The Boss of Her

by Julie Cannon

  Jess kept her eyes on me as she started to dance, her movements fluid and confident. Hoots and hollers from the other women drew her attention and she released my hand to turn to face them. I immediately felt the loss of connection, like electricity being switched off.

  In my jacked-up stupor, it took me several minutes to realize what was happening, what exactly was happening. Jess was the party. She was a stripper. A dozen conflicting thoughts raced through my head. I wanted to run, but I wanted even more to stay. I didn’t want to look, yet I couldn’t help but stare unabashedly like everyone else in the room. My right brain screamed don’t look, my left turned on its video recorder.

  As the music pounded, Jess moved around the room. She stopped in front of each of Ann’s guests, giving them their own personal lap dance. Her body moved more seductively with each dance as if the woman before was a warm-up for the woman after.

  She pulled her shirt out of her pants, a glimpse of tan flesh flashing the woman in front of her. She unbuttoned the bottom button, then the next before giving her undivided attention to Ann. She moved in close and undid the next button, inches from Ann’s face. Ann reached around and stuffed a bill into Jess’s back pocket, the move putting her face even closer to Jess’s not-quite-bare midsection. Jess stepped away from a protesting Ann and into the center of the room, turning and spinning.

  Clarice pulled off Jess’s boot and Jess rubbed her socked foot into Clarice’s crotch. A collective moan could probably be heard down the block. I, however, clenched my jaw together so tight I should have broken several teeth.

  Jess teasingly opened another button on her shirt, showing just enough flesh to encourage the women to ask for more. And they did, stuffing dollar bills into Jess’s pockets, their hands lingering over the denim. No wonder Ann didn’t tell me this part of the party. She knew there was no way in hell I would come.

  Jess was a master at teasing without being a tease. When one of the women reached for more than a place to put her cash, Jess smoothly sidestepped the move. When she came back, the woman kept her hands to herself.

  As Jess made her way around the circle, I realized she was going to include me in her performance. My hands started to sweat. She looked at me, her eyes riveting. I couldn’t tear mine away. Hers sparkled with mischief and pleasure and something else I couldn’t quite describe. Her gaze held mine.

  The closer she came, the narrower my field of focus became; the awareness of my surroundings disappeared until there was nothing but ocean blue eyes in front of me. There is something just plain sexy about direct eye contact. But Jess doing it made me uncomfortable. Maybe it was because of my initial reaction to her, but there was no way I was going to break eye contact first. Not after I stupidly proclaimed that I wasn’t shy. She stepped closer. The look in her eyes told me she knew exactly what I was thinking, daring me to keep it up.

  I didn’t have any money, but that didn’t deter Jess from unbuttoning the last button between fabric and flesh. My fingers burned to pull apart the edges of her shirt, but she stepped back before I had a chance. I felt ridiculous that I didn’t have any cash to reward her for her hard work. I debated telling Jess as much when Ann ran over and pressed something into my hand.

  “My apologies, Jess. I didn’t tell Riley that you’d be here, and she never carries cash.” Ann stepped away, but not before whispering loud enough for Jess to hear, “Have some fun, Riley. You need it.”

  Not caring what Jess thought, I looked down and saw more than a few five dollar bills in my hand. Five dollars? What happened to ones? I guess inflation has hit everywhere.

  “Do I make you uncomfortable?” Jess asked, her breath smelling like cinnamon.

  “No,” I answered too quickly. That happens when I lie.

  “Why didn’t Ann tell you I’d be here?”

  “Now that she’s fifty, she forgets things,” I managed to say.

  She laughed and I almost slid off my stool. She was stunning when she smiled.

  “Stop hogging the entertainment,” someone yelled. “You might not want to see more, but the rest of us do.” Clapping and a few whistles followed the statement.

  “Is that true?” Jess asked, her body moving seductively in front of me.

  I felt heat rise from my crotch to my face. I hoped it didn’t show. “No.” My voice held more conviction than I felt.

