Roped & Tied
Page 26
Jake glanced at Trey before he looked back at the manager and said, “This here’s Stephen. He runs the joint.”
After Trey shook hands with Stephen and introduced himself, Jake looked at Therese and asked, “Is Persia here?”
“Oh, no,” answered Therese. She laughed at him, adding, “You know she never comes to work until later. I bet that girl hasn’t ever in her life gotten up before two in the afternoon.”
‘Well, can somebody get ahold of her?” asked Jake. He pulled out his billfold and handed her a hundred-dollar bill as he added, “Tell her I’m here and I need her to bring me some loving.”
“Is this for me?” asked Therese.
“Of course,” said Jake. “You know I always take care of you.”
Therese turned and headed back behind the counter as she said, “I’ve got her number.” She sat back down in her chair and reached for the phone. They all laughed as she added, “For a hundred dollars, I’ll call that bitch, wake her ass up, and tell her anything you want me to.”
“Come on, fellows,” said Stephen as he held open one of the inner doors that led into club. “I’ll take care of your covers.”
“I appreciate that, Stephen,” said Jake. He and Trey stepped into the huge space inside the four walls of the club. Trey had never seen anything like it. There was a wall of mirrors behind the main stage with others off to each side. There were two bars downstairs, with one more up, and a light truss hanging over the main stage that had every conceivable colored light imaginable. Televisions tuned to ESPN were about everywhere they looked.
Five waitresses walked about the club tending to the last details of their opening duties but, as soon as one of them looked over and saw them walk in, she yelled, “Jake!” and ran over to greet them. “How have you been?” she asked after giving him a hug.
“I’m good,” said Jake, smiling. “How are you, Kat? You doing all right?”
“Better, now that you’re here,” said the waitress. She shook Trey’s hand and added, “Hi, I’m Kat.”
“Trey,” Trey replied.
“Nice to meet you,” said Kat. She pointed at the tables by the stage and asked, “You want to sit down here, or go upstairs to the VIP?”
“What do you think?” asked Jake.
Kat threw her palms open, then folded them back together as she replied, “Well, if it was me, I’d start down here. You fellows are the first ones in the building today, so it’s going to be a while before there’s more action upstairs than down.” She paused a moment as she glanced around the club, then added as she looked back at Jake, “It’s up to you, though; you have a membership. I can take you upstairs now if you want.”
“I think we’ll take your advice and take my table down here,” Jake decided. He pointed at a table next to a side stage and added, “We’ll go over there, then we’ll go upstairs to the VIP and watch the Rangers’ game at seven.”
“I guess y’all are going to be here for a while,” Kat laughed.
Jake started walking toward his table, Trey in tow, as he added, “Won’t be the first time.”
“What are y’all drinking?” she asked.
“Bring us a couple of Budweisers,” Jake told her, holding up two fingers.
“I’ll be right back,” replied Kat. “I’ll get your ashtray.” She turned and walked through the club, disappearing through a side door.
Trey asked, “Your ashtray?”
“Trey, I’m going to fill you in on a couple of things about me you never knew before today,” said Jake, sitting and pushing his black felt Resistal hat back on his head. He looked around the club as he added, “One is, I really like to hang out in titty bars, and two is, I like to smoke a good cigar every now and then.”
“You’re right. I didn’t know that,” said Trey. “Why do you like this table?”
“Two reasons,” answered Jake, grinning. He pointed to the side stage next to them and added, “One, we’re right close to that stage and pretty soon there’s going to be a different set of titties bouncing up and down right next to us the rest of the day.”
“That’s a great reason!” Trey smiled, a look of anticipation crossing his face.
Jake turned and pointed to the restroom door and added, “The other is we don’t have to go far to take a piss.”
“That’s another good reason. I’m starting to think we might have to use that occasionally today.”
“Once or twice,” Jake confirmed.
Trey’s attention was drawn to the front door as it opened. He watched a pretty young brunette girl walk in. His eyes followed her all the way across the club as she waved at Jake. “Damn, Jake,” he said. “How often do you come here? Seems like everybody in the place knows you.”
