Midnight Ballerina

by Cori Williams

  I took a bite and closed my eyes, savoring the taste, letting the still warm and gooey concoction melt in my mouth. It was like pure heaven all rolled up into one little cookie. I was going to gain at least five pounds by the time I was done because I had to eat every last one. They were that good. “Amelia, you’re the best friend ever. Did you seriously make me cookies with Milk Duds in them?” I asked in between bites of my second one.

  “Yup. I guess that means you like them?” She grinned as I snatched the plate out of her hands as she tried to pull away from me. I glared at her and took another one, placing the plate on the bed next to me so I could keep guard. “I know you’ve been stressed lately and that those are like your crutch. So, they’re good?”

  “Better than good.” I licked some chocolate off my fingers. “Brilliant. Is this the only reason why you came over?”

  “Well, that and I miss my best friend. Your new job’s been keeping you busy. I might just have to come stalk you at work so I can see you.”

  “Yeah, that’s probably not a good idea.” I shook my head and got up, heading for my closet so I didn’t have to look her in the eyes. I wasn’t sure if I would ever tell Amelia where I worked, and I most definitely didn’t think she would like to come “hang out” there. “My boss is kind of an asshole, so I don’t think he would like visitors randomly showing up.” That was kind of true. According to everyone, but Vanessa, Mr. Buchanan barely looked at, let alone spoke to the employees. Sounded like an asshole to me.

  “Oh, whatever. If I was a paying customer what could he really say? What did you say the name of the place was?”

  “I didn’t.” I grabbed a tank top and turned toward my dresser to pull out a pair of yoga pants. Amelia was eyeballing me, waiting for me to tell her the name, but I wouldn’t. Amelia liked to think she was also a secret spy in her spare time. She didn’t need to know any information. “So, anyway. Don’t you have a date with that guy tonight? What’s his name again? The one from the frat.” I rolled my eyes and Amelia answered with a roll of hers.

  “Not all frat guys are bad, Monroe. Franklin is a nice guy.”

  “Franklin sounds so nice,” I replied sarcastically. “Who really calls themselves Franklin? I mean, I know his parents stuck him with the name, but he could go by Frankie, Franko, anything but Franklin. I haven’t even met the guy and I can tell he has a silver spoon stuck up his ass and probably the personality to match. Why do you keep going for those kinds of guys?”

  She shrugged her shoulders but we both knew why. Amelia lived to please her mom and bringing home someone named Franklin would make Mrs. Emerson the happiest woman in the world. Mrs. Emerson also didn’t like me, probably because she considered me ‘lower class’ and felt her daughter was better than I was. Luckily, Amelia didn’t listen to her mom when it came to that.

  “Actually, I think you should meet Franklin. What do you think about a double date? Franklin has this friend that I think—”

  “Don’t even go there,” I interrupted quickly, holding up one finger and wagging it. “Not happening. You know I don’t date. Don’t think you’re gonna sweet talk me into it, either.”

  “But Monroe.” She pouted her glossy bottom lip and I crossed my arms over my chest. It wasn’t the first time that Amelia tried to get me to go out on a double date, and I’m sure it wouldn’t be the last time. She was persistent, I would give her that. “Just because you had one bad date with some asshole, doesn’t mean all of the other guys are the same. We would have so much fun!” She clapped her hands together and I began pushing her toward my bedroom door. The event that she was referring to had been a disaster, and I didn’t think it could even be classified as a date in the first place. All throughout high school, I dated Carter, but we broke things off right before I left for college. So, when I got to school, all of the guys on campus were a little overwhelming.

  Needless to say, I ended up getting extremely drunk at my first party, basically because I was so in awe of the whole college party scene and having a newfound freedom, and I ended up in some guy’s bed.

  Way to lose your virginity, right?

  Yeah, Carter and I never really had much of a physical relationship, it was more out of convenience and we were best friends. He always seemed to be afraid to take things further than the heavy make-out sessions we occasionally participated in, and honestly, I probably was too. I think he didn’t like to see me with other guys, either, and I was okay with that. I never had to worry about a prom date and whenever we went out, we always had the best time.

