Plus, my office hasn’t exactly made it easy. Staffers set up some fake site called Gold Medallion, which believe or not, provides male escorts. Evidently, there’s a dummy profile for me that gets contacted non-stop. But the thing is, the women who want to date a dude like that are terrible in the exact way that I’ve been trying to avoid. They want someone who speaks five languages and travels all over the world. Sure, I’ve traveled a lot, but I’d like to slow down a little. It gets old when your bedroom is really the cabin on Air Force One. Plus, I only speak one language, and that’s American. It sounds so country-bumpkin and backwards, but it’s true for better or worse.
So yeah, sometimes I go rogue to find a woman. I have to leave the circles that form my usual stomping grounds, and look afield for fresh meat. It does no good to go to bars and restaurants around here, it’d just be the same old thing. It’d do no good to hit up Maryland or Virginia either, I’d be recognized there as well.
Thus, the anonymity of New York, although of course, anonymity is relative in my case. But you do the best you can, and no one expects to see a sitting American president at a place like the Flamingo on a Tuesday night.
After all, most high-class guys would head to some place like Scores or Elevated. They want to smoke cigars indoors while paying for over-priced liquor. But me? If I want to find a woman, I head to the Pink Flamingo or Booty Boots over on West Forty-Fourth. The guys there don’t care about top-shelf whiskey. They’re more likely to be downing PBR or Coors, and that’s fine. After all, no one’s expecting to see the American president at some downhome strip joint, and that’s why I go. People only see what they want to see.
So yeah, I was there when Pearl Evanescence came on stage, and shit, but the woman blew me away. Lush and curvy everywhere with tits and ass to spare. Exactly my type. The kind of girl who eats everything on her plate, before asking for seconds. And during that dance, when our eyes connected and my dick spurted involuntarily? Holy cow.
So I left without a trace, but that didn’t mean that it was the end of the road for us. In the limo, I called up Daniel, my trusty assistant.
“Hey boss,” came his merry voice. “What can I help you with?”
Daniel’s a twenty-five year old staffer whose primary purpose in life is to be my body man. I don’t know if that’s a good or a bad thing, but at least he picks up on the first ring even when it’s 11 p.m.
“Hey Dan,” was my growl. “Can you help me find the name of a girl I just met?” Of course, I was taking some liberties here. “Her name is Pearl Evanescence, and I’m looking to get some intel on her.”
My assistant didn’t even blink an eye. I’ve done this before, and my loyal staffer’s familiar with the drill.
“Pearl Evanescence from where?” he asked in a business-like voice, probably already jotting things into his notepad. “Are you up in New York?”
“Yeah, at the Pink Flamingo over on West Thirty-Third. She did a set tonight and I’d like to get a work-up done.”
A few more scratches over the phone before Daniel came back on again.
“Sure thing, boss. We should have this ready for you Monday morning, no prob.”
And with that, we said our goodnights and clicked off. Because I can’t exactly date just anyone. It’s not good for national security. Who knows if there’s some Russian honeypot planted in order to get my secrets? So at the very least, we run a full background check on the girl to make sure she’s an American citizen, and kosher to boot. She’s gotta have credit history, no criminal record, and no obvious drug dependencies. That’s just to start. A much more thorough check goes on after Daniel hands off her file to the Secret Service, but for now, that was enough.
So I sat back in the limo, on my way to a hotel in Midtown. The city’s gorgeous at night, even with the high-rises empty and the occasional bum staggering down the sidewalk. There’s something about Manhattan that calls to me, and I plan on moving here after my four-year term is up.
But for tonight, there was nothing to do but wait. My assistant would do the preliminary background check, and then Pearl Evanescence would be brought to meet her newest client … the American President.
CHAPTER FIVE
Susie
I let myself in the backdoor of the Flamingo. Mickey D had called with a last-minute request, and reluctantly, I’d acquiesced.
“Really, there’s no one?” were my skeptical words. “I’m the only girl that’s available?”
“There’s no one,” came his whiny voice over the phone. “I swear, Susie, you’re our only hope. And after management’s been so nice to you, don’t you think you should give a little something back? Come on,” he wheedled.
I rolled my eyes but there was truth to his words. After all, the Flamingo has been good to me in its own way. I make a lot of money, which is a big thing in and of itself. But also, management is relatively nice, meaning that they don’t force me to do lap dances or anything like that. I’m able to do my sets on the stage, grab my dollars, and then head back home without having to kiss up to customers or flaunt my assets while trying to get them to buy more drinks.
So with a sigh, I checked my calendar. Well, not that it made a difference. I’d still have to be at the New Academy bright and early tomorrow morning, but I guess picking up an extra shift wouldn’t kill me.
“Alright,” came my reluctant voice. “The ten p.m. shift?”
“No, the seven p.m. one,” said Mickey in a delighted voice. “Just seven to ten.”
“Really?” I asked, brows raised. “But there’s hardly anyone there then. You can’t be one girl short?”
Mickey was ready.
