Off Limits

by Vivian Ward

  On a slow night, she could probably count on $75-100 per night. If it’s busy, she could make $250, or more, depending on the type of guys that come in.

  But the thing is, I wasn’t kidding when I said that we needed another cocktail waitress. Offering her this job wasn’t a ‘favor’. Okay, maybe it was a little, but our last girl quit a week ago and I hate doing interviews, unless it’s for dancers.

  I’m always up for interviewing the dancers.

  I have the luxury of taking them into one of the private rooms and having them show me their moves and routine.

  They get to pick the outfit, the song, everything. And I get to sit back, watch, and enjoy the show.

  The private show.

  And they’re all eager to work here so they all put a little extra oomph into their routine when they dance for me, hoping it’ll land them the job that all of the local girls want.

  Sometimes it works. I can’t resist a hot number swinging around the pole, staring me straight in the eyes, seducing me with every thrust of her hips.

  But most of the time it doesn’t. I can see right through the girls and their routines. For some of them, the talent comes naturally; those are the good ones—the ones that I hire.

  Sure, there have been a few girls—literally a handful—that I’ve given a job to even though they were subpar because I saw potential. Even then, I’m still leery about hiring a girl based on potential.

  In this business, you either have it or you don’t.

  The only down fall is that I have one rule: never get involved with the dancers.

  This includes dating and fucking.

  There are a couple of benefits to this rule.

  1. It prevents unnecessary drama in the club.

  2. It keeps my sister happy.

  Every man’s dream is to watch women strip down to a tiny G-string while shaking their ass and tits in a pair of fuck-me-heels, and I’m no different.

  The only difference is between me and other guys is they don’t get to do my job. They don’t get paid to watch the dancers. Well, Zeke does, but he’s security and has to keep an eye on the girls. Together, the two of us keep them safe.

  Zeke’s a big dude. He’s 6’5” and pure muscle. He’s quiet and professional; he keeps the riffraff out and makes my job around here a hell of a lot easier. We make a great team and I know that he’s always got my back.

  I regularly pump iron at the gym, but I don’t hold a candle to Zeke and I consider myself nicely built. My biceps are thicker than my neck and my abs are cut.

  I don’t say this to brag, it’s just the truth. I treat my body like a well oiled machine.

  I lift five days a week and do cardio on my two days off. All of my meals are home cooked because I prepare everything that I eat. I don’t eat garbage or fast food, and that’s one thing that I pride myself on.

  And Zeke? He often gets mistaken for Michael Clarke Duncan, and nobody fucks with him. Nobody; which is why I make sure I have him work prime time. I work the place solo on his nights off.

  It’s easy enough to do on Monday and Tuesday nights. We have our usual doorman, and he’s typically able to turn away any trouble who tries to get in. When he needs back up, I’m right there to assist.

  With it being the beginning of a new work week, I eye the stack of applications that occupy the corner of my large oak desk. I love this desk; I got it about two years ago at an auction when I remodeled my office, but I hate the fact that I’m the one who’s always behind it.

  It’d be nice if my sister stepped in and actually did some work once in a while. She probably only spends five hours a week at the club, if that. It’s probably just as well, though; I don’t have to deal with her snarky attitude as often.

  I debate calling Melanie to make her one last offer on the job before I start going over the applications. All I can picture her in is that cute little dress she wore. It would never do for the club, but I couldn’t stop thinking about hiking it up over her shapely legs and fucking her in one of the Champagne Rooms.

  If she looks that hot in an ordinary dress, what must she look like in something tighter, more revealing? My cock hardens at the mere thought of her wearing something sexier.

  Reaching for the phone, I’m surprised to hear it begin ringing as my fingertips grasp its edges. One look at the screen and a smile tugs on the corners of my lips.

  “Melanie,” I say, allowing her name to roll off of my tongue.

  Her name isn’t the only thing I’d like rolling off of my tongue. I’d like it to be her whole body.

  “Chase,” she says, her voice small, yet cheerful. “Sorry it’s taken me so long to get back to you.”

  I lean back in my office chair and allow my head to rest against the tall leather back.

  “I was just about to go over some applications,” I say, testing the waters.

  “Oh?” she questions.

  “Unless you want the job. I wasn’t sure since I hadn’t heard from you.”

  I can’t stop thinking about the way her dress hugged her petite waist and the way the skirt of it floated around her thighs. My cock moves on its own accord. I want to take it out and stroke it, but right now isn’t the time or place.

  “Y-yes, I’d like to take the job. If it’s still available,” she says.

  “It’s all yours if you want it,” I say.

  Part of me wants her to take it so I can watch her work all week long but the other part of me wants her to decline the offer so I can show up at her place and devour every inch of her body.

  “I do. When can I start?” She asks.

  I can hear the excitement in her voice when she asks about starting and it makes me smile. I want her here as much as she wants to be here.

  “You’ll need to be trained, but it shouldn’t be too hard. It’s just drink orders and you’re used to waiting tables. When can you start?”

  “Tonight—or tomorrow if that’s not okay, or whenever you want.”

  “You can come in tonight,” I say, adjusting my cock through my slacks.