  “It wouldn’t be fun, Amelia. It would probably be torture. Let me guess? The guy’s name is something silly like Kenneth.” I continued to shove her toward the front door but she stopped in my living room with her lips pursed, fidgeting on her feet.

  “What? No, of course not,” she sputtered.

  “What’s his name then?” I asked and she switched back to her other foot, placing one hand on her hip and mumbling something. “What was that? I didn’t quite hear you.”

  “Carleton. His name is Carleton.” I tried to contain a laugh, but I couldn’t help it, and after a few minutes of not being able to stop, so much that my stomach hurt and I was bent over at the waist, Amelia finally cracked a smile, too. “He’s Franklin’s best friend and they’re always together. He ends up being the third wheel, though, and sometimes it’s a little awkward.” She sighed loudly. “He’s really not that bad. I just thought it would be fun if all four of us went out and maybe if you two hit it off….”

  She trailed off as I started pushing her in the direction of the door again. “Can you at least think about it?”

  “Yeah, I’ll think about it,” I answered quickly, even though we both knew I wouldn’t.

  “You’re the worst best friend ever.”

  “Amelia.” I shook my head. “Don’t forget I’m letting you drag me shopping this weekend.”

  “Oh, that’s right.” A smile once again lit up her face. “Well, I might just make it an all day trip since you have to be such a brat.”

  “Bye, Amelia.”

  “YOU SURE ARE a quick learner.”

  I took a long swig out of my water bottle and wiped at the sweat forming on my forehead. Going from dancing almost every day for ten years, to on and off for the last two, and then all of a sudden just stopping a few months ago, my body was protesting the new type of physical activity. I felt so out of shape.

  “Did you say you used to dance?” Vanessa collapsed onto the floor next to me, pulling her long hair out of the bun she had thrown it into when we first started. Even with her hair a mess, she still looked like a supermodel, while I probably looked the complete opposite, all sweaty and gross.

  “Yeah, ballet and a little bit of hip hop. Apparently, Randy thought that would help me out some.”

  “Definitely.” She nodded her head. “You may be a quiet little thing, but you sure know how to move that body. The guys will be lining up. That is, if you get up on the stage. Are you sure you really want to do that?”

  “Truthfully?” I shook my head. “No, not really. I just took this job because it was the only thing I could find.”

  “Well, let me give you a little bit of advice. Don’t do it. Getting up there can be a little addictive. You seem like a smart girl with a good head on your shoulders. You can find something else, or try to waitress as long as you can. I started out to support my daughter, but now, I don’t know if I could do anything else. Does that sound bad?”

  I chewed on my bottom lip. “Maybe a little.”

  “I just don’t want my daughter to think that her mom is a whore or something. I don’t do the kind of stuff that some of the other girls do. You know the stereotypes of strippers. Everyone does. Some people think we’re just like prostitutes. The things that I’ve seen….” She shivered slightly and shook her head before popping up to her feet. “But…they run a very tight ship around here. Anyway, let’s go over a couple of more things. Pole dancing really is fun, so eve
n if you don’t get up on the stage, you could always show off your fancy new moves to some lucky guy.”

  “Right.” I laughed loudly as I stepped up and gripped the cool metal of the pole with both hands, flipping myself upside down and stretching my legs out into the move that Vanessa explained was dubbed ‘The Batman.’ I was pretty proud of myself at how easily some of the moves came to me. My background in dance did help. If only my first dance instructor Miss Kathy could see me now. I didn’t know if she would be proud or run away to hide in embarrassment. I doubt if I would ever actually do any of them again in my life, but they were fun to learn.

  A sound snapped my attention to the front of the stage, and I righted myself, pulling down my tank top. It took my eyes a minute to adjust from being upside down, and then I realized it was the owner. How I didn’t know it was Mr. Buchanan in the first place was beyond me. The whole atmosphere of the club seemed to change and my entire body started to tingle, hot and cold all at the same time.