  Jess pulled her shirt off her shoulders, giving me a glimpse of perfect breasts before turning her back to me. Holy perfect tits! If what I saw in a glance was any indication, I’d probably have a heart attack. Instead, as every other pair of eyes in the room was ogling her front, I openly admired her smooth muscular back and the way her ass filled out the back pockets of her jeans.

  By the time I caught my breath, Jess had moved back to Ann. Who was I kidding? I wouldn’t be able to breathe normally until Jess was out the front door—maybe. More than likely I’d see those captivating eyes in my dreams tonight. I knew for sure they’d be present when I relieved the tension building between my legs. After a few deep breaths, my head began to clear and I realized I was gripping the bills in my hand like a lifeline. I tossed them on the counter and rubbed my palm on my pants.

  I never took my eyes off Jess. I couldn’t. Not when she seductively ran her hand down her chest to dip into the waistband of her jeans. Not when she slowly slid her belt through each loop. Not when she popped the top button on her jeans. No one existed except Jess as she teasingly stripped off each layer of her clothes all the way down to a pair of tight black boy shorts.

  Jess didn’t ignore me, but she never got close enough for me to even think about sliding one of the crisp five dollar bills in her undies. Every time she looked at me, my pulse raced and blood pounded in my ears. It took all my concentration and willpower not to react; Jess was that good.

  Finally, the music faded and the raucous women settled down. Jess went to each one and placed a light kiss on their cheek, saving me for last. Lucky for me no one was paying any attention when she stopped in front of me as close as she had the first time.

  My gaze dropped to her lips in anticipation of what they would feel like against my skin. My head lifted ever so slightly, I closed my eyes and I didn’t breathe. The world stopped when she kissed me. She smelled like lilac and sweat, and I knew I’d forever associate that scent with her. In an instant, it was over.

  “You’re right, Riley. You’re not shy.”

  My eyes flew open. Her eyes were dark and knowing. A small frown creased her forehead as if she were trying to see deep into my psyche. I blinked to break the connection. No way was she going there. A second later, she stepped away and took her clothes from Ann.

  Chapter Two

  “Where did you find her?”

  “How much did she cost?”

  “Does she do more than dance?”

  “I need to have her at my birthday party.”

  “Party hell, I need her tonight. She was hot.”

  A variety of other questions and suggestive comments filled the room after the front door closed behind Jess.

  I felt the same way I had the three times I came out of anesthesia. It was an out-of-body experience, as if I was looking down at the scene in the room. I wasn’t quite all there and I shook my head to clear it. What had just happened? I had never experienced anything like that, and the way it shook me up, I hoped I never did again.

  “Riley, you okay?”

  Ann was beside me holding out a glass of ice water.

  “Yeah, fine,” I said, again too fast. “Where did you find her? By everyone’s reaction, something tells me Jess will be getting more than a few phone calls.” How I managed to make coherent conversation, I’ll never know, but I was relieved I could. The last thing I needed was for Ann to see how much Jess had affected me.

  “She was at a party I went to a few months ago, don’t you remember? I told you about it. Helene got her for Joanne’s birthday. You were at that conference in DC, I think.”

  I nodded, remember
ing the conversation. Ann had given me the strip by strip details and I’d commented that I was glad I missed it. Too bad I couldn’t say that about tonight.

  “Ann, do you have Jess’s number?” Clarice asked, breaking into our conversation. Her face was flushed, her hair disheveled. I hoped I didn’t look like that.

  “It’s on the green Post-it note on my desk. But don’t take it,” she added quickly. “Just copy it down.”

  The entertainment over, the party wound down quickly. One by one the women left, each wishing Ann a happy birthday and a promise to get together soon. We cleaned up the remnants of plates and plastic cups, took out the trash, and started the dishwasher. Ann sat by me on the couch, her head on my shoulder. “I’m exhausted.”