  Just thinking about seeing her tonight makes my cock stand on end.

  “I’ll have Alyssa get you started on training. Can you make it in by 9PM?”

  She hesitates for a moment.

  “What time would I get off?”

  “She works 9PM to 5AM but you don’t have to stay the whole night. It won’t be busy and you’ll probably get bored. You’ll be able to take off around 2, probably.”

  “Okay,” she says a little too slowly for my liking.

  “Is everything okay? If you’re still having doubts about working here, I don’t know if you should give it a try. I can find another girl to fill the position.”

  “No,” she says quickly. “I’ll be there.”

  “Good, and wear something more….sexy.”

  She doesn’t reply but I can hear her breath catch on the other end of the line.

  “See you tonight,” I say before disconnecting the call.

  This should be interesting. How in the hell am I going to keep my hands off of this woman?

  No matter how hard I try, I can’t stop picturing her in the Champagne Room when I gave her a tour. I’m not supposed to think of her that way. I still remember her at the pool when we were kids and had to take swimming lessons during gym class at the YMCA.

  Of course, this was well before she blossomed about half-way through high school.

  She always wore cute bathing suits. There was this one in particular that I remember; we were in second grade. The only reason I remember this is because everyone talked about how she looked like a mermaid—and she did.

  Melanie came walking out to the pool wearing this iridescent swimsuit. The portion that covered her body and chest looked like fish scales, and they all changed color as the light bounced off of them when she walked. The top portion of her swimsuit mimicked seashells perfectly.

  Every girl was jealous of her that week when we had to learn how to swim. She was so damn
proud of that swimsuit, and she came out strutting it like she was hot shit.

  At the time, I thought girls were gross; disgusting. I’d later learn that wasn’t the case but in second grade, I couldn’t care less about her stupid mermaid swimsuit.

  That’s a far different Melanie than in high school, though. The high school Melanie was quiet and to herself. She was always surrounded with her little group of friends and that’s where she stayed.

  Tonight will be interesting to say the least. I look at my watch and see that it’s only 4PM. Less than five hours until she comes walking through that door and I can’t wait to see what she’s got on.

  Chapter 7

  Melanie

  “Ann,” I say after hanging up with Chase. “Will you keep Cam overnight for me tonight?”

  “What? What’s going on?” She asks.

  “I called the bank like you told me to,” I say, rummaging through my closet as I toss clothes onto the bed.

  Why is it that when you need to find something hot or sexy, you never have it? It’s like all of the clothes that I used to wear before I had Cam are gone.

  Then it hits me.

  That bastard probably got rid of all of my clothes the minute that he found out I was pregnant and practically kept me under lock and key. I never noticed it until now, but I also didn’t have a reason to notice.

  I never went out.

  “They said that the full amount of the loan is due, but they said that they might be able to work with me.”

  “Oh! That’s wonderful!”

  I can hear the relief in her voice and I wish I could say that I felt the same, but I don’t because things are never that easy. Out of breath and flustered, I flop onto the bed, straight on my back.

  Staring at the cracked ceiling that needs repaired, I sigh.

  “No, it kind of isn’t,” I begin. “They said that I might qualify for a program that they offer to those who are delinquent on their house payment, but I need to catch up the past due amount.”

  She’s silent for a moment.

  “Oh,” she says, finally getting it. “How far are you behind? Did they say?”

  “Yeah, they definitely told me how far behind I am. It’s ugly, so fucking ugly.”

  I shake my head in disgust. I can’t believe I let myself get this far behind but what are you going to do when you have a baby and bills?

  “How ugly is ugly?” she asks.

  “A little under $4,700,” I say, biting my lip.

  I wait for her to yell at me and tell me how foolish I am but she doesn’t. She sighs right along with me and does what any good friend would do.

  “I’m sorry,” she says. “Damn. I had no clue you were that far behind.”

  “I know. I didn’t realize it either, to be honest. Don’t get me wrong; I knew I was behind, I just didn’t think it was that bad. You miss a month here, you catch up a month there, you get behind a few weeks and the cycle just keeps repeating.”

  “So why do you need me to keep Cam overnight?” she asks, changing the subject.

  “Oh!”

  I sit up on the bed and start rummaging through my closet some more.

  “I called Chase and told him I’ll take the job! After you telling me all week last week that I needed to do it and then getting this letter today, I’m going to put my feet to the fire. Come hell or high water, I’m going to keep this house.”

  “That’s my girl!” she cheers me on.

  Right now I need my own personal cheerleader, so badly.

  “What time do you go in? And what are you going to do about the diner?” she asks.

  The diner. Yeah, my other job.

  “I go in at 9:00 and Chase said I could probably get out of there around 2:00. For the time being, I’m going to have to keep my job at the diner. I can’t just quit.”

  “Why not? You’re not making money there, they aren’t busy and they won’t miss your work because there is no work there.”

  “I know but I hate to just quit like that. They gave me a job when nobody else would since I didn’t have a job history for a long period of time. If it weren’t for the diner, I never would’ve made it through my divorce.”

  Her tongue pops off the roof of her mouth as she sighs; this time she’s sighing at me.

