by Elle Casey
“Stay away from the pimps,” whispered Aimee, smiling.
Kiki grinned back. “No problem.”
Aimee walked up to the front desk and followed the nurse’s instructions to move through the double doors into the actual examination area. She looked back at the emergency room doors, watching as Kiki walked out, drawing every eye in the place toward her. Aimee tried to remember if she’d ever seen anyone that pretty close-up, and decided that she hadn’t. It was kind of depressing to think that someone like that was stuck in a dead-end job, unhappy, and as far as Aimee could tell, without a man in her life. It made her own prospects seem nearly hopeless. She pushed through the doors and was greeted by a young doctor who looked rushed and unhappy. Great. This guy’s about to stick me with a needle in the back of my head. Thanks a lot, Jack, you jerk.
Chapter 8
“YA LATE,” SAID ANTHONY, THE host – slash – bouncer at the front door of Lola’s, the steakhouse and strip club where Kiki worked. “Duke’s pissed. Ya’d better try to avoid him if ya can.”
“Thanks, Auntie. I’ll keep my eyes open.”
“Don’t call me dat. You know I don’t like it. It’s Anthony, not Auntie.” His version of ‘Anthony’ sounded more like ‘Ant-Knee’.
“It’s your Jersey accent. It confuses me.”
“My accent ain’t dat bad.”
Kiki rolled her eyes as she walked past him. “Whatever you say, Auntie.” She worked for a bunch of guidos. It was so ridiculously cliché, it was funny. She had to catch herself to keep from imitating their accents outside of work; they were addictive.
Kiki walked past the front of the steakhouse part of the business and over through the double doors leading to the strip club section. She was heading to the dressing room and had almost made it there, before the general manager waylaid her.
“Kiki. Ya late. Again.”
“Yeah, I’m sorry about that. I was visiting with Cindi in the hospital. You know her, right? Cindi? Cute blond? Green eyes? She’s worked here for five years?”
Duke rolled his eyes. “Don’t play games. Ya know I care about ha. But I ain’t gettin’ involved. Ya know my policy.”
“Yeah, yeah, I know. You’re all about the business. So much for being family.” Duke, Anthony, and their father, the patriarch of the Lola’s Steakhouse and Dancing empire, were fond of saying that all the employees, especially the dancers, were part of the big DeLucca family.
“Ya know, Kiki, ya push me too far an’ ... ”
“And what, Duke? Are you going to fire me? Because if you are, please, do it now. Save me the drunken feel-ups and drooling idiots for tonight, would you please?”
Duke put his hands on his hips just below his ample love handles, “Ya’d betta rememba it’s those drunken idiots who are butterin’ ya bread, young lady. Y’outta be more appreciative. Maybe ya forgot who paid for dat nice little townhouse and dat boom-boom car ya got.”
Kiki got up into his face. He was several inches shorter than her, and she liked looking down at him, knowing how much he hated it. “Oh yeah? Well, I butter your bread, little man, so I think you’d better be more appreciative of me.”
He held up his hands and backed off. “What? What’d I say? Ya know I love ya, Kiki. You’re my favorite girl. Always have been. Who sends the high rollers ya way?” He poked his chest with a fat thumb. “Duke does, dat’s who. Nobody loves Kiki more’n Duke DeLucca.”
Kiki tried not to smile, but it was hard. He tried to act so mafia tough all the time, but he was just a goofball trying like hell to please his dad and act all full of his second generation Italian-ness … and failing miserably on both counts. Kiki nodded. “That’s right. You’re my biggest fan, Duke. I know. I appreciate you.”
Duke smiled and stepped closer to her, reaching his hand out to touch her.
Kiki moved her shoulder out of the way and held up her finger in his face. “Hands off the merchandise, Dukey Doo. Or I’ll lay you out right here on this floor.”
“I hate when ya call me dat, Kiki. Cut it out. I was just gonna say it’s okay if ya late. If it was one of the udda girls, it wouldn’t be. But choo? … ” he tapped his right breast. “… Ya gotta special place in Duke’s heart.”
“Duke, that’s your lung. Your heart’s on the other side.”
