Viewing Room

by L. P. Dover

  “I don’t know, maybe it’s the jolt of espresso I had this morning.”

  She yawns. “Maybe that’s what I need this morning. As soon as I seat Mrs. Bates I’m going to make some coffee. You want some?”

  I wave her off. “Nah, I’m good. Thanks though.” She walks out of the room and a couple seconds later, she shows up with Jennifer Bates—however, I already know who she is. She almost looks the same as she did in high school, only now she’s lost a little bit of weight and her hair is a gorgeous blonde.

  “Jennifer Bloom?” She greets me with a smile and I hug her. “I can’t believe it’s you. Please, have a seat.” I look over at Elaine. “I graduated high school with her. It’s been …”

  “Fifteen years,” Jennifer says.

  Elaine backs away to the door. “Looks like you have a lot to catch up on. Let me know if you need anything.”

  “Thanks, Elaine.” Once she shuts the door, I turn my attention to Jennifer. “You look amazing.”

  “So do you. You always said you were going to be a lawyer. I’m glad you did because there’s no one else I’d want to handle my case.”

  I point the seat in front of me. “Please, have a seat. We’ll get started. I have to say it’s good to see you, though. I only wish it was under better circumstances.” Opening my notebook, I clasp my hands over top of it. “I hear you want a divorce.”

  She scoffs. “You have no idea.”

  “Do you mind telling me why?”

  Her head lowers and I can see it’s taken a toll on her. Jennifer and I were friends with the same people back in high school, always acting crazy. Once we graduated and went our separate ways, I never heard from her until now.

  “He’s cheating on me. I don’t know how I didn’t notice before.”

  “Does he know you’re filing for a divorce?”

  She shakes her head and meets my gaze. “Not yet. I want to know everything I can do to fuck the bastard in the ass. I know you’ll fight for me.”

  “You’re right there. I don’t like men who cheat.” Grabbing a pen, I write down some notes. “Okay, let’s see. Do you have proof that he’s cheating? I’ll need something to go on in court.”

  She pulls out her phone and hands it to me. My breath hitches the second I see the Society X membership card. “I know it’s not much to go on, but he’s a member of Society X. I’ve never been in there, but I’m not stupid. I’ve heard stories. Not to mention, I followed him a couple of times when he said he’s working but ends up there. If I knew the right people, I’d find a way in there and fuck him up.”

  I scroll through more of the pictures and stop at one. “Is this his datebook?” I ask.

  She glances at the picture and nods. “I snuck into his work office and searched through it. Last Wednesday was one of the days I followed him when he ended up at the club. He wrote down seven o’clock in the VR on that date. VR stands for viewing room.”

  “How do you know that?”

  She nods toward the phone. “Because he spells it out at one point in those pictures and then uses the abbreviation for the rest of the time.”

  I stare at the pictures and sigh. “This proves he’s having fun in other places, but it doesn’t necessarily say he’s cheating even though we both pretty much know he is.”

  Her face falls. “Do you think we can ask the owner of the club?”

  I shake my head. “He’s not going to help. The club has strict rules about anonymity. You’ll need to get someone in there.”

  “And how are we going to do that? I can’t join the club. My friends are all Chad’s friends’ wives, stuck up bitches who think they’re God’s gift to men.”

  She always loved to date the popular boys in school who couldn’t keep a girlfriend for more than a week. I guess it doesn’t surprise me she’d pick a husband who’s the same way.

  “How did you meet this guy?” I ask her.

  She blows out a frustrated breath. “In college. He played for the Lacrosse team and I fell for him hard. His smile was what got me. I didn’t realize it got him a thousand other women as well. He’s a smooth talker.”

  “Do you still love him?”

  With trembling lips, she averts her gaze. “I wish I didn’t. I know with time it’ll go away, but it’s so hard being betrayed.”

  “I know,” I murmur. “We’ll make sure he pays for hurting you. Do you want to go ahead with the divorce process?”

  She nods. “Yes. I can’t stand being in the same house as him.”