  “Girl, are you crazy? The diner will be just fine without you. You have a little boy to think about who needs you. Instead of killing yourself working both jobs, just leave the diner.”

  “I’ll think about it,” I say.

  I’ve never been the type of person who can just walk out on a job or quit at the toss of a dime, but I know what she means. I do need to look out for Cam and me, but I also have to be a responsible adult. Quitting out of nowhere isn’t very responsible.

  “I have a problem,” I say.

  “What’s that?”

  “I don’t have anything to work in. I think Garrett got rid of all of my party clothes when I found out that I was pregnant and he talked me into marrying him.”

  “What do you need?” She asks.

  “Something sexy,” I say, repeating the words that Chase said to me not even ten minutes ago.

  “Sexy? How sexy?” she laughs.

  “Pretty sexy. I mean, it’s a strip club after all, and I don’t think Chase liked the dress I wore when he gave me a tour last week.”

  “Hm,” she pauses. “I have a thing or two that you can wear. Come on over with Cam and we’ll get you all fixed up.”

  Smiling, I remind myself how lucky I am to have a friend like her that I can count on.

  “Thanks! We’ll be over as soon as I can pack his bag.”

  I’m so nervous and worried about taking this job. Working as a cocktail waitress doesn’t bother me, but the fact that it’s in a strip club changes everything. Then there’s the fact that I’ll be new and the other girls might not like me.

  What if they hate me? What if they think I’m stepping on their turf?

  Top it off with the fact that I’ll be working for Chase Taylor—the hottest man I’ve laid eyes on in, well, forever! After that, you have to add the fact that I still have to deal with my other job and how I’m going to leave them.

  And then my baby, Cam.

  I’m going to have to leave him, too. We’ve never spent the night apart and I’m worried about him. To be more specific, I’m worried about me. I know that he’ll be fine with Ann, but I’m going to miss kissing him goodnight and tucking him into bed.

  I also won’t be the one waking him, and feeding him breakfast. Ann will do all of that. She’ll tuck him in and wake him up for his cereal or sausage; those are the foods he typically eats in the morning. It makes me sad, but losing this house will make me even sadder.

  “Come on, Cam-a-rooni!” I playfully smack his bottom. “Let’s go back over to Ann’s.”

  He whines and scoops up his trucks as he protests leaving his spot on the floor where he had all of his trucks neatly lined up with their engines roaring, but because he’s a good boy he doesn’t give me too much grief.

  “Wow!” Ann whistles as I step out of her bathroom. “Are you going to wait tables or get up on stage?”

  Her eyes look like they might legit fall out of her head and I can’t help but laugh.

  “You’re the one who told me to put this on!” I protest. “As a matter of fact, I remember a certain friend of mine,” I bat my eyelashes at her, “telling me to put this on.”

  “I did, but damn!”

  She shakes her head as she walks around me.

  “Mm-mm-mm!”

  She loudly pops her tongue off the roof of her mouth and smiles.

  “Girl, if you don’t get tips in this outfit, you might as well start packing now. There is no way you’re not going to make some serious bank working in that place.”

  “Do you think so?” I ask.

  Rolling her eyes at me she puts one hand on her hip and holds her other finger up in the air.

  “Hell, yeah!” she tips her head d
own, smiling at me. “Your hair looks great, your makeup looks great, and your clothes are smokin’ hot!”

  I smile even though I’m so nervous and unsure of myself.

  “Okay, I better get going,” I say to her. “I brought over a can of chili for Cam’s dinner. It’s in his bag if you just want to heat it up for him and—,” she cuts me off.

  “I’ve got dinner, and that boy isn’t eating a can of anything. I’ll make us something good to eat like pork chops or fried chicken. He’s in good hands you know?” she teases me.

  “I know. I’m just so nervous. We’ve never spent the night apart from each other and I can’t help but sort of feel like a bad mom, but I know it’s to better our situation so I have to do it.”

  “Even if it weren’t to better your situation, it’s still a good paying job. Who would turn that down?”

  She has a point and we both know it. I hate how logical she can be sometimes.

  “Thanks,” I give her a hug. “I appreciate you taking care of him while I work tonight.”

  “No problem, and just leave him here until you wake up. No sense in you dragging him out of bed here to wake him up right before you want to go to sleep.”

  “Thank you!” I say. “And you know that I’m going into the diner tomorrow too, right?”

  “For what? Just give them your uniform when you pick up your paycheck next Friday.”

  “Huh? I’m not quitting. I have a shift to work tomorrow morning. I have to give them my two weeks,” I explain.

  “Mel, you can’t possibly be serious. There’s no way that you can work two jobs for two weeks. Besides, you’ll have your new boss to vouch for you when you find your next job,” she says.

  “We’ll see,” I say. “Wish me luck!”

  “I would but I don’t want you to get to ‘lucky’,” she says, winking as she throws up air quotes on the word lucky.

  Scurrying out of her apartment, I give myself a glance in the rearview mirror before I pull out onto the street and smooth my hair. I hope I’m making the right decision. All I can think about is the mortgage company and keeping my house.