“Whateva,” he growled at her, scowling, “just go get dressed. Ya’re on in twenny minutes.”
Kiki smiled, happy that she’d managed to get Duke cranky before starting her set. He was much more fun to be around when his feathers were ruffled, and it was so easy to get them that way. It was worth the little bit of effort.
Kiki went through the black door with the Employees Only sign on it and saw that the back of the house was packed. The girls were laughing and goofing around – all but one of them. Shawnda was in the middle of putting on her makeup, looking over at Cindi’s empty spot in the line of lighted tables with mirrors attached to them.
Kiki went over and dropped into a nearby chair. “What’s up, girl?”
The black beauty looked over at Kiki, her eyes big pools of sadness. “Nothin’. Not in the mood to be here. At all.” She looked back at the mirror.
“Are you ever in the mood to be here?”
Shawnda sighed. “No. What about you? What’s up?” Her eyes connected with Kiki’s in the mirror.
“Nothing. I went to see Cindi.”
Shawnda’s eyes perked up. “Really? How’s she doin’?”
“Good. Better. I think she’s going to be fine. Her nurse said the head injury isn’t going to leave any permanent damage.”
Shawnda turned and grabbed Kiki’s hands, relief washing over her face. “Oh my gawd, girl, I was so worried. I couldn’t even bring myself to go see her.” Tears appeared in her eyes and she instantly looked sad again. “What kind of shit friend am I?”
Kiki squeezed Shawnda’s hands and then let them go. Grabbing a menu off the nearby table, she fanned Shawnda’s face. “Dry ‘em up, girl! No time for tears. You’re on in five!”
Shawnda smiled, using a delicate fingertip with a very long acrylic, French-manicured fingernail on it to keep the tear from spilling over and ruining her makeup. “The show must go on, right?”
“Yeah,” said Kiki sadly. Then she snapped out of her little melancholy moment and said in a serious tone, “You know, we need to get out of this shit job. Let’s do it. Do it with me.”
Shawnda picked up a bronzing brush and swiped it over strategic places around her face, pausing to turn her head from left to right to survey her results. “This is the best place in town, you know that. Where you wanna go from here? Downtown? Huh-uh. You’re better than that. I’m better than that. We got a good deal going here.”
“I don’t mean get out of here, as in Lola’s ... I mean get out of dancing. Like, permanently.”
Shawnda put her brush down and turned to look at Kiki, a what-are-you-crazy?-look on her face, saying nothing.
“I’m serious,” said Kiki.
“No, you’re not. What? Are you going to go back to school? Become a doctor?” Shawnda laughed at her own joke before going back to her bronzing.
“No. But I could go back to school and do something. I have savings.”
“You’ll spend that savings in a month. You have expensive taste. You need a job that pays biiiig tips to afford your own self.”
“I could cut back. I haven’t spent that much.” Not by a long shot, she thought, but she never shared that personal stuff with anyone.
“Well, I ain’t leavin’. But I do have some plans. I’ll be making some changes soon.”
Kiki eyed her suspiciously. “What kind of changes?” In their business, if you said you were staying in but making some changes, it usually only meant one thing.
Shawnda didn’t answer.
Kiki was instantly pissed. “No, Shawnda! You can’t!”
Shawnda put her brush down and turned in her seat to face Kiki. “I talked to Bobby. It’s all worked out. He promised
he’s going to get me some good clients – regulars – who have money and aren’t into kinky shit. It’s going to be fine. You should come with me.”
Kiki dropped her face into her hands. She shouted a scream of frustration in them and then looked up at Shawnda, who was now sitting there with a definite chip on her shoulder. “Shawnda, please. Come on, you’re better than this! You’re beautiful, smart, capable ... you could do anything with your life. You don’t need to sell yourself like that!”
“Shut up, Kiki. Not everyone has what you have.”
“What? What are you talking about? What do I have that you don’t have?”
“You’re white for one.”
“Oh, fuck that, Shawnda. That’s just an excuse. You are amazing. Gorgeous. You don’t need some drugged out pimp hooking you up with losers for pocket change.”
“Who said anything about pocket change? I told you, Bobby is getting me good clients.”
