. Tiny costumes. Fantastic lights. Vegas-style. Something so flashy and hot that the other clubs in town can’t compete.”
Already thin lips purse as he scans the outfit ideas I put together. For the females they’re more fun. The men are mostly in nothing but dressed up thongs. But it works.
“That’ll entertain the people who are already here.”
“Don’t underestimate word of mouth, Paul. Oh, and did I not mention my other idea?”
His eyes narrow. “Go on.”
“Dress the girls up in sexy elf and Santa costumes and send them into the bars of Atlanta.”
“They won’t like me advertising on their turf.”
“How will they know unless someone tells them?” Closing the laptop I meet his eyes with a sneaky glint in mine, because that’s what will get through to this snake. “The girls go in dressed up, say they’re heading to some holiday party after grabbing a quick drink. They strut around, flirt up a storm and whisper to all the groups of men that they’re really from The Dollhouse or Southern Comfort. Have them hold a suggestive finger to their lips that it’s a secret. Maybe even suck on a candy cane. Then they head to the next bar. They can’t go twice to the same place but if they buy a drink when they show up, who’d think to throw them out?”
Clasping his hands over his large belly he grunts, “Hmm.”
“Same for the men. Have Bruce and Steven make the rounds of the gay bars. But don’t stop there. Send Matt and Jonathan—clearly straight—out to approach Atlanta’s women. You have an untapped resource with them. Right now Swinging Richards attracts mostly men. The ladies are usually there for bachelorette parties, things like that. But you send Matt or Jonathan out and you’ll get a buzz going that you don’t already have!”
My boss’s eyes light up. “I like this, Nat. I like it a lot.”
“Think it could work?”
He stares off at the possibilities. “I’ll put you in charge of it.”
Before I can gather my shock I blurt, “What? No, not me.”
“Why not you?” His concentration sharpens.
Doing my best to appear normal I shrug, “I’m not a manager. Who wants the bookkeeper telling them what to do?”
“You’re a business manager, so that’s what you’ll tell them.”
“I’ll tell them?”
“You think I have time for Christmas?”
Biting back frustration I smile, “Of course not. I’ll take care of it.”
“Good.” He swipes above his computer module and the hologram screen comes back into play. He has the latest technology where the movie plays in 3D right here on his desk, actors playing out a medieval battle. As blood spatters into nothingness I stand up and head out. “Have Juniper be one of the girls.”
Pausing at the door I ask, “Juniper? You think that’s a good idea?”
“She’s the ballsiest of them.”
“And the craziest.”
Engrossed in his show, he mutters, “This isn’t a conversation. It’s an order. And Nat, I want you decorating the clubs, too. You can have one helper.” Meeting my eyes he grumbles, “Since you felt you had enough free time to get another job, I’ll keep you busy.”
Spirits falling I mutter, “Yes, sir.”
How am I going to have time to manage the publicity, shop for and decorate three clubs plus work on Max’s film? Closing his door behind me I glance around the dressing room and see an unfamiliar face primping in one of the mirrors.
While attaching fake-eyelashes Candy Land asks, “How’d it go?”
“Who’s that?”
She lowers her voice. “Ophelia is the name she’s going by. Real name is AnnaMay Dinkle. Named after her grandmother, can you believe that? Thank God we get to choose our stage-names!”
“How old is she?”
“Legal age,” Candy Land shrugs, back to work before the glue dries. “Looks fourteen though, right? That’s what I thought, too. The men’ll love her!”
Stifling a shudder I go to leave and run right into Juniper Rising walking in from the club. She bends backwards like I’m contagious. “Oh hell no,” she mutters, wagging her finger. “Why are you here?”
How badly do I want to slap her right now? But instead I distract her ire with a sense of purpose. “Paul has a job for you. Off site. You in?”
Purple eyelashes flutter. “He said that? You messing with me?”
“Go ask him.”
She starts for his door but thinks better of it, turning to wave through the air a decisive, “Better not bother the man. What is this job? He ain’t my pimp.”
I know for a fact that she fucks some of the guys here in her private sessions. They all do some sort of sexual act if the money is right.
“It’s a publicity stunt. You and one other girl will go around town to drum up business. But you have to be sneaky about it.”
At the S-word her eyes perk up. “I like sneaky,” she smiles, tapping all ten fingernails together like a Disney villain might do.
Launching into my plan I tell her all about it. The ears perk of several of our other girls. But no one more than Ophelia who inches closer the longer I talk.
“Can I go with her?” she whispers, sounding too fragile for my liking. “I want to be the other girl. Can I?”
Juniper shouts, “Hell no! You just got here little girl. You don’t get no field trips. You gotta earn this stuff. Now go eat a lollipop or whatever it is you children do!”
Her eyes steel but it’s just for a moment. Barely enough time to seem real. I stare at her wondering if I imagined it as she quietly nods and says, “That’s okay. I understand.”
