by John Locke
Eleven girls leave the stage while one remains behind to dance. Every four minutes a new girl comes on stage, in her stripper outfit, and does a dance that ends with a few seconds of complete frontal nudity.
But the highlight of the night comes at the end of the show when Gwen takes the stage in a skimpy outfit to ask the crowd what they thought.
They loved it.
She tells them it’s only going to get better from here on out, and says she’d like to introduce the newest member of Carmine’s team, his new accountant, Willow.
Willow comes on stage nervously. The crowd can tell she’s extremely shy. She’s wearing glasses, a business suit, and has her hair pinched back in a tight bun.
The crowd offers her polite applause.
Then Gwen coaxes Willow to the center of the stage.
When she’s there, Gwen says, “A little help please?”
Two of the dancers come out and grab Willow’s wrists.
She yells, “What are you doing?” and tries to get away, but the other girls are too strong.
Gwen says, “I don’t care how good you are with numbers. You don’t come on my stage without getting naked!”
“No!” Willow shrieks, but the crowd turns on her like sharks on chum.
As Willow cries out, Gwen’s girls come out one at a time and rip a piece of Willow’s clothing off. The more they tear, the wilder the crowd gets.
Until Willow is down to her bra and panties.
The crowd is going insane. Shouting at the dancers to strip Willow.
Finally, one of the girls unhooks her bra from behind.
Willow shouts, “No!”
The crowd is on their feet, cheering the view of Willow’s breasts.
Willow looks terrified.
Gwen looks mischievous.
Do it! Do it! Do it! The audience chants.
Gwen steps up to the mike and says, “Well, after all, she’s an accountant, not a stripper.”
She looks at Willow and says, “Unless you always secretly wanted to be a stripper!”
“No!” Willow says.
Gwen says, “They really love you, Willow, don’t you boys?”
The audience cheers. They love her.
Gwen quiets them down and says, “Release her.”
The two dancers release her and Willow puts one hand over her breasts, the other over her crotch.
“It’s up to you, Willow,” Gwen says. “This is your moment. Your once-in-a-lifetime. You could wiggle out of your panties for just a few seconds, and have the memory of getting the greatest ovation the club has ever heard. Am I right folks?”
She is.
The crowd’s in a frenzy.
Willow appears torn. But it’s clear she likes the applause. She slowly removes her hands, and tentatively shakes her tits.
An action that brings the house down.
When she steps out of her panties the audience loses it.
And Carmine’s new accountant, Willow, receives the greatest ovation the club has ever given.
Afterward, backstage, Gwen says, “Nice call on the accountant strip thing.”
“Thanks,” Willow says. “It’s a good start.”
Gwen says, “I can’t wait till we own the place!”
Willow winks. “I’m working on it!”
EPILOGUE
AT PRECISELY FIVE-FORTY my limo pulls up to 99 East 52nd Street.
“Wish me well,” I say.
Callie kisses me. “Leave your phone on so I can hear. I’ll be close by in case you need me.”
“I doubt anyone would try to ambush me here, but-”
“But you never know. And anyway, I hate you being out of my sight, even for a couple of hours.”
“Thanks.”
“What if it’s two women he wants you to meet? What if they’re hookers and he’s got a big evening planned for the two of you?”
“What would you do if that happened?”
“Kill him.”
“You’d kill the man who saved your life?”
“I’ve already thanked him for that. Plus, he got to see me naked.”
“Good point.”
As I exit the car, Callie says, “If Rose is one of the guests, tell her I said hi.”
“Will do.”
I enter the door, climb the stairs that take me to a restaurant I haven’t been to in years.
The Four Seasons.
Dr. Box is waiting for me in the lounge area.
“Ready?” he says.
I look around, checking for anything that seems out of place.
If something is, they’ve done a hell of a job, because I can’t find it.
I follow Dr. Box into the Pool Room and scan the tables, but detect no one even remotely familiar to me. Eventually I see our destination is a table in the far corner. There’s a woman seated there, with her back to me, sitting with a little dark-haired girl.
“Ladies,” Dr. Box says as we approach, “I’d like to introduce you to my good friend, Donovan Creed.”
The lady stands, turns, and extends her hand.
“Hello, Donovan,” she says. “I’m so glad you could join us tonight. This is my daughter, Addie.”
I take a deep breath and say, “Hello, Kathleen.”
John Locke
***
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