  “All right, I’ll get everything going.”

  “But how are we going to prove he cheated? I don’t know of anyone who can get into Society X.”

  I stare at her, thinking I must be out of my mind. Pulling out my purse, I reach into my wallet and remove Jared’s card, the escort who invited me to join the club. When I set it in front of Jennifer, she gasps.

  “Why do you have that?”

  Grabbing the card, I pick up the phone. “Because I’m about to become a member. I’ll find your husband, and when I do, he’ll regret the day he put his dick in someone else.”

  Her face lights up. “And that right there is the Kennedy I knew. I trust you.”

  I dial Jared’s number and it only rings once before his voice comes over the line. “Hello?”

  “Hi, Jared, it’s Kennedy Vaughn. I’m ready to become a member.”

  A small chuckle escapes his lips. “Let’s get you in then.”

  Walking out of that coffee shop was the hardest thing I’ve done in a while. What a bunch of dumb luck it is that I run into her. If it weren’t my grandma needing a ride to the doctor I’d still be sleeping.

  “Fuck,” I exclaim as I walk to my car.

  “Anytime,” the woman I pass says.

  Normally I’d wink at her, but not today; I keep walking. I’m late picking up my grandma, I have no coffee, and I left without getting Kennedy’s number, which means I’ll be camping out here at the coffee shop until I see her again. We can just add crazy ass stalker to my list of jobs. What the hell is wrong with me?

  The drive to Gram’s is easy since she doesn’t live that far from me. Ever the gentleman, I go to her door so I can help her down the front porch stairs.

  “There’s my favorite boy,” she says, opening the door. She tries to give me a kiss, but I shy away. The last thing I need is for her to ask what I had for breakfast. A nice plate of pussy might not go over too well with her.

  “I think I’m getting a cold, Grandma. Best not to get too close to me.”

  “Oh no, maybe you should see the doctor, too. I’ll see if they can fit you in.”

  I shake my head. “I’m fine, I promise. We need to concentrate on you getting better.” I help her down to my car and open the passenger side door. It kills me that no one else in the family gives a damn about her to take her to the doctor. I’m all she has left … and she’s all I have, too. After my parents died when I was three, my grandmother was the one who took me in and raised me. I have a couple of aunts and uncles but they’re too self-involved to give a shit about anyone other than themselves.

  We start on our way to the doctor’s office and she sighs. “When are you going to find a nice young lady to settle down with?”

  Kennedy comes to mind and I smile. “I don’t think I’m ready. Besides, I’m far too cute to be tied down to one woman. What will all the ladies at your bridge club think if I’m off the market?”

  She chuckles. “They’d all have a heart attack. They love fantasizing about my good-looking grandson.”

  I want to add that they’d have a heart attack if they knew what I did for a living. Who knows, they’d likely book me for their next club event under the guise that they’re playing cards. Old women can be sneaky as shit. They’re also some of the kinkiest people I’ve met.

  We arrive at the doctor’s office and my grandmother clasps onto my arm as we walk inside. Luckily, they call her back as soon as she signs in. Usually I don’t mind waiting because the rec
eptionist is hot, but today I don’t pay her any mind and can feel her eyes shooting me with daggers. Each time I look up from my phone, she’s glaring at me. She doesn’t know that I’m Googling the shit out of every female within a hundred-mile radius named Kennedy.

  As soon as we’re done, we go to lunch. It’s a nice little bistro that I like to treat my grandma to every now and again. She likes to brag to her friends on how I treat her. I also send her flowers. She’s the only parent I have so I take care of her.

  We have the same conversation weekly and nothing really changes. I hope that some day I’m sitting here and can tell her that I met a lovely woman, but that’s not likely until I stop stripping. People view stripping as a step above prostitution. I can see why, but at Society X, we’re all about helping the masses realize their sexual prowess. For example, the other night with Kennedy—I can easily bet she’s never fucked in a car, and yet she rode my dick like a fucking champion bull rider. Today when I saw her, she was ashamed of what she did because of what I do for work. If I were some guy she met at a bar, or her husband, she’d probably feel liberated, instead of dirty.