“No, we like the Flamingo fully staffed at all times. You know that, Susie. Plus, customers start drifting in at nine or so, so it’s important to be prepared. Bring your best outfits, just like usual,” he trilled. “See you then!”
And with that, he was gone. I hung up, still a little puzzled. Honestly, the Flaming has probably fifteen customers between the hours of seven to ten, but then again, Mickey was right. It was better to be prepared once the rush started late at night.
So with a sigh, I got into the shower, sudsing myself off before stepping out and staring at myself in the mirror. Wow. Was that really me, with the flushed cheeks and curly brown hair? It was, for sure. But my double life as a librarian cum stripper lent a sparkle to my eyes and a special curve to my smile because I had secrets no one would ever know.
Shimmying into a red bra and panty set, I pulled out my highest heels and then wrapped my curvy form into a trench coat. It was a standard dancing outfit. With a couple accessories, the red bikini could be turned into a 20’s flapper, Medusa, or even the Queen of England, depending on what mood I was in.
So with another secret smile, I grabbed my purse and headed out to the club. And after letting myself into the backdoor, I looked for Mickey.
“He around?” were my words.
Camilla, an older stripper who’s had lots of plastic surgery done, jerked her thumb to the back while smacking her gum.
“Better be quick, girlie,” she said. “You’re on in fifteen.”
I knocked on the wooden door in the back.
“Mickey?” I called. “It’s me, Susie.”
Immediately, his voice sounded.
“Come!”
Hmm, weird. The tone was a little high and nervous-sounding. I wonder why? But when I pushed the door open, the reason became immediately clear. Because a guy as big as a Mack truck stood next to Mickey’s desk, imposing and huge. He had a flat top and absolutely no expression on his face.
“Heya!” greeted Mickey, scrambling up from his chair a little too quckly. “How are you, Suse? I mean, Pearl.”
What the hell? What was going on? But I let myself into the office.
“You know I don’t do lap dances,” came my warning voice, casting a suspicious glance at the stranger. “I don’t do any type of extras, for that matter.”
Mickey simpered a bit whil
e showing me to a chair.
“Of course not!” he sang. “That’s not why you’re here at all. Let me introduce you to Harry.”
Hmm, no last name? But that’s common in my line of work, so I nodded although my eyes were still suspicious.
“Hello,” came my frigid greeting. “How are you?”
He nodded his head.
“Ma’am.”
That’s all? He wasn’t going to say more? But Mickey jumped into this awkward situation.
“So Harry’s here because he has a proposition for you.”
I stood up to go, shoving my chair back.
“No,” was my firm word, shooting daggers at my manager. “Absolutely not. You know I don’t do this, I don’t even know why you’re asking.”
“Wait, hold on, hold on!” begged Mickey, both hands up in a placating gesture. “Just hear me out. Harry here has a proposition, but it’s not for him. It’s for his boss.”
I shook my head wearily.
“Doesn’t matter,” were my curt words. “I don’t do extras, not even for the President of the United States.”
At that, Harry’s eyes flickered a little, although I couldn’t exactly see why it mattered. That was just an expression. Did it trigger something?
But Mickey was babbling now.
“It’s just a date,” he assured me, voice running at a million miles an hour. “What’s so bad about that? Nothing extra. Just two hours of your time, and you’re good to go.”
I shook my head.
“No,” was my firm word. “Didn’t you hear me? That’s not part of my schtick and you know it, Mickey. How many times do I have to tell you?”
But my manager’s expression fell then.
“Well, I didn’t want it to come to this, but then you’re fired Pearl. The Pink Flamingo won’t be needing you anymore.”
I gasped, outraged.
“What do you mean, fired? This is retaliation! You can’t just fire me because I won’t go on a date with some strange man who I don’t know from Tim, Dick or Bobby. He could be some rapist or a criminal warlord for all we know.”
But Mickey shook his head regretfully.
“Unfortunately sweetheart, it’s not a mistake. I got word from the higher-ups that you need to go on this date otherwise it’s a pink slip for you. Effective tonight.”
I literally couldn’t move, just gaping at him from my chair.
“No way,” were my slow words. “I’m a solid moneymaker on Tuesday nights. I always show up for my shifts and even have some regulars who come to see me week in and week out. You can’t fire me just because of this.”
Mickey’s expression was mournful.
“Sorry sweets, but that’s the deal. Management needs full-service girls, and if you don’t go tonight, then we’ll have to find someone else who will. Sorry,” he shrugged.
Yeah, right he was sorry. If anything, the dude was a monkey in a purple pin-striped suit who just took orders. But that was the problem. Mickey had no decision-making authority, so there was no point in pleading my case to him. The powers-that-be had already decided.
I took a deep breath, mind churning furiously. What would happen if I quit? Of course, I could always get a job at another outfit, but was I ready for that? Was I ready to go somewhere new, where lap dances were part and parcel of my responsibilities? Was I ready to let men grope my ass and touch my boobies, all because it was part of the job?