Juniper’s energy is ten times the new girl’s as she claps her hands and shouts, “Oh hell yes! I’m in! Candy Land, you wanna join me? Your dark skin and my lily-white needs-a-tan bullshit will have them eating out of our hands.”
Juniper is white trash who thinks she has soul. Candy Land is third-generation Jamaican who tolerates Juniper’s affectations.
But from the look on her face, she’d love the field-trip assignment, and asks “We get paid more for this?”
“I don’t think so.”
“Can you talk to him about that?”
“You can.”
Her full lips bunch up. “Nope.” Candy Land flips back to the mirror, meeting my eyes in the reflection. “Count me in. I’d like the change of pace, guess that’s payment enough.”
“Okay, it’s set then. I’ll find the costumes. Put my number in your phones so you can text me your sizes.”
They dig in their lockers, not allowed to call anyone or use the Internet while on the job—Paul’s rule. Both mutter regret about the amount of people blowing up their phones but since they’re afraid of his wrath they skip replying and tap in my information instead.
My gaze slides to Ophelia’s reflection as she applies lipstick, hair in a high pon
ytail. I wonder who her parents are? And I really want to get a glimpse of that drivers license because I don’t believe she’s eighteen.
Juniper slams her metal locker. “When do we start, Nat?”
Ignoring the dig, I say, “We just had Thanksgiving, so right away I guess,” reaching for where I left my computer bag. “Let me get a few things in order and I’ll get back to you.” Paul’s door opens as I ask, “Anyone good at shopping?” and all heads turn to him.
With a slow stroll he scans the mostly naked girls before landing on me. My heart beats faster at the look in his eyes. “You’ll do the shopping, Nat, alone.”
“Of course.”
As he heads for the club he grunts, “Don’t let me find out you pawned this off.”
CHAPTER 23
M AX
“Where have you been?” I demand as Natalie rushes into the rehearsal two hours late.
“I had to work. Sorry everyone.”
Colleen and Dan give me distracted nods from where they stand facing each other, scripts in their hands.
“We’re on the scene where they first meet at the party,” I explain, sitting down next to her. Natalie nods and pulls her script from her computer bag as tense eyes land on the actors.
‘Jaden’ glances over from where he’s chatting with his twin brother, who will be played by Dan in the movie, too. So he’s standing there with nobody really, but it looks as if he’s in full conversation, he’s that good. His eyes flicker at the sight of Marnie entering. She’s scanning the party, wondering where the booze is while she makes a model’s entrance. This is before the drugs have taken hold so her eyes are clear but have that superior distance the truly beautiful often have. They’re so used to being stared at they have to protect themselves.
Jaden mutters, “Think I just found my plans tonight,” to his invisible brother and glances back to Marnie who locks eyes with him. She’s supposed to be across the room, and shows no sign of hearing him even though it’s only just the four of us here. The smile she gives is so in-character it’s obvious she’s just spotted him for the first time, and approves of what she sees. Then her wall flies back up. He takes this as his cue, and walks to her, maneuvering around invisible party-goers on his way.
“You’re not familiar,” Jaden smiles.
“I’m new to Atlanta,” she blandly replies, eyes flitting around everyone but him.
“Where are you from, Heaven?”
She laughs, “You did not just say that.”
He gives her his winning smile and runs a hand through blonde, neatly trimmed hair, taking his time. It’s like he’s willing her to imagine how soft it would be if she touched it. Marnie’s eyes do flick to the motion but she keeps her wall firmly in place.
“Where are you from?”
“All over. I just came from New York.”
“Oh yeah?” His eyes glimmer with interest.
She goes on to intimidate him with, “And Milan, London, Paris, Moscow.”
But this only sets the hook deeper. “You’re a model then. I figured.” He makes a move to leave as though the idea is disgusting to him. This sets the bait for her, turns the tables completely. And it works.
She grabs his arm, “What’s wrong with being a model?”
He shrugs, unaffected. “Models are stuck up.”
“We are not!”
“I think you are.”
“But I’m not stuck up! I’m originally from Dublin, Georgia!” Her accent drifts out, “See I used to have this drawl and everything!”
“What happened to it?”
“I lost it on purpose.”
She doesn’t know it but he’s engaged her in a real conversation now. Marnie steps closer to him, like if she doesn’t then he might leave. She reacts as Jaden slides two fingers along the side of her face, his eyes on her lips. “You have a little thing here,” he murmurs.
She looks at the finger he holds up. “There’s nothing there.”
He feigns surprise, glances to the empty pad of his index finger and locks eyes with her again. “Guess I just needed an excuse to touch you.”
A slow smile spreads and she glances away to hide it.
“I like your drawl, by the way. But then again, I’m born and raised in the South.”
“Where’s your accent?” she teases, touching his chest and lingering there while he answers.
“Most people who are raised in Atlanta don’t have one. Too metropolitan.” Backtracking he hurries to add, “It’s not London, but we’re proud of it.”
“I like it here,” Marnie purrs, full flirt.