  I know what Kennedy thinks of me. Her words were laced with ignorance when she reminded me that I’m a stripper. That’s how she sees me. Thing is, I don’t care. I just want a chance to prove her wrong and to show her that I’m a stand-up guy who takes care of his priorities.

  I also know she’s perfect for me. There are things I’ve never experienced before that I have with her. I’ve grown immune while performing and a master at keeping my dick under control … until I met Kennedy.

  After lunch is over, I drop my grandmother back off at her house and promise to be here early on Sunday for church. I always fear that when I walk in the place is going to burn down or someone from the congregation is going to recognize me. It’s these churchgoers that you have to watch out for.

  Driving across the bridge to work, I beat the city traffic. The parking lot is starting to fill up and it’s only late afternoon. Inside, Donnie is getting oiled down and he’s flexing his muscles while he does it.

  “Who’s on tonight?” I ask, picking up the call sheet. Every few days we get newbies who come in and try this out. Some stay, most go. It takes a lot of self-confidence to get up on stage and take your clothes off so women can judge you. If you’re not well-endowed that could affect your tips. If you can’t dance, women get bored. You really have to have a lot of charisma and charm to work the stage.

  G Money comes strolling in and picks up the call sheet. He’s booked for a private party tonight, along with a few other dancers. Those pay big money and are something I’m striving for.

  Donnie comes over and mock hugs me. “What time you going in?” I ask.

  Taking the sheet from my hand, he reads it over. “Looks like I have an hour. It’s a fucking threesome.”

  “You make it sound like it’s a bad thing.”

  He shrugs. “Fantasy play. I’ve been doing this for a month or so, repeat clients.” He sets the sheet down and starts working out, making his abs look good for when he hits the stage. After changing into my “work” jeans and underwear, I decide to hit the floor and entice a few women into some lap dances—it’s something I need to do to earn a living. However, Kennedy’s voice is in my head reminding me that she’s too good for me because I’m a stripper.

  The Monday evening crowd is fairly dense and probably not big spenders. There are a few ladies in the corner who likely spent the day shopping downtown and are now unwinding.

  “Enjoying the view?” I ask, trying my best to get into the mood. It’s hard when I don’t give a shit.

  Two of them ignore me, keeping their eyes on the on the stage, and the other two smile like they’re about to get lucky.

  “We are now,” the blonde says.

  “Great, anyone care for a lap dance?”

  They both giggle and the blonde tells me she does. I take her chair and pull it away from the table so I have some space to move.

  “There aren’t many rules, but there is an important one. I can touch you, but you can’t touch me.”

  She sticks her lower lip out in a pout and while I used to find it cute, I don’t. I’d rather see green lustful eyes staring back at me, watching me as I show her how much she turns me on. Instead, I’m shimming my hips for a woman who is probably looking to get lucky.

  My hands move my pants down while I dance, underwear next, but never past my thighs. When she sees my dick, she licks her lips.

  You wish, sunshine. I stroke my dick for her, bringing it close to her face before backing away and giving her a nice view of my ass.

  The second I feel the slap, I stop and pull up my pants. I turn and glare at her, but before I can even say anything, she’s being hauled up out of her chair, throwing slurs in my direction and saying it’s my fault. Fucking wonderful.

  Her friends are riled up; yelling and screaming as if it’s my fault she can’t keep her hands to herself. The rules are simple—don’t touch. The only time it’s allowed is if you’re in our exclusive rooms and those aren’t for everyone.

  Heading backstage, I throw my step box against the pile of them in the corner.

  “What happened?” G Money asks as he comes off stage.

  “Fucking bitch slapped my ass, and then her friends got all up in my shit because they got tossed.”

  “You should’ve farted on her.”

  “Jesus Christ, Gary. I’d like to keep my job. I have a feeling management won’t take too kindly to the dancers shitting on the patrons.” Even though it’d be funny as hell, I can’t take the risk. I need my job.