Plus, what about my schedule? I was used to dancing prime time on Tuesdays and Thursdays, and the Flamingo had promised me a set on Saturdays as soon as one of the older girls vacated. If I started somewhere new, I’d be at the bottom of the totem pole again, relegated to picking up shifts whenever and wherever I could. The money would be worse until I managed to claw my way up the ranks.
So it was pretty clear what the choice was, and in essence, there was no choice. I needed the money. It’s impossible to survive in the city on a librarian’s salary, and without the Flamingo, the options went from bad to worse. So I took a deep breath.
“How much will I be getting paid?” came the terse question. It was rude, but valid. What were we talking for a private date with some random unknown dude?
Mickey opened his mouth to speak, but Harry the bulldog cut in then.
“Five thousand,” were his calm words. “For two hours.”
Both Mickey and I turned to gape at him.
“I’m sorry?” was my gasp. “What did you say?”
This was a huge amount of money, even for an experienced dancer. Mickey was even more mercenary.
“Is this on top of the two thousand that you’re paying the Flamingo?” he asked in a whiny voice. “Or is our fee included in that?”
What? The Flamingo was gonna make two thousand off of me just from this? My mouth dropped open and I turned accusing eyes to Mickey, but he didn’t even notice.
“So what is it?” the small man pressed. “Two thousand total or four thousand total?”
Fortunately, the man wasn’t perturbed, responding in a polite tone.
“The two thousand for Ms. Evanescence is in addition to the two thousand we’ll be forwarding the Flamingo. In fact, I have it all here,” he said, pulling out two bulging envelopes. “If you’re ready, ma’am, I’m happy to escort you to the location.”
Mickey’s eyes almost popped out of their sockets.
“Oh sure, I’m sure this is all fine,” he said, waving his arm airily. “Isn’t this fine Pearl? Come on, it’s almost seven. Your date is about to start!” he exclaimed, greed in those beady eyes.
And slowly, I took a deep breath before looking at Harry.
“I want you to know I’m a law-abiding citizen,” were my slow words. “Whatever your boss thinks is gonna happen, probably isn’t going to happen. And there are no refunds, no matter what.”
Harry nodded respectfully.
“Of course, ma’am,” he said. “We absolutely recognize that, and value your input. We understand that, and I can assure you that my boss has much more at stake than you.”
I squinted at him. What did those words mean? But with a slow nod of my head, I agreed.
“Okay,” was my curt reply. “I’ll do it then.”
And damn if Mickey didn’t bounce out of his chair and do a little jig then.
“Perfect!” he squealed, grabbing one of the envelopes. “You’ll have a great time Pearl. See you when you’re back!”
And slowly, I followed Harry out of the office with the two thousand dollars burning a hole in my purse. Because nothing good could come out of this, right? I was literally going to parts unknown with a strange man who wasn’t even the man I was supposed to meet. Instead, I was going for a rendezvous with his boss, who could be a gang member, a movie star, or more likely, just some married guy who didn’t want his wife to know. That made me sad, the energy draining from my limbs. But again, there was no choice. If I wanted to survive, I had to go on this date or be fired. So with a heavy heart, I got into the black SUV waiting at the curb and sped off to destination unknown.
CHAPTER SIX
Susie
Surprisingly, the drive took about two minutes. We literally went around the corner before pulling up in front of a no-name Midtown apartment block.
“This is it?” I asked skeptically, eyeing the gray building. It was completely non-descript. Not fancy, not shabby, just … not anything. You could walk past it on any given day and never notice what you’d just gone by.
Harry nodded.
“Yes ma’am,” he said respectfully. “Just go straight to the concierge and they’ll direct you.”
I opened the door, cinching my coat tighter while looking around. It was the same Manhattan scene that populated most of the town. Gray sidewalks, gray buildings, and even people who looked slightly gray with their sallow skin tone and inoffensive business suits.
But there was something different about the building. As I went through the revolving door, inside was a rectangle metal detector, the kind
that buzzes if you’re carrying anything suspicious on your body.
“Really?” I asked the security guard, puzzled. “Don’t they usually reserve these for airports?”
The elderly man laughed.
“In fact, we got this-a-one from JFK,” he chortled. “They’re putting in those new-fangled body scanners at the airport, so their cast-offs came to us.”
But still, why? This was a residential building, and not a high profile target like the Federal Reserve or Department of Justice. Nor were we in a heavily trafficked area like Times Square or Madison Park. So why did this faceless skyscraper deserve its own metal detector?
But sometimes, it’s easier just to give in. And within seconds, I was through. Not surprising, given that I only had lingerie underneath my coat. Nor did my bra have an underwire, which would have triggered the alarm.
“You’re good to go!” the elderly security guard said cheerily. “Right up thataways,” he said, gesturing to the front desk. I sidled up to the woman behind a huge slab of marble.
“Um, I’m Pearl,” I managed on a murmur. “Or Susie?”
She didn’t even blink.
His Baby: A Babycrazy Romance Page 12
