Midnight Ballerina (7 page)

Neither one of them heard me when I came out and I was okay with that. Music blared from the speakers, and they were giggling about something right before Vanessa hopped onto the pole and twirled around it with ease. Vanessa was, hands down, Pure’s best dancer. The guys flocked to the stage whenever she came out and drooled the whole time she was on it. I could guarantee that she went home every night with her pockets and purse stuffed full of money.

But Monroe was completely different when she grabbed onto the pole next to Vanessa. There was something so graceful and beautiful about the way she glided around it. Mesmerizing. I could only assume that either she was a first-timer or didn’t have much experience if she needed lessons from Vanessa. But she was more ready for the stage than half the girls that worked for me. For some reason, the idea of her dancing in front of a packed room filled with customers throwing bills at her, didn’t sit right with me. I had to remember that this was my business though, and that was her job.

I managed to tear my eyes away from them and went back into my office, just in time to hear my phone chiming from my desk. I groaned when I saw it was Tara, then grabbed it and turned the ringer off. There was no way I could talk to Tara at that moment. I needed to get out of there so I could think clearly. My office was still a mess, paperwork everywhere, even though I’d been there for an hour. I hadn’t gotten a thing done since I walked through the front doors, but I would save it for another time—preferably when Monroe wasn’t there.

Women and their damn distractions.

MY BODY WAS exhausted from all the recent workouts with Vanessa, and I was hoping that tonight would be a little slow, but I had a feeling that rarely happened. The club was almost always to maximum capacity every shift I worked. I guess it was a good thing, but I wished that just this once I could check out early.

Maybe I would be able to catch a glimpse of Mr. Buchanan—I mean, Miller.

I’d seen him a few times in the two weeks since I started at Pure. He never said much to anyone besides Randy, but I didn’t think that it was because he was being rude or thought his employees were beneath him. I got the impression he was just a very quiet, private person. I saw him focused intently, almost brooding, a couple of times when I’d passed by his open office door.

Every time I laid eyes on him, I found him more and more attractive.

“Hey, doll. Bianca give you your section for the night yet?” Randy waved me over as soon as I walked out into the main area of the club.

“Yup, I have the back section.” Now that Bianca figured I wasn’t going anywhere, she decided to give me the worst section anytime we were scheduled together. I didn’t mind because it gave me a little bit of a break, but if I had the stage area like she did every night, I’d definitely make loads more money.

“Well, your section doesn’t look too busy right now so I need you to do me a favor.”

“Um…I guess.”

Randy drummed his fingertips on the countertop of the bar a few times before looking back at me and blowing out a deep breath.

“All right. Follow me then.” He crooked his finger and headed down the same hallway where Miller’s office was located. I passed Bianca as I went in that direction and she glared at me, which I simply just shrugged off. I was used to her death stares and I really didn’t care. “So, here’s the deal.” Randy stopped at an unopened door, his hand resting on the knob as he spoke in a hushed tone. “You’ll get seventy percent of the cut after you’re finished. I’ll be right outside so if anything too funny happens, just yell and I’ll be there. This guy’s a VIP and specifically requested you, so give him his money’s worth and maybe I can hook you up with a few more of these gigs.”

“Gigs? What are you talking about, Randy? You haven’t said anything about me getting up on the stage.”

“I’m not talking about the stage, doll. Now, get in there. You’ll be just fine.” He gave me a slight push just as he opened the door and snapped it shut with a bang. It took a few minutes for my vision to adjust to the darkly lit room, and I jumped when my eyes landed on a couch in the corner, realizing there was someone sitting on it.

“Um…hi?” It came out as more of a question because I was confused on what in the hell was going on. I didn’t recognize the man, but he was in a suit and had one leg crossed over the other, a drink propped up in his hand. Maybe he didn’t like being out with the other customers and I was supposed to keep the drinks coming? I didn’t really understand the whole reason for actually coming to a strip club then if you couldn’t even see the stage.

“Ah, so Randy talked to you, I see. Did he explain the arrangement I proposed?”

“Arrangement?” I repeated, cautiously taking a step forward when he waved his hand for me to come closer.

“He didn’t explain it then.” He frowned deeply before taking a long sip of his drink. “That guy sure is peculiar, isn’t he?”

I nodded my head in complete agreement. Peculiar indeed. I’d thought Randy was an okay guy when we first met, better than what I was expecting, but something seemed to be a little off. He appeared antsy about something, and then he went and shoved me in this room tonight without much of an explanation.