“I’d enjoy showing you around, if you’re free tomorrow?”
“How about tonight?”
He gives her a sexy grin. “Deal.”
They stay like that, and their chemistry is so good that I forget to call cut. It’s Natalie who says, “Well done you two,” glancing to me. “Were you working on this before I got here?”
Mystified as to how I got so lucky as to find my ideal cast I stand up, not looking at Natalie as I answer, “No, we were on later ones. I wanted to go back to the beginning. Sometimes doing nothing is hardest. But you guys really proved me wrong. That was fantastic. Dan, I know you said you had to be at The Alliance.”
“Yeah,” he frowns, “Sorry Max. But we got a lot done tonight, right?”
“Totally. I’m all good for now.”
Colleen beams, “It’s so wonderful that we’re doing these rehearsals, Max! Usually we just show up on set, hoping it works out! But this is more like a play!”
Dan agrees, “That’s what I was telling my girlfriend, too. At the play I’m doing tonight we rehearsed for seven weeks and we’ve only performed for four. It’s the last night tonight and I feel like we only hit our stride Thanksgiving weekend. I really appreciate the chance to dig my teeth in here, too.”
“Thanks,” I smile, proud to be able to offer something good to them. They’re more experienced than I am. Didn’t want to come off as a hack. “Have a great show tonight.”
Dan gathers his things and Colleen takes the opportunity to step up to me and ask, “Do you think I can do some one-on-one rehearsals with you over my alone-scenes. The one where Marnie’s really losing it, all by herself, scared.”
“Of course! Are you talking about tonight?”
“No, I need to go over those parts of the scripts, do my prep work.” Smiling she waves by her face. “Not in the right headspace.”
“Sure, didn’t know if you were asking me about rehearsing now.” Glancing to Natalie I ask, “When are you free next?”
Clearing her throat, she pulls up her phone’s calendar. It occurs to me that she didn’t expect me to invite her to it, like I’m pissed at her tardiness. Swiping a few times, she raises those long eyelashes I fantasize about and says, “I can’t do this weekend, or Monday or Tuesday daytime. First week of December, and I’ve got to decorate when the clubs are slow.”
Frowning, I ask, “Are you serious?”
“Yes, I’m sorry, I have to work, Max.”
Colleen touches my arm, a soft and gentle single caress that brings my focus back to her. “It’s okay, it can be just us. I trust you,” she smiles.
“See you later, Max,” Dan waves as he heads out my front door, wrapping the scarf around his neck.
“Yeah, see ya!” My gaze falls back to Colleen. “What days are good for you?”
“I can do this weekend.” Walking to lift her purse from my coffee table she heads for the coat rack, adding, “Whenever you need me, Max. I’m completely here for you.”
Relieved I exhale, “Great, thanks. I’ll text you.”
“Perfect.” Sliding her white coat on it looks like she just walked off the cover of Vogue. “Goodbye Natalie!” Glancing over she gives me a different smile. “Bye Max. This was so great, thank you for being such an open director. We really appreciate the respect.”
“Are you kidding? I’m barely able to pay you. It’s me who’s grateful. Drive safe
. You going home tonight?”
“Yeah, it’s just me,” she shrugs with a sweet smile. “I’m going to take a hot bath and relax tonight. See you soon!”
“I’ll watch you get into your car,” I walk over and lean on the jamb of my front door as Dan’s taillights disappear into the night. The parking lot is well lit, but this is still an industrial area so you never know. Colleen’s not the type to kick someone’s ass. She’s the type who needs protecting so my instincts are high to make sure she stays safe. Her heels click along the pavement in no hurry, blonde hair floating behind her like cotton in the wind. I shake my head at how lovely she is. How perfect for Marnie.
Opening her driver’s door she calls out, “I’m okay, Max! You’re so sweet, thank you!”
I give her a wave and as the headlights come on I shut my door, lock the deadbolt and turn to see Natalie glaring at me.
My eyebrows shoot up. “What’s that face for?”
She smoothes it away. “I had something in my eye.”
“Yeah, hate.”
“Ha hah.”
“Seriously, what was that look?”
“I’m tired, Max. That’s all you saw.”
Irritated I motion to the door. “Then go home and sleep.”
She snaps her computer bag shut and stands up, running a hand over her sleek bangs. “Fine, that’s a great idea. I was hoping for a way out of here and now I have one.”
Anger flies into my veins, voice rising. “Why’d you even come here then? You’re two hours late! You couldn’t show up yesterday and the day before you only gave me an hour and a half! Now you tell me that? What the hell, Natalie?”
In thigh-high black boots, black turtleneck and mini-skirt, she storms over to her coat. “Nothing, everything is great. I’m just tired and I want to be in bed where there’s a soft pillow and warm tea and maybe I’ll light some incense and meditate my way out of this hell!”
She’s been struggling to get that coat on and doesn’t realize it’s upside down. Her arm keeps trying to angle the right way to make it work. Huffing, I remove it from her, turn it around and hold it open.
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