  I had thought my body was getting a workout from practice, but now it was going into complete overdrive and any aches and pains were quickly forgotten, replaced by a humming sensation that coursed through my veins as I stared at him open-mouthed.

  I really needed to learn how to control myself when I was around him or I was sure to embarrass myself yet again.

  “I DON’T GIVE a flying fuck, I’m sick and tired of the excuses, just get the damn job done or you’ll be looking for a new one soon enough.” I ended the call without waiting to hear the jackass’s response, fed up to my eyeballs with having to deal with incompetent people, and entered the club.

  Movement on the stage froze me in place, but then I realized it was just Vanessa. She had permission to come in during the day if she needed to work on routines. She wasn’t by herself, though. I recognized the other girl on stage as the new waitress from the other night. The one who had spilled the drink in my lap and then decided that she would help me clean it up.

  One leg curled around the pole, the other pointing up, and her hand held the bar where her calf rested as her upper body hung upside down. The other hand gripped the pole below her head, stretching her torso, causing her tank top to hang dangerously close to her breasts, her hair spilling out in all directions. I couldn’t look away as she slowly slid down the pole, her eyes remaining glued to Vanessa whose movements she was trying to copy. She was doing a pretty good job of it, too, almost better, in fact. There was something about the way her body moved, so sensual and graceful; something familiar that I couldn’t quite put my finger on.

  Noticing me, they both dropped down, straightening their clothes, and I cleared my throat, shaking myself out of my haze. I needed to remember where I was. I didn’t let myself notice the strippers ever. This was my business and I didn’t mix that with pleasure. That was just a recipe for disaster.

  “Hey, ladies. Don’t mind me, just stopping in real quick.”

  Vanessa laughed before hopping off the stage and pushing her hair back. “I didn’t know you would be here, Mr. Buchanan. I’m just teaching Monroe here the ropes. Have you met your newest employee? She’s pretty talented.” The girl, whose name I now knew, stepped to the edge of the stage.

  Visions of the other night flashed through my head and I swear my dick twitched in my pants at the memory of her hands on me. If I was like some of the guys that owned strip clubs, I would’ve yanked her up, taken her in the back and let her finish the job. I wasn’t like that, no matter that my body wanted otherwise. “Yeah, I think we’ve met.”

  A deep crimson blush spread across her cheeks, and I figured our first encounter was vividly playing through her mind as well. At least she seemed to be embarrassed by it, some girls would’ve done that on purpose. Her, I wasn’t so sure about. I reached out my hand to pull her down and she stumbled a little, but I was there to catch her, pressing her petite body against mine for just a brief second. Every one of my senses heightened as I took in the softness of her skin, the faint smell of her perfume, and the way her breathing quickened before she straightened herself and stepped back.

  I needed to reel that shit in fast before it got out of control.

  “I’m Monroe, your new employee, I guess. I was under the impression that Randy owned the place, so I’m sorry about the other night. If I would’ve known—”

  “Then you wouldn’t have spilled that drink in my lap?” I couldn’t help but grin as her eyes widened, those ruby red lips opening and closing a few times before she finally replied.

  “Well, no. That’s not what I meant. I just wouldn’t have…I wouldn’t…I wasn’t thinking…you know what? Let’s just forget all about that and start fresh because it wasn’t exactly my best moment. I swear I’m not a klutz. Most of the time. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Buchanan.”

  I wasn’t trying to make her uncomfortable but the way she tended to go on and on was endearing. I had no idea why, most of the time I would find it annoying. I was the type of person who was quick to get to the point of things.

  “Very nice to meet you, Monroe. Welcome to Pure.”

  “Likewise, and thank you.” She shifted on her feet, stretching one leg to the side and I gave a quick nod of my head, trying to keep focused.

  She’s an employee, I’m her employer, and that’s all that was going on. Clearly, she was practicing for a reason.

  “Listen, you two get back to what you were doing. I have some paperwork to grab. Maybe I’ll catch y’all later. Vanessa, make sure you lock the place back up?”

  “Of course, Mr. Buchanan.”