  “You should be.” I kicked off my shoes and put my feet beside hers on the table in front of us. “You’re getting older and you had to play hostess for your guests. All of your guests.” I nudged her feet with mine.

  “God, she was hot.” Ann did not need to name names.

  “Yes, she was.”

  “I hope I didn’t embarrass you, too much.”

  I was glad to see she added the “too much” to her apology. She had embarrassed me and she knew it. “Nothing I won’t get over.”

  “That’s why I love you.”

  “But I am pissed that you told her I was shy. I’m not shy,” I said adamantly.

  “I know, I guess I just got caught up in it all. Who cares. You’ll never see her again.”

  “That’s not the point,” I said.

  “Then what is?”

  My logic deserted me and I answered the only way a college-educated, successful woman would. “There is no point.”

  We sat in silence for a few minutes until I felt myself starting to doze off. “I’ve gotta go. I have a race in the morning.”

  “Why do you torture yourself like that?” Ann asked for the hundredth time.

  “It’s not torture if you love it.”

  “You need to find something else to love. Or someone,” she added.

  “Don’t go there.” It was a topic that always led to an argument. Ann thought I needed a girlfriend or, better yet, a wife. The fact that she was still single was not applicable in her mind.

  “I’m too tired and too drunk to argue with you tonight. But don’t think this is the end of that discussion.” She lay down and curled onto her side, her feet in my lap. Ten minutes later, she was snoring, and not a ladylike snore either. Because she sounded like a broken foghorn, I refused to share a hotel room with her when we traveled together. Maybe that was why she was still single? I knew I didn’t need to worry about waking her as I slid out from under her size eights.

  On my way to the front door, I passed Ann’s office. I backtracked to the open doorway. I looked around as if someone would see me, which was ridiculous. The last guest left an hour ago, and Ann was passed out in the other room. The Post-it note was like a green light to step out of my life. Quickly, I pulled out my phone, took a picture, and was out the front door before I could change my mind.

  Chapter Three

  My hand was shaking so badly I could barely dial the number. I’d tried and failed at least eight times—either my courage ran away or my fingers hit the wrong numbers. When did dialing a phone become so difficult? When did they start making the space between the numbers so small? How did it get so late? Was it too early to call? I finally cut the excuses and dialed.

  My heart skipped at the first ring. My stomach jumped at the second. My mouth got very dry at the third. The anticipation was killing me. I stopped breathing when the call connected.

  “Hello, you’ve reached Jess. You know what to do.”

  A familiar beep followed her message and I listened to dead air and stared out my kitchen window. For weeks I’d rehearsed what I’d say, but at the moment I needed it the most, I forgot everything including my name. I quickly hung up, like I’d gotten caught doing something I wasn’t supposed to.

  If I called again, she’d see the caller ID and know I lost my nerve. How embarrassing was that? I’d bought a burner phone from the liquor store around the corner and could very easily buy another. There was no way I was going to call Jess from my own phone. I was stupid gaga about her, but not that stupid.

  Several days later, I dialed again. If she mentioned my previous call, I’d tell her I hadn’t wanted to leave a message. If I got her machine again, I’d simply read what I’d written on the blue paper in front of me. She answered on the second ring.

  “Hello, this is Jess.”

  Her voice was husky and sexy, as I remembered it. It was the way I heard it in my dreams.

  “Hello?”

  “Uh, yes. Sorry, hello.” So much for following my script. The words in front of me blurred.

  “Is there something you needed?” Jess asked.

  Boy, do I ever, I thought. “You, uh, danced at a party I was at a few weeks ago,” I said, almost stuttering. Could it get any worse than this?

  “Okay.” Jess said when I didn’t say any more.

  “I’d like to book you for another, uh, event.”

  “Tell me about it.”

  “What do you want to know?” God, what an idiot!

  “How many people will be there? What’s the occasion? Where? I don’t dance with men in the room and I only dance.” Her voice was strong, her stipulations firm.