“It’s been awhile, but I used to get by here two or three times a month,” answered Jake. He sat back in his chair and added, “Hell, everybody needs a hide-out, don’t you think?”
Trey leaned his head back and laughed. “Shit, I ain’t thought about a hide-out since I was a little kid.”
“This here’s my hide-out,” said Jake, swinging his arm out in a wide arc. He glanced at Kat, who was returning to their table carrying a large ashtray, four Cohiba Robusto cigars, and two bottles of beer. “You know, Trey,” he said softly, “it’s never too late to have a happy childhood.”
Trey took the beer Kat handed him, then clinked his bottle with Jake’s as they toasted, “You know, Jake, you might be right,” he said. “Here’s to a happy childhood.”
Six hours and a case of beer later, Trey and Jake were still sitting in the same chairs, only now another table was pulled up next to theirs, and there were three dancers sitting around drinking with them. Club Royale was always busy at happy hour, even if it was a Monday, so the rest of the tables around them had dancers and customers sitting at them, too. Loud music, flashing strobe lights, and tobacco smoke filled the air. Although Trey was a little uncomfortable in the club at first, especially when the first dancer sat next to him and demanded he feel her new breast implants, the beer had helped him get over the feeling hours ago. Jake looked over at him every now and then and smiled, knowing his brother-in-law was having a blast.
Trey was trying to talk to and get dances from every girl in the place, and Jake was egging him on. Trey had been tight with his money his whole life and would never go through his cash like he was going through Jake’s, but Jake didn’t care. It wasn’t his first rodeo at Club Royale, and Jake had figured out the first rule about dancers when he went to his first topless club long ago, and that was that you didn’t get the best-looking girls at the finest topless bar in Dallas if you were cheap with the cash. That rule still held.
Shortly after they got there, Trey kept telling Jake he didn’t want to get any dances because twenty dollars a song added up quick, but Jake told him not to worry about it. “Look, Trey, it’s my money, so I can spend it anyway I want,” waving Trey’s protests off. He added, chuckling, “Besides, you’re not blowing money, you’re investing in the youth of America.”
Trey laughed at the thought, then happily spent a large part of the rest of the day with naked, perky boobs in his face.
Jake hadn’t gotten a single dance all day and had spent the last couple of hours talking to a black girl named Fallon. “Hey, I’ll be right back,” he said suddenly, and rose from his chair. He had just noticed a pretty, curly-haired, dark-skinned girl who entered the double doors. With a quiet apology to Fallon, Jake made a beeline to the newcomer as she made her way through the club.
“Hey, Persia,” he said, wrapping her in a warm hug. They exchanged a few pleasantries, then he motioned her to follow him over to a dark corner where he pulled out his billfold and asked quietly, “Did you bring me some loving?”
“Of course, Jake, the best.” She gazed up at him, smiling.
“I hope you brought enough to last me the rest of the night,” said Jake. “I don’t plan on leaving this place until the lights come on.”
Persia laug
hed. “Jake, don’t worry. I brought enough to last both of us for a couple days.”
Jake pulled out a few hundred-dollar bills and handed them to her. “You’re a life saver, honey. I knew I could count on you.” He closed her fingers over the cash. “Will that do it?”
“That’s enough for the blow,” Persia laughed. She grabbed Jake’s hand and rubbed it up against her crotch once before adding, “But you’re going to need more than that if you want any of this later.”
“Don’t worry about that, honey, I brought plenty of cash.” He grinned, hugging her again. “Go get dressed, then meet me back at my table.”
“I’ll be right there,” she said, heading for the dressing room.
When Jake got back and sat in his chair again, Trey commented, “That was a pretty girl.”
Fallon glanced at Trey and said, with just a touch of jealousy in her voice, “That’s Jake’s favorite.”
The girl sitting next to Trey chimed in, “Yeah, none of us other girls ever have a chance once she walks in.”
“Now, girls,” grinned Jake, not denying the accuracy of Fallon’s charge, “let’s not get catty.”