“There’s no such thing as a good john, Shawnda. And I know you’re smarter than that. They pay big money and then think they own you. They make you do things they can’t make their wives do. Think about it!”
“Whatever.” Shawnda turned back to her mirror, leaning in closer to get a better look at her false eyelashes. “I’m doing it. It’s too late to back out now. I have my first client tonight.”
Kiki stood up, disgusted with her friend. “Well, when you get your face beat in, don’t come crying to me saying you didn’t know it would happen. I warned you.”
Shawnda pick up a hairbrush and threw it at Kiki’s retreating form. “Get outta here. You’re bringin’ me down. I have to go dance now with a sad face, thanks to you. My tips are gonna be terrible.”
Kiki leaned down and picked up the brush, walking over and putting it gently back on the makeup table. She bent over and kissed Shawnda on the cheek. “I’m only kidding. When you get your face beat in, I’ll visit you in the hospital, just like I did Cindi.”
Shawnda reached around Kiki’s leg to pinch her on the butt, but Kiki was too quick, twisting out of the way.
“I told Duke, and I’m telling you now,” said Kiki, as she walked away toward her own makeup table, “hands off the merchandise.”
Shawnda smiled at her in the mirror and then went back to her primping, not saying anything in response.
Kiki grabbed a keychain out of her satchel and threw the bag down on the floor under her table. She used the smallest key on the ring to open up the locked drawer in front of her. It released a mechanism, unlocking the other drawers on either side. Inside was over a thousand dollars in makeup, eyelashes, brushes, and other beauty accoutrements.
As she began picking out the ones she was going to use for her set that evening, her eye fell on a few colors she knew would look good on Elizabeth. She’d noticed Elizabeth’s pretty blue eyes, just begging for a little bit of smoky eyeliner to emphasize their size and sparkle.
And the warm golds and browns she kept in the second drawer would be perfect for Aimee. She had such a peachy complexion – it would be so easy to draw that healthy glow out with minimal fuss.
She shut the drawers, cutting off the thoughts of making over her book-nerd friends. She wasn’t even sure if they qualified as friends yet. No use getting ahead of myself. In her experience, most women weren’t comfortable with exotic dancers as friends. And her friends who were exotic dancers themselves, weren’t the most dependable. They either left the game or joined a new one like Shawnda was planning to do. Then they got addicted to drugs or alcohol, or ended up dead.
She pulled some false eyelashes and the glue she use to put them on out of her drawer. “Not me,” she said to the mirror before picking up a compact with cream foundation inside. She applied it with a special brush she had just for the purpose of smoothing out her skin tones before painting them back on, applying perfect shadows and sparkle in just the right places when she was finished. “I’m outta here. Soon.”
“Who you talkin’ to, Kiki?” asked Duke, materializing out of a dark corner of the room.
“Duke, you know you’re not supposed to be back here. Get out.” Kiki ignored him, working her magic with her brushes, opting for a very dark, almost black look to outline her upper lids. She was feeling a little morose after seeing Cindi all beat up and now hearing Shawnda talking stupid. She was going to do her Nine Inch Nails set. That always got the money flowing into her coffers, and it let her drop into one of her darker moods at work. It was a win-win. She worked off her negativity and made more money while she did it. If she was for sure going to get out of the dancing game, and she’d pretty much made up her mind in that exact moment that she was, she needed to make some serious bank tonight.
“I just wanted to tell ya dat dat guy I told ya about is here. The high rollah. I told him all about ya, and he said he’s looking forward to meetin’ ya.”
“How do you know this guy, anyway?”
“He’s on da Board.”
Kiki’s hand froze in mid-blush-application. “The Board of what?”
“Da Board of Edjacation, whattya think? No, da Board of Lola’s.”
“You guys have a Board? Is he family?” Kiki couldn’t remember hearing this news before. She thought she knew everything about the family, including all the DeLuccas here and still over in Italy. Their family tree had branches that went everywhere, and they were true Catholics – there wasn’t a single DeLucca couple with less than five kids.
“No, he ain’t family. He’s one of da lawyers dat Pops hired this year. Tryin’ to class up the place.”
