Women and their damn distractions.
MY BODY WAS exhausted from all the recent workouts with Vanessa, and I was hoping that tonight would be a little slow, but I had a feeling that rarely happened. The club was almost always to maximum capacity every shift I worked. I guess it was a good thing, but I wished that just this once I could check out early.
Maybe I would be able to catch a glimpse of Mr. Buchanan—I mean, Miller.
I’d seen him a few times in the two weeks since I started at Pure. He never said much to anyone besides Randy, but I didn’t think that it was because he was being rude or thought his employees were beneath him. I got the impression he was just a very quiet, private person. I saw him focused intently, almost brooding, a couple of times when I’d passed by his open office door.
Every time I laid eyes on him, I found him more and more attractive.
“Hey, doll. Bianca give you your section for the night yet?” Randy waved me over as soon as I walked out into the main area of the club.
“Yup, I have the back section.” Now that Bianca figured I wasn’t going anywhere, she decided to give me the worst section anytime we were scheduled together. I didn’t mind because it gave me a little bit of a break, but if I had the stage area like she did every night, I’d definitely make loads more money.
“Well, your section doesn’t look too busy right now so I need you to do me a favor.”
“Um…I guess.”
Randy drummed his fingertips on the countertop of the bar a few times before looking back at me and blowing out a deep breath.
“All right. Follow me then.” He crooked his finger and headed down the same hallway where Miller’s office was located. I passed Bianca as I went in that direction and she glared at me, which I simply just shrugged off. I was used to her death stares and I really didn’t care. “So, here’s the deal.” Randy stopped at an unopened door, his hand resting on the knob as he spoke in a hushed tone. “You’ll get seventy percent of the cut after you’re finished. I’ll be right outside so if anything too funny happens, just yell and I’ll be there. This guy’s a VIP and specifically requested you, so give him his money’s worth and maybe I can hook you up with a few more of these gigs.”
“Gigs? What are you talking about, Randy? You haven’t said anything about me getting up on the stage.”
“I’m not talking about the stage, doll. Now, get in there. You’ll be just fine.” He gave me a slight push just as he opened the door and snapped it shut with a bang. It took a few minutes for my vision to adjust to the darkly lit room, and I jumped when my eyes landed on a couch in the corner, realizing there was someone sitting on it.
“Um…hi?” It came out as more of a question because I was confused on what in the hell was going on. I didn’t recognize the man, but he was in a suit and had one leg crossed over the other, a drink propped up in his hand. Maybe he didn’t like being out with the other customers and I was supposed to keep the drinks coming? I didn’t really understand the whole reason for actually coming to a strip club then if you couldn’t even see the stage.
“Ah, so Randy talked to you, I see. Did he explain the arrangement I proposed?”
“Arrangement?” I repeated, cautiously taking a step forward when he waved his hand for me to come closer.
“He didn’t explain it then.” He frowned deeply before taking a long sip of his drink. “That guy sure is peculiar, isn’t he?”
I nodded my head in complete agreement. Peculiar indeed. I’d thought Randy was an okay guy when we first met, better than what I was expecting, but something seemed to be a little off. He appeared antsy about something, and then he went and shoved me in this room tonight without much of an explanation.
“Well, let’s get to why you’re here. I’ve been watching you.”
“O-kay.” I took a step backward and he chuckled. I had no idea what was funny about the situation and I was pretty sure I now had a stalker. I put my hand on the doorknob and twisted, but nothing happened. Panic set in as I realized Randy had locked me in the room. What the fuck was going on?
“Calm down,” he said in what I think was supposed to be a soothing voice, but it just made me want to break the door down. “You can leave at any time; it’s just locked so no one interrupts us. Let me explain why you’re here first, though. Then if you want to leave, feel free.”
I didn’t answer him, but instead pressed my back up against the door, willing for it to open.