  “No, no men,” I said quickly, this time due to nerves.

  “Okay,” she said obviously waiting to hear more.

  “Sorry, I’m a little nervous,” I said. Might as well, I thought. Make fun of yourself before someone else does.

  “If you’ve seen me dance before, you know there is nothing to be nervous about.”

  If it were only that simple. “It would just be one person and no special occasion.” I finally answered her questions.

  “Who is the person?”

  Ready, set, go. “Me.” The extended silence made me want to hang up and pretend this was all just a bad dream.

  “I only dance,” she said again, forcefully.

  “That’s all I want,” I choked out. This was nowhere in my prepared remarks.

  “Where specifically did you see me?”

  “At a birthday party for a friend of mine.” I heard a soft chuckle come over the scratchy line. Cheap phone.

  “I do a lot of birthdays. Can you be a bit more specific? A name or maybe an address.”

  I gave her Ann’s name and address and waited. The longer she didn’t acknowledge that she remembered the party, the closer I was to hanging up. I pictured her going through a bunch of faces like she was looking through a mug book of criminals.

  “Okay,” she finally said and I was flooded with relief. “Where and when?”

  She wasn’t available the first three days I mentioned. We finally settled on Tuesday of the following week. I gave her the name of the hotel.

  “I only dance. I don’t turn tricks. I don’t care how much you offer me. And I tell two people where I’m going and call them the minute I’m done.”

  “Sounds like a smart plan. And all I want is a dance, nothing more,” I said.

  My statement was met with another long silence. “Hello?” I said awkwardly.

  “I’m here.”

  More silence. I was ready to hang up when she said, “Okay. What’s your name?”

  I knew she’d ask, and for a second I thought about making one up, but then I realized she’d know the minute she saw me. So much for anonymity.

  “Riley.”

  I heard a quick intake of breath before I quickly mumbled goodbye and hung up.

  * * *

  “Why are you so jittery? You can’t sit still and you keep looking at your watch. Do you have some place to be? You invited me, remember?”

  Ann peppered me with her questions halfway through dinner. I’d invited her in an attempt to get my mind off where I was supposed to be in ninety minutes and who I was going to see. The twelve days between talking w
ith Jess and today had felt like twelve hundred days in hell. I couldn’t sleep, my attention span was little more than a nanosecond and I could barely keep any food down.

  “Sorry, no. I’ve just got a lot on my mind and I was hoping you’d be a pleasant distraction.”

  “Want to talk about it? Is it your job?”

  I shook my head.

  “Your parents being demanding again?”

  I wish. “No. Can I play the BFF card and say I don’t want to talk about it?” Ann gave me a hard look for a very long time. I tried not to squirm under her examination.

  “How long has it been since you’ve had sex?”

  So long I couldn’t remember. “I’ve been busy” was my standard, noncommittal, bullshit answer.

  “That long, huh?” Ann could always see right through me. I had to be careful.

  “That’s not it,” I said again, trying to add more levity in my voice. “Are you still seeing Joyce?” I named the latest in a long line of women Ann dated.

  “I’ll let you change the subject if you promise me you’re not in any trouble.” She waited for my answer.

  Like I was going to tell Ann I hired Jess as my private stripper. I was so in trouble. “I promise,” I said crossing my heart and putting up the Girl Scout oath fingers, “I’m not in trouble.” I was so very much in trouble.

  Chapter Four

  I parked a few blocks from the hotel and walked, hoping to burn off some of my nervous energy. I was more anxious than when I sat for the CPA exam and the first time I had sex. The funny thing was this time I didn’t have to do anything. Absolutely nothing. Nothing to remember, no impression to make, nothing. But I’d thought about practically nothing else for weeks.

  Since Ann’s party, I found myself looking for Jess everywhere. Anyone that looked remotely like her got more than a second glance. Every meeting with a new client was filled with apprehension that it might be her.