Kiki went back to her makeup. This was just Duke talking out of his butt again, trying to act like he was more in the know than he really was. “The place is as classy as it’s going to get, Dukey Doo.”
“Well, da Board don’t think so. So Pops invited them to come and check it out. I don’t think it’s their usual thing, ya know?”
“No, I don’t know. All men like stripteases. It’s in their DNA.”
“Don’t I know it. Thank the Good Lord for dat.” He did the Catholic cross on his chest. “Anyway, da guy’s sittin’ at table twenny. He’s got a suit on. See what you can do about gettin’ it off. At least the tie anyhow.”
“Oh, I’ll get it off, alright,” said Kiki under her breath. An uptight lawyer in a suit? Easy pickings. He’d be putty in her hands before the end of the first song.
“Okay, well, get yaself extra sexy. Ya need to impress him.”
Kiki gave Duke her scariest warning look. “Duke. Leave. Before I put lipstick on you.”
He backed up a step, hands out. “Hey ... keep dat girl stuff away from me. Ya know I ain’t like dat.” A sweat had broken out across his forehead.
Kiki smiled. “I know you wear our underwear and heels when we leave them here. Don’t worry, Dukey Doo. Your secret is safe with me.”
Duke pointed a shaking finger at Kiki’s face as he backed away some more. “Dat ain’t true! Ya betta not be tellin’ people dat! And stop callin’ me dat doo doo name or whateva!” He turned and rushed out of the dressing room.
The girls sitting around listening in on the conversation started laughing. Kiki smiled, turning back to the mirror. She posed, pursing her lips and turning her face left and right, admiring her work and making an air kiss at her reflection. Perfect.
Reaching down into her satchel, she pulled out part of the costume she would be wearing for her one and only dance tonight. It weighed just a few ounces – a pair of barely there underwear and a bra in dark blue lace with rhinestones to set off the cut of the lines. A new pair of thigh-high silk stockings with a seam up the back completed the underthings part of the costume.
She stood and turned to the rack of clothing behind her. It contained her costumes, ones she’d had custom made to fit her measurements. Out came the dark navy, pinstriped business suit with all its accompanying pieces – a prim, white, button-down Brooks Brothers shirt, a pencil skirt that ended way too high above the knee, and a suit jacket, all in matching,
light wool fabric. She unlocked the case behind the clothing rack and pulled out the dark blue designer platform stilettos with the five-inch heels.
She put the underwear on and the hose, making sure the seams were perfectly straight and centered on the backs of her legs. The clothing ensemble and shoes followed, effectively transforming Kiki into a six-foot-two-inch-tall, high-powered business woman – or at least, that was the illusion. She stood in front of one of the full-length mirrors nearby, turning to admire herself in profile. All she needed were the finishing touches.
From one of the drawers she took out a long string of white pearls with a knot in them, putting them on over her head and resting them between her breasts. Then she quickly twisted her hair up and stuck a few pins in the knot she’d made. A few loose curls hung down at the sides of her face, and the rest was caught up in a loose bun. Just a couple of pulls on the pins and all of it would drop down in a wavy mass.
She stood there, her image reflected in the mirror, every inch a man’s sexual fantasy. Tonight she was a conservative businesswoman on the outside, like Elizabeth, ready to be revealed as the sexy stripper she was on the inside. It was a very well-received fantasy at Lola’s, guaranteed to bring in the biggest tips.
The pearls would stay on for the entire dance. Kiki knew that guys liked pearls on naked women. It made them fantasize about being the ones to give her their own set of special pearls. It was so easy to manipulate their minds into reaching for their wallets.
Kiki walked over to the door that led to the stage and stepped through so she could watch Shawnda do her thing and possibly catch a peek of Mister Important Board Member. As soon as her eyes adjusted to the dim lights, she was able to pick him out. He sat in front, engaged in conversation with the man next to him. His tie was cinched up as tight as it would go, his jacket still on. Man, how uptight can a guy possibly be? He was gorgeous, if you like the perfectly groomed, aristocratic-looking type. Maybe he was English; he had that European air about him.
