by Laura Day
“Yes, they are,” I cooed. I had naturally large breasts – a nice set of D cups. Many women at the club envied me for it, but I couldn't deny that my pregnancy helped them grow a bit bigger. Nor did I have to advertise that fact either.
“Do you like them?” I purred.
“I love them,” he said, massaging my breasts like someone might do to a melon at the store before they purchase it.
It was entirely too awkward, but I let it go. Most men were awkward with us; that was nothing new. Jason was just a good boy, obviously lacking experience in the sex department. Hell, he might actually even be a virgin. Neither he nor Tyrone looked to be over twenty-one. They might be fresh out of high school for all I knew.
When Jason's turn was up, I climbed back on stage, glanced at where Mercer was sitting, and frowned when I saw that he was gone. I couldn't ignore Tyrone, so I did my little dance, more distracted than usual, hoping to catch sight of Mercer somewhere. I rushed through the dance, and that was a mistake.
My tips were down.
But I didn't freak out about it. As soon as I was finished, I rushed out to the club floor, hoping to find him. I knew I was losing out on potential customers by ignoring them, but I had to know. How did Mercer know my name?
I searched every chair and booth in the place, but he was nowhere to be found. He'd left while I'd been distracted performing for Jason. He'd slipped out after I saw him, which only made me more suspicious, and a little scared. It was as if he was trying to hide from me – yet watch me at the same time.
A chill went through my body. Holding my arms across my chest, I retreated to the back room, feeling uneasy. I'd ask Sherry about going home early. It was a rough night for tips – to say the least – but there was no way I'd be able to keep working while my mind was on Mercer.
Damn him. Damn him right to hell.
***
“You're home early,” Kelly, my babysitter, said as I entered my hotel room.
“Yeah, I wasn't feeling good. How's Laila?”
She flipped off the TV. “Sleeping like a lamb.”
Kelly was a college student, one of the first people I'd met after moving out here. I was looking for a babysitter and saw her ad in a local paper. She'd seemed nice, we got on well, and the rest was history. Kelly was the type who'd grown up with privileges I'd never had – a happy family, a middle-class income, and access to college. But if my dingy hotel room or choice of career upset her, she didn't say anything about it. And she certainly never judged me for it.
My room contained nothing but a bed, a small kitchen area with a microwave, and a bathroom. Laila's crib was beside my bed, next to where Kelly was sitting. I walked over to my baby, so peaceful and innocent, and smiled. She was my entire world.
Her skin and hair were dark like mine. You couldn't see a trace of Ricky in her – thankfully. My genes overpowered his, which gave me hope that my sweet little girl would remain sweet forever. And that she would never know the violence or lure of alcohol the way her daddy did. If my physical genes were so prominent, I hoped that my mental and emotional genes would be as well.
“Everything okay, Val?” Kelly asked, her blue eyes watching me carefully.
“Yeah, just a weird night at the club, but you know – what should I expect, right?”
“Did someone treat you badly?” Her voice had risen.
“No, nothing like that.”
“Good,” she said, picking up some books and stuffing them into her bag. “Because you don't deserve that shit. No matter what you do for a living, you don't deserve the crap men say and do to you.”
Oh, naive Kelly. She probably had no idea what I'd gone through in my life. A few lewd comments at the club were nothing compared to what I'd endured with Ricky, but she'd never know because there was no reason to tell her, and relive those years. Nor did I want her pity. I was a strong, independent woman and for some reason, it was important that she saw me that way.
But again, I couldn't say that to her. She was only trying to be supportive and kind. And I appreciated the gesture – it was something I didn't have much of in my life.
“Thank you,” I told her. “It's nice to be reminded that I'm still a human being considering what I do for a living.”
Kelly nodded. “I know it's hard, Val, but you're a good mom. You're doing the best you can.”
I reached into my pocket for her pay, but she stopped me.
“It was a short night, Laila fell asleep early. I got studying done, no need to pay me.”
I pressed the money into her hand anyway.
“You're so hard headed sometimes,” Kelly said with a laugh. She stared down at the cash in her hand.
“I don't believe in handouts. You don't need to feel sorry for me, Kelly. I'm making ends meet.” Barely. But that wasn't important. I didn't want her pity or her charity.
Kelly held the wad of bills in her hand for a moment. “It's not a handout, Val. I'm serious – ”
“Zip it and keep the money.”
No, she didn't need the money, I knew that, but it wasn't the point. The point was that she worked for me, she provided a service, and she deserved to be paid. I wasn't about to take advantage of people, that's not who I was.
“Thank you,” Kelly said softly, grabbing her bag. “If you call off work tomorrow, just let me know. Otherwise, I'll be here at the usual time.”
“Thanks.”