“I just want a little alone time, that’s all. A private showing, dance a little, maybe more. Either way, it doesn’t matter. When we’re finished, you go your way, I go mine, and then you get paid. Sounds fair, right?”
My mind raced at the ‘maybe more’ part and I was about to throw up at what I thought this guy was suggesting. Basically, he was saying I could ‘maybe’ be a prostitute if things went further than a little dancing. Is that what these rooms were really set up for? Did Mr. Buchanan know things like that went on in the back of the club?
“Nope…not happening. I’m not that type of girl and I have no idea why you or Randy would think that. He didn’t say a word to me. That is illegal! Don’t you have a wife or a girlfriend? A guy like you can find a girl—a nice, respectful girl that I’m sure you wouldn’t have to pay!”
The guy’s eyebrows twisted together. “That’s not the point of this. It’s the thrill of it, darlin’. Can’t you feel that crackle in the air? The idea of getting caught if anything were to happen between us. We can even unlock the door, if you’re into that kind of thing.”
“No, no, no, no,” I repeated forcibly. “Thanks for the um…offer, but I would really like to go now.”
“Okay, that’s fine. But let me just tell you that you’re missing out. I have a feeling you could be a very dirty girl if you just let loose.”
You have got to be kidding me. People actually said things like that? I turned around and pounded my fists on the door, hearing it unclick quickly, and rushed past Randy as soon as it was open, knocking him back into the wall.
“You’re an asshole, Randy. Why would you think I would I do something like that? Do I seem like that type of girl? Money for sex? I. Am. Not. A. Whore!” I yelled the last part and he at least had the decency to look down at the floor.
“Whoa, whoa back up a step there, Monroe.” He held his hands up defensively. “He was looking to have a good time with a nice girl like you. He wasn’t paying for prostitution. We don’t do things like that here. I just know you were looking to make some money, I figured—”
“Well, you figured wrong,” I interrupted. “I can’t believe people actually come here for that kind of stuff and I can’t believe that you supply them with it. You know it’s illegal, right? I could get you in so much trouble—”
“Monroe,” he scoffed, “that’s not what that was at all. He just wanted a private dance, that’s it. Miller only allows a few select customers to go in the back, ones that he can trust because he doesn’t want people hearing about it and getting the wrong idea. I thought maybe you would be interested, but clearly you’re not. It’s not a big deal, all right?”
I nodded my head once, confused by what really happened in that room. Maybe I had misunderstood the guy. Maybe he did just want me to dance for him in private. Or maybe he added that part on about something more possibly happening and Randy knew nothing about it.
Randy must have taken my silence as agreement to be quiet or something, because he clapped his hands together and smiled smugly. “All right then, glad we got that all cleared up. Why don’t you take the rest of the night off, Monroe?”
And then he walked away.
I trudged out to my car, wary about what had gone down with Randy. I felt I’d been punished for doubting him, and was conflicted about the whole situation and what exactly happened. The thought of telling someone still hung in my mind, but who? And more importantly, was there anything to tell?
I always had a picture of strip clubs in my mind, thinking that things wen
t on behind closed doors, but Pure didn’t seem that way. From all I’d heard, Miller seemed like a smart businessman, so I assumed he tried to run a pretty respectable place. The dancers were basically prancing around in stuff that was similar to a bikini. I mean, that wasn’t too bad. Besides, if any funny business had been going on, I was certain Vanessa would have warned me. She knew how sketched out I was about even the possibility of dancing. Maybe the guy was just trying to get more bang for his buck. Literally.
That had to be it. And I couldn’t blame Randy for other people’s actions, especially when he was just trying to help me make some extra cash. He was the manager; he wouldn’t do anything illegal. At least I didn’t think he would.
I FLIPPED THE last light off in the office building and headed out the front door, relieved that the day was finally over. We had gotten one of our biggest deals to date at Buchanan Builders. We were officially signed on for the project to construct a very high-end hotel that was coming to the area. I had been working on the deal for months. I was worn out but at least it was the good kind of tired, where I felt beyond satisfied and could finally let go of some of the stress brought on by bidding for the job. I’m sure that feeling would only last until we started working on it, though. I was pretty confident that my guys were the best, so I just had to remember that.
