by Lexie Ray
Even if “anything” was my boyfriend being held for ransom by a notoriously violent Honduran gang.
“I’ll put you on setup and cleaning crew,” Parker said. “You’ll earn overtime for whatever you work beyond forty hours.”
I winced. In the past, Parker had been against overtime, especially when it harmed her coffers.
“It’s fine,” she said, patting me briefly on the arm as she read my facial expression. “Honestly, Faith was the one who was always straining the limits of overtime. Now that she’s not working here anymore, we have some wiggle room.”
I had the rare opportunity to see regret flit across Parker’s face. My boss was fair and treated all of us dancers equally, but she’d always had a special place in her heart for Faith. Faith had been one of her top earners, after all — a reason for customers to want to visit the club. I missed Faith, too, but because she was my friend who I got to see every single day. Going to the barbecue had been wonderful, but it just reminded me that it wouldn’t be as simple anymore to spend time with her.
“The thing is, Sol,” Parker said, interrupting my thoughts, “I don’t want you getting burned out.”
“Oh, I won’t!” I exclaimed, but she wagged her finger, making me fall silent.
“It’s easy to say that you won’t get burned out,” she said. “But if you’re really going to be working twelve hours or more a day, you’re going to get tired. I’m all for you earning the money for your savings, but not at the cost of the quality of your performance.”
“You really don’t have to worry,” I assured her. “I get plenty of sleep. I don’t really do anything outside of work. I’ll come here every day ready to do the best job I possibly can.”
Parker stared at me with an emotion I had trouble naming until I was finally surprised to put a name to it: pity.
“What do you mean that you don’t do anything outside of work?” she asked. “That’s not good, Sol. That wears on a person.”
I laughed, awkward and uncomfortable. “I just want to really dedicate myself to the job. I don’t want any distractions.”
That didn’t satisfy her. “But people need some kind of outlet outside of their professional lives. Or else why even bother earning the money? What would it be for if not to enjoy with the people you love?”
I swallowed. I didn’t want to talk about Antonio right now. It would make me cry, undoubtedly, and then Parker would be concerned about giving me all the extra hours. I needed that money. I needed it desperately.
“You know, maybe I was trying to sound a little too eager,” I said. “It completely slipped my mind that I was at a barbecue with Faith and all of her friends just the other day.”
“Oh, really?” Parker came as close to a genuine smile as I’d ever seen her do. “How’s everyone?”
Trust Faith to get me out of yet another jam. I jabbered on about how cute Faith and Adam were together, how tall Luke was getting, and how close Faith was with her neighbor and roommate. Could I use that social group to my advantage, too? I needed to prove to Parker that I wasn’t a machine, and that I was wanting to earn this extra money for reasons that would make sense to her, that wouldn’t make me sound completely insane. If Parker thought the things going on in my life might bring her trouble, she might not want me to work here at all. It would be so difficult to get another job — this one had been hard enough to find as it was.
“So, of course I do stuff other than work,” I said. “I get to spend time with Faith and her friends are my friends, too. I just — I hope you don’t mind me saying — I don’t want to work here for the rest of my life. I’m trying to save money, so I can have something to fall back on if — in the very far away future — I decided to do something different.”
Parker laughed, a throaty, friendly sound, as she threw her head back.
“Sol, no one does this job forever — not even me. It’s impossible. This is just one step forward on the way to different things. I understand perfectly. I just don’t want you to exhaust yourself, that’s all.”
Relieved that my bluff had worked, I followed Parker around the club as she told me about what would be required of me. Other members of the setup crew flitted in as Parker spoke. It wouldn’t be strenuous work, but it would force me to keep both earlier and later hours. Even that was something of a blessing. I really hoped that I could just get back to my apartment after my shift and go straight to bed without worrying what was happening to Antonio or wondering whether I’d even ever see him again.
I helped the other members of the crew take down the chairs, buff the tables, and get everything else ready as Parker went to check the sound system and DJ equipment. She preferred to do all the announcing herself from the booth during the shift, but if it got really busy, she’d call for backup so she could circulate around the floor, anticipating the needs of everyone — from the guys who just come in off the streets on a whim to a very rich VIP clientele she’d developed herself. She had a very careful system, and it really paid off. This was one of the most popular clubs in all of Miami.
When it got close to eleven, I departed from the setup crew to get ready. Dancers were already packing the dressing room, wriggling into costumes and pursing their lips in front of the mirror to apply just the right amount of lipstick to their pouts.
“You running late, honey?” one of them called to me, seeing my hurried dash to rinse off in the shower.
“No, I was just helping the setup crew,” I called back over my shoulder, rushing to fling off my sweaty clothes so I could get cooled down and fresh before customers started arriving.
“Setup crew?” the dancer repeated, clearly confused. “Why doesn’t she just escort more if she needs money?”
I turned the shower spray on, and the patter of water against tile drowned out her words mercifully. I’d never escorted. It felt too close to being unfaithful to Antonio, and I’d never do that — not for any amount of money. I paused, considering that point that had always been so clear in my head. I remembered Faith’s first night of escorting, how she’d earned thousands of dollars — enough to secure tuition to the school she wanted to send her brother.