As Kelly smiled at me, Laila whimpered, so I gave a quick wave before rushing over to the crib. Cradling Laila in my arms, I took in her scent, closing my eyes and reveling in it. I heard the door to the room open and close as Kelly left, but it wasn't until after Laila fell back to sleep that I noticed the wad of cash on the table by the window.
Kelly took her bag and left the money. I'd make sure to give it to her tomorrow, but tonight, I was beat. I had too much going on in my head, and I simply wanted to curl up in bed and fall asleep, pushing all thoughts of everything – especially Mercer – far, far away.
Which was easier said than done, of course.
Chapter Five
Valencia
“Your friend is back again,” Angel said as I walked into the club.
“Did he ask for me?”
I was kind of hoping he did because then it would give me an excuse to talk to him.
“No, he didn't ask for anyone, but we all know why he's here,” she said, rolling her eyes as she looked into the mirror, adjusting her lipstick.
Fine lines formed around her mouth from smoking, and her other bad habits, all of which were taking a toll on her, requiring her to wear more and more makeup. Her foundation was caked on thick tonight, pasty and gross in the regular light, but luckily for her, likely less noticeable in the darkness of the club.
I pulled my hair out of my ponytail, letting it fall over my shoulders. It was wavy – I'd decided to let my natural waves flow tonight. My hair was still damp from the shower, though. Letting it air-dry takes hours. But I didn't have time to fuss with it, as I'd been spending that time with Laila. I missed most evenings with her, so I dedicated as much time as I could with her during the day, even it meant forgoing sleep.
The dark circles under my eyes would need to be covered up before I went out to the floor. I applied concealer under my eyes, but the bags were still there. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I wondered if I was going to turn out like most of the older girls around the club. Was this all I was capable of being? Staring over at Angel, I felt sorry for her. What would she do when her career was finally over? When her breasts sagged, and her fine lines turned to wrinkles and age spots? There wasn't much work for middle-aged dancers, sadly. And I didn't think she had any other useful life skills.
Not that her life was any of my business. It just reminded me of my own life. I couldn't live like this forever.
“What are you staring at?” Angel asked, glaring at me.
“Nothing.” I bit my lip and turned back to my own mirror.
I was too fearful o
f telling her that she looked like she was aging more every single day. It wasn't like we were BFF's, who could bond over their problems. We barely even talked like normal, civil adults.
Sherry stopped behind me and handed me something. A pill.
“What's this?” I asked, looking down at it.
“Adderall. It'll perk you right up.”
“No thank you,” I mumbled, handing it back to her. “I don't do drugs.”
“Listen, honey, none of us ever intend to, but sometimes we're required to. It's for the job. You're sleepy, you're up late, and you need to work. Last night's performance wasn't up to snuff, and I think you know that. If this isn't a fix, well then find something that works for you, darling.”
Sherry's voice was harsher than before, and it took me by surprise. She hurried off, shaking her head and mumbling something under her breath.
“Don't worry about her,” Angel said after a few moments.
It was the first kind thing she said to me. Or at least, the first thing without sarcasm attached to it.
I knew why Sherry was upset. I was a big-ticket girl right now, and if my performances were lacking, it would mean less money for the club. And less money for the club meant less money to pay Sherry whatever she was getting paid to oversee us.
I guess that could be my future - pushing drugs on girls who'd had a rough night, just to keep the crowds coming in.
“Thank you,” I told Angel, but she didn't respond. She pretended as if she hadn't heard me. Probably better that way.
“You better hurry. Can't keep your man waiting,” she finally said.
My man? If only I had a man, a real man. Not just someone who paid me for a few minutes of fun.
I was ready, or at least, as ready as I'd ever be.
And ready or not, Mercer was out there, waiting. Or who knew, maybe he chickened out again and left, leaving me still without answers.
Either way, I was about to find out.
***
Mercer was sitting in the same booth he always sat in. Tucked away in a dark corner, alone. I watched as Trinity walked over to him, smiling and flirting, but he didn't respond to her tactics, and she moved on with a sour look on her face, leaving him alone once more.
Taking a deep breath, I pulled my thigh highs into place as I steadied myself. I'd sneak up on him, come up from behind. He wouldn't have enough time to sneak away and disappear – he'd have to talk to me. At least, for a few minutes. Or maybe a few seconds, because let's face it, little old me couldn't stop him from leaving the club if he damned well wanted to.
If he saw me coming, though, he didn't make a run for it. Instead, when he saw me, he nodded in my direction, which gave me the necessary push I needed to keep going. Not even Trinity had elicited that much of a response from him.
“Well hello again,” I said, sliding into the booth. I was smiling on the outside, but on the inside, I was quivering like a bowl of jello. I wanted answers, and I wanted to grab him and demand that he give them to me. But I was going by that old saying – you attract more bees with honey than vinegar. Or something like that.