  “I used to do it if they didn’t tip enough. The lap dances are cheap and they tip a fucking dollar. Goddamn Las Vegas and the entire dollar titty bars are giving exclusive clubs like this one a bad name. Bitches need to be giving up the cash. Can’t get laid at home so they come here for some action and you know damn well they’re rubbing their clits in the bathroom.”

  G Money seems to have reached his pinnacle as an adult performer. Maybe he should try straight up porn from now on. Women conserve money. I get it. Dollar tips suck, but if you have the tools to turn them on, they’ll start throwing money at you.

  My night doesn’t get a whole lot better and I find myself watching the door for a familiar redhead. Deep down I knew it’d be dumb luck for her to show up again, but I had hoped. I count my tips at the end of the night, change, and head to my car, still with the slight hope that Kennedy is in the parking lot. I need to change my train of thought and get the fuck over her. Unless something changes, or I’m the right place at the right time, I’m probably never going to see her again.

  I drive across the bridge, returning to my dull little existence away from the big city lights of downtown Portland, and think about the changes I could make to be the right kind of guy for someone like Kennedy. Thing is, if it’s not her, why the fuck should I change?

  What am I doing? There’s seriously something wrong with me. No respectable woman like myself should be waiting in a coffee shop parking lot for a stripper. But dammit to hell, if he’s not just sex on a stick. I arrived a few minutes early so I could get my coffee and hurry out before Hunter showed up, but I couldn’t seem to get out of the car. My body wants to see him again, but my mind is telling me to run before I get attached. Who am I kidding? I’d be stupid to get attached to a guy like that.

  “We’re just having fun. It’ll grow old soon,” I say, wishing I could believe my lies.

  Scrolling through my phone, I find Jennifer’s number. It rings a couple of times and her voice sounds groggy when she answers. “Kennedy?”

  “Yeah, it’s me. Sorry it’s so early, but I’m heading over to Society X later on today to sign my membership papers. Before I request time in one of the rooms, I need to know what you think Chad is interested in. I know he likes the viewing room, but do you know if he prefers to be the one watching, or the one actually performing?”

  She sighs. “Make
s me sick just thinking about this.”

  “I know,” I murmur, “but I need to know what you think. I have my own assumptions, but you know him better than I do.”

  Chad Bates is a very good-looking man, muscular and athletic. From what I could gather about his personality, he’d most likely be the one to perform. By watching, he’d get nothing out of it. He’s the type to want carnal satisfaction.

  She sniffles, but I can hear the anger in her tone. “He’s outgoing, so he’d perform. Most likely with two women if that’s allowed. That’s one of his fantasies.”

  I can’t begin to imagine what she’s going through. “Thank you, Jennifer. One way or another, I’ll catch him.”

  “I know you will. I’m just ready to stop pretending. If there’s anything else you need, let me know.”

  “Actually, there might be. Do you think there’s any way you can go to Chad’s office and look in his datebook again? That way, when I make my appointments at Society X, we can see if he’s booked for the same time.”

  She gasps. “That’s a good idea.”

  Out of the corner of my eye, I see a silver car pull into the parking lot. My breath hitches when I see Hunter walking toward the coffee shop entrance, dressed in a pair of jeans and a snug, green T-shirt.

  “You still there?” Jennifer asks.

  I shake my head. “Yep, I’m here. I’m going to make an appointment tomorrow night and then do it weekly for the viewing room and give them Chad’s description. If you find out he’s going to be there, make sure to text me.”

  “I will. You have no idea how much I appreciate this. I know it’s probably not good for your reputation to be seen there.”

  “I’ll be fine, I promise.” As much as I want to catch Chad, I don’t personally want to be seen at the club on an every day basis; especially, having to watch people I don’t know have sex on stage. Now if it’s a private performance by Hunter, I’ll be all for it. I say my good-byes to Jennifer and take a deep breath before getting out of my car. I can see Hunter through the window, sitting at the same table I sat in last time with a coffee in his hands.