I turned my phone back on just as I got into my truck, seeing that I had missed a bunch of calls, and one was from Randy. It was pretty late and he didn’t even leave a voicemail, so I decided to put it off until tomorrow. I just wanted to get home, put some food into my stomach and go to bed. I would deal with whatever problem Randy had tomorrow.
I drove through town, which was mostly shut down for the night, wishing that Mamaw’s Kitchen was open because I was really hungry for some good home cooking. Places around town didn’t stay open much later than nine though, even on the weekends.
Mamaw’s Kitchen was my newest business, which I opened up within the past year. The place was hopping because everyone in town knew that Maggie Buchanan was the best cook around for miles. I didn’t open the place to make a bunch of money. I did it for my mamaw. Her and Granddaddy were the best things to happen in my life and changed the course of it for the better. So, while I loved running the construction company and it had been my biggest dream, opening Mamaw’s Kitchen held a special place in my heart. The building used to be Donna’s Diner and it shut down a few years back after Miss Donna passed away and her kids decided that they didn’t want to keep it open. Mamaw about had a heart attack when I dragged her in there and told her the place was all hers. She didn’t believe me, not for one second. I actually pulled out the deed just to prove it to her.
I helped her out along the way, mostly from the business aspect of things, and she loved every second of it, knowing that people loved her recipes just as much as her family does. After a little while, I convinced her that she didn’t need to be at the restaurant every second that it was open, and she hired a few people that she could trust with her well-protected secret recipes.
I pulled into my driveway and grinned when I saw the whole place lit up like a Christmas tree. Mamaw hated when I came home to a dark, empty house, complaining that a young man still under thirty needed to have a little fun in his life and not just work it away. I think she hoped that I would start bringing some girls around, namely Tara.
Growing up, Tara was a couple years ahead of me in school and never batted an eye at me. I doubt she even knew my name. But then she started working at the local library where Mamaw used to volunteer. Tara’s mom wasn’t in the picture, a lot like my own situation, and Mamaw took her under her wing. Those two became inseparable. I had always looked at Tara as sort of an older sister, but over the years, she began to see me differently and started flirting, which is how we ended up dating.
“You’re still up, old woman?” I smirked when I saw Mamaw’s appalled expression. She was sitting on the sofa covered up with one of the many afghans she had made that were scattered all throughout the house. She was watching one of her soaps, probably from a recording that I had to show her how to do about a million times before she finally caught on.
“Don’t you ‘old woman’ me, boy. I could outlast you any day, if I wanted to.”
“Mmhmm, I’d like to see you try.” I collapsed onto the couch, kicking my feet up after I pushed off the dress shoes that had been pinching my feet all day. I hated those things, which is why I usually kept a pair of work boots at the office, but I forgot to grab them on my way out this morning since I wore them home the other night after a long day out at a job site.
“I bet you haven’t eaten a thing all day,” she said as she stood up, folding the afghan and laying it on the back of the couch. “Always working so hard and never taking a break. You’re going to make yourself sick doing that. Don’t you think you’ve accomplished enough? You’re only twenty-six years old for heaven’s sake. Do you know what most young men your age are out doing right now?”
“Do you?” I retorted and she bit back a grin, still wagging a finger at me.
“When exactly am I going to be getting some great grandbabies?”
“Mamaw.” I sighed loudly, flipping on ESPN and leaning my head back into the couch. “Please don’t go there. Why don’t you bug Luke about that? Though I doubt he’s ever going to bring a girl home.”
Luke was my younger cousin by a year and had also been raised by my grandparents, so we were basically brought up like brothers. We’d always had a great relationship, never really competing for much like other brothers that were so close in age did, and I never had to worry about him stealing away any of the girls because he wasn’t interested in them. At all.