“Well, let’s get to why you’re here. I’ve been watching you.”

“O-kay.” I took a step backward and he chuckled. I had no idea what was funny about the situation and I was pretty sure I now had a stalker. I put my hand on the doorknob and twisted, but nothing happened. Panic set in as I realized Randy had locked me in the room. What the fuck was going on?

“Calm down,” he said in what I think was supposed to be a soothing voice, but it just made me want to break the door down. “You can leave at any time; it’s just locked so no one interrupts us. Let me explain why you’re here first, though. Then if you want to leave, feel free.”

I didn’t answer him, but instead pressed my back up against the door, willing for it to open.

“I just want a little alone time, that’s all. A private showing, dance a little, maybe more. Either way, it doesn’t matter. When we’re finished, you go your way, I go mine, and then you get paid. Sounds fair, right?”

My mind raced at the ‘maybe more’ part and I was about to throw up at what I thought this guy was suggesting. Basically, he was saying I could ‘maybe’ be a prostitute if things went further than a little dancing. Is that what these rooms were really set up for? Did Mr. Buchanan know things like that went on in the back of the club?

“Nope…not happening. I’m not that type of girl and I have no idea why you or Randy would think that. He didn’t say a word to me. That is illegal! Don’t you have a wife or a girlfriend? A guy like you can find a girl—a nice, respectful girl that I’m sure you wouldn’t have to pay!”

The guy’s eyebrows twisted together. “That’s not the point of this. It’s the thrill of it, darlin’. Can’t you feel that crackle in the air? The idea of getting caught if anything were to happen between us. We can even unlock the door, if you’re into that kind of thing.”

“No, no, no, no,” I repeated forcibly. “Thanks for the um…offer, but I would really like to go now.”

“Okay, that’s fine. But let me just tell you that you’re missing out. I have a feeling you could be a very dirty girl if you just let loose.”

You have got to be kidding me
. People actually said things like that? I turned around and pounded my fists on the door, hearing it unclick quickly, and rushed past Randy as soon as it was open, knocking him back into the wall.

“You’re an asshole, Randy. Why would you think I would I do something like that? Do I seem like that type of girl? Money for sex? I. Am. Not. A. Whore!” I yelled the last part and he at least had the decency to look down at the floor.

“Whoa, whoa back up a step there, Monroe.” He held his hands up defensively. “He was looking to have a good time with a nice girl like you. He wasn’t paying for prostitution. We don’t do things like that here. I just know you were looking to make some money, I figured—”

“Well, you figured wrong,” I interrupted. “I can’t believe people actually come here for that kind of stuff and I can’t believe that you supply them with it. You know it’s illegal, right? I could get you in so much trouble—”

“Monroe,” he scoffed, “that’s not what that was at all. He just wanted a private dance, that’s it. Miller only allows a few select customers to go in the back, ones that he can trust because he doesn’t want people hearing about it and getting the wrong idea. I thought maybe you would be interested, but clearly you’re not. It’s not a big deal, all right?”

I nodded my head once, confused by what really happened in that room. Maybe I had misunderstood the guy. Maybe he did just want me to dance for him in private. Or maybe he added that part on about something more possibly happening and Randy knew nothing about it.

Randy must have taken my silence as agreement to be quiet or something, because he clapped his hands together and smiled smugly. “All right then, glad we got that all cleared up. Why don’t you take the rest of the night off, Monroe?”

And then he walked away.

I trudged out to my car, wary about what had gone down with Randy. I felt I’d been punished for doubting him, and was conflicted about the whole situation and what exactly happened. The thought of telling someone still hung in my mind, but who? And more importantly, was there anything to tell?

I always had a picture of strip clubs in my mind, thinking that things went on behind closed doors, but Pure didn’t seem that way. From all I’d heard, Miller seemed like a smart businessman, so I assumed he tried to run a pretty respectable place. The dancers were basically prancing around in stuff that was similar to a bikini. I mean, that wasn’t too bad. Besides, if any funny business had been going on, I was certain Vanessa would have warned me. She knew how sketched out I was about even the possibility of dancing. Maybe the guy was just trying to get more bang for his buck. Literally.

That had to be it. And I couldn’t blame Randy for other people’s actions, especially when he was just trying to help me make some extra cash. He was the manager; he wouldn’t do anything illegal. At least I didn’t think he would.