  My eyes lingered on Monroe as she got back up onto the stage, bending over at the waist to continue her stretching, her round ass sticking up straight in the air. I was a guy, I just couldn’t help myself sometimes, especially when it came to her it seemed. My gaze followed her leg as she stuck it straight out, her bare foot pointed toward the ceiling until she effortlessly curved it behind her, back arched, nearly touching her head to her toes. She switched legs and repeated the process. I had completely zoned out on whatever Vanessa was doing, focused solely on Monroe and the way she was using her body. I’d never seen anything like it. Well, that wasn’t right, being in the club I’d seen plenty of dancing, but nothing like that. There was one other time though.

  Both feet firmly planted on the stage, Monroe swept the hair off her shoulders, piling it up on top of her head, revealing the creamy skin of her neck, and then it was like every piece of the puzzle finally clicked into place. Bingo.

  “Monroe?”

  “Huh?” She jumped in place, startled by my voice, before turning around to face me. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know you were still out here. Was there something you needed?” she asked, making her way to the end of the stage closest to me.

  “Yeah, I was just wondering….” I stopped, suddenly unsure. “Never mind. Sorry, I’ll leave y’all to it.”

  “Um…ok. Thanks, Mr. Buchanan.”

  “Call me Miller,” I replied, mentally kicking myself and wondering why in the hell I told her to call me by my first name. To everyone around the club, I was Mr. Buchanan. I think it made things a bit more professional. Sometimes I wondered if Randy even remembered my first name even though we had known each other for years.

  “Oh, thank you…Miller.”

  I really did leave then, walking down the narrow hallway to my office and forcing my eyes to stay forward instead of snapping my head back around so I could watch Monroe. I couldn’t believe it. What were the chances? I sat down at my desk, rapping my knuckles against the wooden surface several times before turning my computer on. What in the hell did I come into the office for again? I shook my head, trying to clear it, but every time I did, that girl kept popping into my thoughts.

  She was petite but curvy in all the right spots, with long dark hair that fell into loose curls at the ends. The night of her first shift, her lips were painted a bright red that matched the towering heels she wore. I could tell how nervous she was as she followed closely behind
Bianca, obvious concentration on her face as she tried to match the customer with the drink, which was always a good thing for a waitress. I’d seen her stumble when she first walked up, watched how wide her pretty green eyes grew as she soaked up her surroundings. It was almost as if I could read her mind, her face saying it all: “What in the hell am I doing here?” She seemed too innocent and sweet to be working in a place like Pure.

  I knew all too well that looks were most definitely deceiving.

  I opened a few files that were on my desk, shutting them almost immediately because I knew I couldn’t concentrate. So I decided to go grab a drink from the bar, and that decision had nothing to do with the fact that I wanted to see that girl again. Nothing.

  Neither one of them heard me when I came out and I was okay with that. Music blared from the speakers, and they were giggling about something right before Vanessa hopped onto the pole and twirled around it with ease. Vanessa was, hands down, Pure’s best dancer. The guys flocked to the stage whenever she came out and drooled the whole time she was on it. I could guarantee that she went home every night with her pockets and purse stuffed full of money.

  But Monroe was completely different when she grabbed onto the pole next to Vanessa. There was something so graceful and beautiful about the way she glided around it. Mesmerizing. I could only assume that either she was a first-timer or didn’t have much experience if she needed lessons from Vanessa. But she was more ready for the stage than half the girls that worked for me. For some reason, the idea of her dancing in front of a packed room filled with customers throwing bills at her, didn’t sit right with me. I had to remember that this was my business though, and that was her job.

  I managed to tear my eyes away from them and went back into my office, just in time to hear my phone chiming from my desk. I groaned when I saw it was Tara, then grabbed it and turned the ringer off. There was no way I could talk to Tara at that moment. I needed to get out of there so I could think clearly. My office was still a mess, paperwork everywhere, even though I’d been there for an hour. I hadn’t gotten a thing done since I walked through the front doors, but I would save it for another time—preferably when Monroe wasn’t there.