Mercer took a long drink from his glass, which smelled like whiskey again.
“Hello, Queenie,” he said, running a hand through his long, dark hair.
“Quit messing with me, Mercer. We both know you know my real name, so why the act, huh?”
He didn't say a word. My accusation didn't even seem to bother him. He just stared at me, a hint of amusement in his eyes and the ghost of a smile touching the corners of his mouth. He liked this; he liked leaving me in the dark. He liked watching me squirm underneath his gaze.
“Seriously,” I said, slamming my hands down on the table, “if you want something from me, come out and say it. Stop beating around the bush. I want to know what the hell is going on and how you know my real name.”
“I want nothing from you, Val. You have nothing to worry about.”
“Nothing to worry about? Golly, well that makes me feel a lot better, thanks,” I told him, shaking my head, and sighing. I wanted answers, and it was clear it would be like pulling teeth to get them out of him. “Why are you hanging around here, watching me then? You said this place wasn't your scene, so why else would you be here unless you wanted something from me?”
Mercer met my gaze and held it as he shook his head. Taking a long swallow, he finished his drink and set his glass down.
“Truthfully?” he said. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”
He slipped to the edge of the booth as if to leave. I grabbed his arm, forced him to stop and look at me. I stayed like that for a long moment, trying to get my heart under control before I spoke again.
“Make sure I was okay? What in the hell is that supposed to mean?”
He smiled at me but then pushed it away and stood up.
“Nothing,” he said, pulling his arm free.
He hurried away, disappearing into the dark club. I rushed after him – or at least tried to rush in my stilettos, which went about as well as you would imagine – but he was out the door before I could reach him. And I couldn't follow him out. I contemplated doing it anyway, just as I heard a voice behind me.
“Don't even think about,” Sherry said, grabbing my waist and pulling me back toward the stage. “First rule here, girlie – you never follow them home. Now get back to work and find yourself a new man to chase after, the club's full of 'em.”
She was right about that, but of course, none of them were Mercer.
Even though he was as mysterious as he was quiet, I couldn't deny that I wanted to talk to him. Like really talk to him, and find out what the hell was going on.
He'll be back.
I walked over to a group of thirty-something men in ties. They weren't Mercer – hell, they weren't even in the same league as him looks-wise – but I could tell they had money. They would have to do for tonight.
Chapter Six
Valencia
Another night went by with no sign of Mercer. I'd looked for him again, but he didn't show up. It was seriously distracting me; making me focus on a man who wasn't there, who wasn't paying me, rather than the men who were there, and wanted to pay me. And because of that, I wasn't bringing in as much money as usual, which caused some tension with Sherry.
What Mercer had said bothered me. Why had he felt that he needed to check on me to make sure I was okay? Did he know something I didn't? Was he somehow connected to Ricky? What in the hell was going on?
“Be careful out there,” Trinity said as I packed up my bag and headed for the exit.
The club's parking lot would be dark, but the bouncers would see us out if we asked them too. Most nights I didn't bother them, but all of this stuff with Mercer made me think I should. I walked toward Bobby, a large, bald man who was an army veteran. He was tough as nails and intimidating.
“Hey, Bobby – ” I started to ask, but he didn't hear me as Sherry came out of the back room carrying a bank deposit bag.
“All set, Sherry?” he asked her.
“Yep, ready to go.”
They turned to me at the same time.
Bobby smiled at me. “Did you need something, doll?”
I knew I could still ask him to escort me out, even if he was taking care of Sherry's night deposit. Or I could find one of the other bouncers. But what was I worried about? Seriously, it was what, a few feet to my car?
“Nothing, I just wanted to say good night, that's all,” I told him instead, cringing on the inside.
I should have just asked, but I hated being a burden to anybody, and they seemed busy. Not that either one would have minded. They talked about safety all the time.
“Ask Trevor to escort you out,” Sherry suggested as if she’d somehow read my mind.
I nodded, bit my lip, and looked around. Trevor wasn’t around. He was probably already walking Trinity or Angel or one of the other girls out. I'll be fine.
I walked toward the back exit, adjusting my bag on my shoul
der. Just to be safe, I pulled out my keys and held them between my fingers like I'd been taught when I was a kid, ready to slash some jackass in the face with them if it came to that. I gripped the small bottle of mace in my other hand. I had this.
As I pulled open the heavy back door, it took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the dim lighting outside. The door then slammed with a heavy clunk behind me before they had fully adjusted, and that's when I saw nothing but darkness. The streetlights barely lit up the small parking lot – the one set aside for employees only. But there was no sign of anyone – Trevor, Trinity, Angel or any of the other girls for that matter. I was alone out there.