If I could be guaranteed the money to pay Antonio’s ransom, would I escort? Would I be unfaithful to him to save him? Just what was our love worth to me? Would I give up all of my principles to be reunited with my love again?
Would he even want to be with me if he ever discovered the lengths I went through to make it possible?
I shuddered, and it wasn’t because the water spurting from the showerhead was freezing. Maybe it was time I revisited my standards. Life was getting harder. I needed to use every weapon in my arsenal to reverse my fortune.
By the time I’d snapped myself into my costume, shook my braids out, and secured my springy dark curls with hairspray, I’d decided that I’d take a customer up on his offer for me to escort him, if the opportunity arose. It had before, and I’d always politely declined, so there was no reason to assume that the same thing wouldn’t happen.
I’d applied a cherry lipstick and was smearing some gold, shimmery eye shadow on my lids and cheeks to match the gold sequins on my dress when I heard Parker announce my name.
“Sol, on deck, Sol on deck, everyone give it up for Sugar.”
I was going to have to learn to get ready faster if I really wanted to stay on the setup crew for the extra money. I dabbed my forehead lightly with a powder puff, aware that I was starting to sweat again just from the stress of rushing, and strode out of the dressing room.
The lunch crowd of customers at the club was always a lot different from the dinner and after-hours crowds, but that didn’t mean I gave any less of an effort. For the most part, these were hard-working individuals looking to blow off some steam in the middle of their workday, or graveyard shift employees looking for a last laugh before going home and to bed. No matter what time of the day it was, I always tried to give my best onstage and when working the customers. I never knew when I’d get a good break �
� and a lot of money.
As I walked up the stairs to the stage, towering in my stilettos, I gave a confident grin right into the spotlight trained on me, pausing at the end of the catwalk to allow some time for my music to start up. The bouncers finished gathering up the dollars Sugar had earned, gave a nod toward the DJ booth, and then Parker made my final announcement.
“Everyone, please give a warm welcome to Sol,” she purred over the sound system, her low voice reverberating throughout the club. “She’ll brighten your day right up.”
Scattered applause throughout the tables was instantly drowned out at the loud, infectious beat of my song. Most of the girls liked to dance to the latest rap and pop songs, but that music didn’t really speak to me. I preferred Latin beats, salsa and merengue, brought up to club standards with searing remixes and big bass.
As I shimmied my way down the stage, dancing in perfect and complicated time to the rhythm of my song, I couldn’t help but think back on my earliest performances on this very same dance floor. I hadn’t had enough money to afford some of the more elaborate costumes of my fellow dancers, so I’d gone to a thrift store and purchased some lingerie I thought looked nice. I also didn’t have a handle on the tall platform shoes all of them wore, so I thought a nice pair of heels would suffice. I used the pole as a dancing partner rather than a means to expand my routine, and I’d danced to straight-up salsa, no extras thrown in.
I’d done my best, but my reception was lukewarm, at best. Only a few customers had clapped once my routine was done, and even less left me dollars during my performance.
It was Faith who’d taken me under her wing, demonstrated how to get a bigger bang out of my performances, and loaned me shoes and costumes from her own collection until I could afford to begin my own.
Without Faith, I wouldn’t have been able to last here at the club. Parker probably would’ve tolerated my presence for as long as my pride held out, but I would’ve eventually slunk off into the darkness, ashamed that I’d failed at dancing for a living. I’d always been a good dancer, back home, loving to spin around the floor of my home in bare feet, Antonio barely able to keep up.
Now, though, things were much different. Half the customers had gotten to their feet, stomping and clapping to the beat of my song. They whooped as I took the last few feet of stage to the pole at a dead run, grabbing the metal tightly with my hands and using my momentum to swing around it, my legs splayed, until I sank to the ground in a full split. Faith had worked with me so diligently to get me this flexible, enduring my questions and all the extra time it took for me to get this good. She hadn’t been forced to, and she’d had issues of her own she needed to deal with, but she always took a few minutes to show me the ropes.
Knowing these ropes ensured my survival here.
I leapt up, still keeping perfect time to the beat of my song, and sashayed around the pole, backing up, bending forward, always keeping the customers guessing about what I would do next, where I would go, and who I might shower my attention on. Many of the dancers ignored the customers who approached the stage to get a closer look at the action, preferring that they get a gander and leave the dollar on the floor. The bouncers enforced a time limit on being able to stand by the stage, which could be extended by another dollar placed on the floor.
I liked to give everyone a little personalized attention, though. I found being nice and attentive earned more tips than being aloof and unattainable.
When the first man came dancing up to the stage, I dropped to my knees and pretended to be his dancing partner, swaying my torso and gyrating my shoulders in time with his own moves. This delighted him, and he dropped even more dollars on the stage than I think he planned on dropping. When he reached out to try to touch me, though, I scooted away quickly, pouting and waggling my finger at him. Touching was a no-no. I could touch, but they couldn’t. A bouncer immediately intervened, but he didn’t have to. The customer had gotten my message loud and clear, and dropped a few more dollars on the stage in apology, shrugging and heading back to his seat.