I think I actually knew before Luke and after he figured it out, he tried to hide it for a while. Eventually Luke outed himself when he got caught in his room with Todd Newberry. They definitely weren’t working on homework like they were supposed to be, experimenting was more like it. Mamaw screamed and slammed the door, not knowing what in the hell to do. Granddaddy chased Todd out of the house with his shotgun.
Things were tense around here for a while, but eventually my grandparents came around because they were good people; it just took some time because it wasn’t something they had ever dealt with. Luke struggled with it and I tried to be there for him as much as I could, but as soon as he graduated he was out of here. I couldn’t blame him, small towns were hard for someone that seemed so different to others. Luke wasn’t that much different, though. He still liked to play football; he was still smarter than me and liked to prove it anyway he could, and I could still beat the shit out of him if I wanted to.
Same old Luke.
“Well, no, I don’t suppose that will happen. I sure do miss having that boy around all the time. You never know though, things with Tara might get serious real quick.” I groaned again and she swatted my head as she walked past me and into the kitchen.
“Now, I know you’re hungry. I fixed you a plate before I left the diner for the night and you’re going to eat every last bite.”
I smiled, hearing the microwave pop open and then she began shuffling through drawers, pulling out everything she needed because she knew right where everything was.
Mamaw has her own place—well actually, it was all her land, had been for years—but most of the time she ended up at my house while I was gone, which I didn’t mind. Probably because of all the memories of Granddaddy, she didn’t like to be there alone too often.
After Pure took off and I opened up Buchanan Builders, I started looking at land to build my own place. Mamaw was pissed that I didn’t come to her first, baffled that I didn’t just assume I could have some of her land to build on. So, that’s what I eventually did. I offered to build her a nice guest suite onto the back part of the house, but she insisted on staying in the old farmhouse Granddaddy had built for the family all those years ago.
“So, how was work today?” she asked, bringing a steaming plate over to me and setting the
tray on my lap. The woman thought I was still eight years old and needed to be taken care of. I guess tonight, I would let her because I could barely keep my eyes open.
“Good.” I picked up my fork and dove straight into my favorite of Mamaw’s, her macaroni and cheese. Best. Thing. Ever. I could never eat any of that shit out of the box. She ruined me for that kind of stuff.
“Such a man of many words,” she complained before throwing a napkin at me.
“That’s why you love me so much,” I answered, in between forkfuls.
“Uh-huh,” she murmured. “Well, I’m heading home. Don’t forget all the family will be here next week for Thanksgiving. I’ll start cleaning soon.”
I looked around, not seeing a speck of dust or anything misplaced, and rolled my eyes which she answered with a roll of her own. “Just hush, Miller. There’s cleaning to be done, you just can’t see it ‘cause you’re a man. Goodnight.”
I was kind of looking forward to the upcoming holiday. That meant some time off of work and being surrounded by my mostly crazy family. But that also meant the club wouldn’t be open and that equaled less opportunity to be around Monroe. It felt like there was something missing all day because I couldn’t make it over to the club, but I had stuff to get done at the office. Maybe tomorrow I’d get my fix in. God, I sounded like an addict or something and I barely knew her. Maybe I was, cause ever since the first time I laid eyes on her, I just couldn’t help myself.
What in the hell was Monroe Hartley doing to me?
EXCITED ABOUT HAVING a rare two nights off in a row, I was feeling drained and wanted nothing more than to spend them at home. I couldn’t use that as an excuse to skip out on the monthly shopping day that Amelia planned for us though. She wouldn’t let me even if I tried. I was never a big shopper. I used to be the kind of girl who went into a store, got what she wanted, bought it, and was done. That all changed when I met Amelia, basically because she wouldn’t let me. I tried to avoid it at first, but eventually I realized that shopping days with Amelia were really fun. Who knew I would ever be one of those girls?
Midnight Ballerina Page 5