“Well, you know it’s true,” added Fallon as she gently tapped Jake on the arm.” She laughed as she added, “I might as well get up and move now so she can take my seat.”
Jake looked at her, then said, “Honey, you know I’m going take care of all of y’all. And you don’t have to get up out that chair, either.”
“Really?” asked Fallon with surprise,
“Really,” answered Jake. “At least not for another couple of minutes.”
Everyone at the table laughed, even Fallon, who said, “You’re an asshole, Jake.”
“You’re right about that, darling,” said Jake, “you’re right about that.”
Soon Jake’s attention was brought back to Persia, who came out of the dressing room and walked over to the table wearing a tiny blue, two-piece nothing that barely covered her private parts. Her bra covered her breasts well enough; however, the bottom she wore scarcely covered her vagina while leaving her butt cheeks completely exposed. She carried a small, silver purse and wore six-inch silver, sparkling, high-heeled stripper shoes. Her makeup perfectly accentuated her bright green eyes.
Fallon rose from her chair as Persia arrived at the table. “Here you go, honey, I was just keeping it warm for you.”
“You don’t have to go,” Jake protested as Persia sat down and put her purse in her lap.
“Yeah, I do, I’m on stage next,” answered Fallon, “but I’ll be right back.”
“Oh, sure,” said Jake with a shrug. He looked at Trey. “Trey, do you know what the most common lie is that’s ever been told by any girl who’s been a stripper?” Trey shook his head. “It’s ‘I’ll be right back’,” said Jake, giving Trey the answer gleefully. That drew a hoot of laughter from the group.
Persia fiddled in her lap. She pushed her purse down to her knees where it was hidden beneath the white tablecloth, then pulled out a bag of white powder and slipped it to Jake. It was a smooth exchange, well concealed, even had someone been watching.
Jake put the bag into his left front pocket, then stretched a bit in his chair before he stood up as Kat approached the table. “Kat,” he told her, “I need to go to the pisser and, when I get back, I want a Jack and Coke in front of me.”
“Double?” asked Kat.
Jake smiled before he turned to walk toward the restroom, “You know me pretty well, don’t you?” He stopped on the way at a vending machine that dispensed cigarettes and snacks, put a few quarters in and bought a couple of packages of gum. Jake knew Trey wouldn’t be too pleased if he knew he was on drugs, and chewing gum would keep him from grinding his teeth. He put the gum in the pocket of his shirt, then stepped inside the restroom where he waited a few seconds for another patron to finish drying his hands. After the customer walked back into the club, the bathroom attendant and Jake were the only other people there. Jake pulled a hundred-dollar bill out of his wallet and gave it to the black man.
“What’s this for?” asked the black man, who wore a name tag on his black vest that read “Marlin.”
“That’s for you,” answered Jake. He pointed to the toilet stalls and added, “Marlin, I got a bad sinus infection and I’m going to be blowing my nose back there. I just want to make sure you don’t think I’m up to no good.”
“Mr. Jake,” Marlin said, taking the bill and putting it in the front pocket of his vest, “You know I can’t hear a damn thing.”
“Right answer,” said Jake, heading for the furthest back stall, “That’s real good.”
* * *
Seven hours later, Jake, Trey, and two girls were upstairs in the VIP area of the club and had watched the Texas Rangers lose to the Chicago White Sox 3-2. Because it was just before midnight on a Monday, the club was not very busy and they only had to share the entire VIP area with one other table.
Jake hadn’t said anything yet, but he had been giving a man across the room the eye every now and then. The man, middle-aged and black, sat with a fair-skinned white girl. Jake hadn’t liked seeing a black man with a white woman his whole life, and Trey could tell the sight was getting under Jake’s skin. Trey was uncomfortable every time Jake looked over to the table and thought there might be trouble if Jake said anything to the man.
Trey had quit drinking beer two hours earlier and was now on his fourth glass of water, trying to sober up. He knew it was time for him to cut himself off because he had spilled a beer all over their glass table top, and then, after the busboy cleaned it up and he ordered another, he immediately spilled that one, too. As the effects of the alcohol slowly started to abate, he wondered how Jake could keep putting away the Jack and Cokes without getting drunk. He had no idea Jake was on something other than alcohol.