I gave each customer who took the time and effort to visit me around the stage his own personal dance, showering affectionate kisses blown in his direction. Someone on the outside looking in might believe that I really enjoyed this line of work — being flirtatious and outgoing. In reality, it was just something that needed to be done, something I did for the money and no other reason. I didn’t like being friendly to the men ogling my body — and Antonio had never liked it, either. But necessity meant that I needed this job, and I needed to do well at it to make everything worth it.
My eyes darted around the edge of the stage. One guy I’d already lavished special attention on was back for more, so I returned. He was good looking — not that it mattered to me — with mahogany skin and a head shaved smooth. He was well dressed for it being the lunch crowd in a button-down shirt, patterned tie, and dark slacks. My observations were more than just idle. If a man was dressed well, maybe he had the money to make my shift even more lucrative. If I could please him, be the type of girl he was looking for to entertain him, I could make some serious profits.
Then again, I’d been surprised by men with stained and torn T-shirts and oil on their hands. That’s why I tried to be generous to everyone. I could never know when my actions would spark someone else’s sense of generosity.
“Like what you see?” I shouted over the music, twirling in front of the guy’s face, aware that the sparkly fringes of my costume were dangerously close to slapping him. I shimmied while lunging forward, again coming within a few centimeters of making contact with him before arching my back, away. For his part, he was perfectly behaved, making sure to keep his palms firmly on the edge of the stage even as his fingers twitched, making time with the song. He grinned wide at me, his white teeth flashing in the play of colored lights and darkness in the club.
The song ended with a flourish, and I winked at him over my shoulder as I made my way back to the stairs.
“That was Sol, everyone, Sol!” Parker purred. “Show her just how much she got your heart racing. Don’t be shy, now.”
I left the bouncers to rake up whatever cash had been dropped on stage for me and I headed to the dressing room, revisiting the men who’d patronized me up on stage. This was something Faith had taught me to do, to take special note of the men who were interested in my performance, so I could try to make some more money off of them later. That last gentleman, the one dressed so nicely, was going to be my first stop.
But right before I reached the dressing room, the very man in question caught up to me, waving at me and getting my attention.
“Well, hello,” I said, smiling even though I was surprised. I usually went to the dressing room after dancing to get cleaned up, do a costume change, and count my money.
“I don’t mean to accost you,” the man said. “It’s just … I don’t know how to explain it. You’re gorgeous and you probably get this all the time, but I sort of felt a connection with you when you were dancing. You’re magnetic, and so charming.”
“Thank you,” I said, smiling back at him. I often got compliments from customers, but they usually consisted of observations along the lines of “nice tits” or “hot ass.”
“I don’t really do this,” he continued, rubbing his smooth head briefly. “But would you like to have a drink with me, maybe?”
I found it hard to believe that this man didn’t frequent clubs like this one. He looked like he could certainly afford it.
“Of course I’ll have a drink with you,” I said warmly. Any of the dancers who got the customers to buy them drinks got a cut of the profits. It could get pretty lucrative. “Have a seat while I powder my nose. I’ll find you.”
The man looked surprised and pleased. “Excellent. I can’t wait. What can I order you?”
“A ginger ale would be perfect.” I batted my eyes at him and went to the dressing room just as the bouncer handed me a thick wad of bills. This day was going really well.
I’d done amazing for the fact that it was so early in the day. It was funny to imagine that all of the businessmen that frequented the club did so on their lunch breaks. Did any of their coworkers know what was going on?
“Why’d you order a ginger ale?” another dancer asked as she walked in to the dressing room, apparently having overheard my exchange with the customer. “Don’t you want to get your drink on — and make even more money?”
“It’s too early for me to start drinking,” I laughed. “I’m working all day, and I don’t want to fall when I go back on stage.”
“If you play your cards right, maybe you won’t have to go back on that stage at all,” the dancer said, unzipping herself out of her costume and stepping out of it. Her breasts suddenly swinging free did nothing to faze me. I’d been shy, at first, but that was a luxury I had to leave behind me almost immediately. Girls walked around back here in almost nothing all the time.
“What do you mean?” I asked, finger brushing my hair and spritzing some hairspray in it to help hold the curls.
“I mean this guy looks nice,” she said, toweling herself off and applying some deodorant. “Maybe you can keep him company all day and get an escorting gig for tonight. Much easier than shaking your ass around the pole, getting sweaty and sore.”
“I don’t mind shaking it around the pole,” I said. “You really think this guy would go for an escort?”
“Honey, he’s smitten,” the dancer said. “Go for it.”
Smitten? That observation usually would’ve worried me. I fully realized that most of my job was all about leading men on, making them believe in the fantasy that I just might want to go home with them. But I always held back — particularly from the escort end of the business — because it made me uncomfortable extending the fantasy out of the club.
But now, when I needed money the most to help Antonio, I realized that I would do anything to get it — including taking whatever fantasy this customer had in mind as far as he wanted it to go.
I slipped into a short black dress and reapplied my lipstick before locking eyes with my reflection in the mirror. I could do this. I had to do this. Antonio’s life depended on me getting that money.