Most of Trey’s attention was focused on the pretty blonde girl next to him who went by the name Jenny, but every now and then he would look across the table at Jake and notice how he grinded his teeth when he wasn’t talking, how his speech was abnormally fast, and how dilated his eyes were.
He didn’t think about it too long, though, because they were both having a great time. Persia, who had been topless for the last two hours or so, sat on Jake’s lap and would grab the back of his head and pull his face between her breasts so he could yell “Motor boat!” Then he’d quickly blow on one breast, then the other. Up to now, Jenny had Trey completely convinced that she really liked him. In a few minutes, however, he would find out how wrong he was.
“Honey,” Jake told Persia, “you’re going to have to get off my lap so I can go drain the lizard.”
“Again?” asked Persia as she stood and stepped out of his way.
Jake winked and briefly rubbed the side of his right nostril as he answered, “Yeah, all this booze is going right through me.” He stumbled a bit as he stood and tried to grab the table to regain his balance, but his grip slipped on the underside of the table. Instead of righting himself, Jake upended every drink on the table as he pulled the glass table top off the base onto the floor as he fell backward.
Both girls at the table screeched as drinks flew everywhere and the glass shattered into hundreds of pieces. At first, Trey and the two girls started laughing hysterically, but they stopped quickly after Jake got back on his feet. There was a gash on Jake’s right forearm that was quickly turning the white sleeve of his shirt blood red.
“Oh, my God!” said Persia, covering her mouth with both hands.
Being as coked up as he was, Jake didn’t feel the cut. Embarrassed, he looked at everyone blankly. Then he said, “Damn, I’m sorry, y’all. That was stupid!”
Trey was quickly on his feet, grabbing Jake by his left arm. “Come on, Jake, we got to get you to the bathroom.”
“Let go of me,” roared Jake as he pulled his arm free. As he jerked away, however, he noticed the growing red stain on his sleeve and added with surprise, “Holy shit! Would you look at that!”
As soon as they got to the sink, Jake unbuttoned his sleeve and rolled it up to look at the cut. “Oh, this ain’t nothing,” he said, turning the water on to rinse off his arm.
“I’ll go get the first aid kit the managers keep in the office,” said Jenny as she dashed out the door.
Jake was holding the cut closed with the fingers of his left hand to help slow the bleeding as the restroom door swung open. The black man who had been sitting at the other table walked in. He stepped up to Jake’s right side so he could get a look at his arm. “I’m a doctor. Is there anything I can do to help?”
“Yeah, and I’m an astronaut,” said Jake sarcastically, shoving his face close to the other man’s.
The man stepped back a bit, then answered, “No, really, I am a doctor.” He reached over to take Jake’s arm, adding, “The name’s Martin Black, MD.”
At that point, something inside Jake snapped. Looking back, he would always say he just had one too many lines of cocaine and one too many Jack Daniels and, although there was plenty of truth in the excuse, the reality was much more than that. In a millisecond, a flood of thoughts flashed through his mind like a lightning bolt that lit up the deepest, darkest corners of his soul, exposing every suppressed demon he ever tried to entomb underneath a mountain of drugs and an ocean of alcohol. All were thoughts of hate. He hated his wife because she stole his glory days and he hated himself for being a washed-up has-been. He hated the fact that Adam Torres was out on the circuit and about to be collecting gold buckles every year, and Jake would never have the chance to prove to the world that he was a far better calf roper than that way-too-nice kid would ever be. He hated the look in his wife’s eyes after she woke up the next morning with cuts and bruises he couldn’t remember causing the night before and, most of all, he hated the fact that all his hates would never go away. No amount of drugs or alcohol could ever make the demons in him die. They might disappear for hours, or maybe for even days at a time, but they were always there, lurking within, smirking at him, knowing he was powerless to stop them from rearing their ugly faces again and again.