Authors: Alice Dee
“What do I have to do? What will it take?” He got out of bed and stood in front of the doorway. He was like a bulky refrigerator; there was no way to out-maneuver him.
“Let me go.”
“Can we just talk about it?”
“Talking about it won’t make it better.” She tried to move passed him so he grabbed her by both arms and sat her down on the bed.
“It’s because you saw her tonight, right?”
“No,” she said, looking down at her hands. “It’s because you did.”
He raised his brows, looking her deep in the eyes. There was something almost wolfish in his features, especially his eyes. It needled her right in the chest to look into them because that trust and familiarity with him, that security, it was only half there. She would forever doubt him and his judgment now.
He sighed and got down on his knees, taking her hands in his.
“Tristan I don’t even think about her. I’m always thinking about you and all the ways I can make it better.”
Why let Hope win? Tristan wondered. Physically he was hers and that’s all that really mattered. Something had to be anchoring him down and whatever it was -Tristan wasn’t quite sure yet- she’d dedicate 110% to it.
“If I could just get it out of my head…”
“You used to strip.”
She looked at Dominic. “What does that have to do with anything?”
“You used to grind your ass all over random dick. You think that was easy for me to watch? You laughed it off, I dealt with it.”
Her mouth was hanging open.
“That’s different! You met me there, it was my job, you knew that.”
“I quit that job after we got together. Maybe you should’ve done the same.”
“I may have been stripping but I wasn’t screwing anybody else, you fucking loser!”
She headed for the door but he didn’t stop her this time.
When she was gone he got back into bed and stared at the ceiling again.
She sure did look good, though. But Shane, that little prick. What balls he had. Dominic closed his eyes, Hope on his mind. She was on his mind all the time.
46…The guys upstairs
Hope was in deep sleep early this morning when Hammer called her and told her she had to be at a “meeting” in two hours. What kind of shit was this? Well, lately he’d been pulling all kinds of ridiculousness. Things at Club F01 were changing, that was for sure. Hope had a feeling that this change wouldn’t be for the better, at least not for her. She reluctantly dressed in a sleeveless turtle neck and long form fitting pencil skirt.
“Just add a little professionalism to your styles, if that’s possible,” he said to her over the phone. Hope often wondered why Hammer was such a woman hater. He must have mommy issues, she convinced herself.
She walked across the glossy ivory and navy blue marbled floors to the front desk of The Lucky Star. A bald man in a suit stepped out of the shadows and introduced himself to Hope.
“You are Hope Flowers, right?” he asked, taking her hand in his.
“Flores,” she politely corrected.
“I like that. Come, follow me.”
She glanced at the woman behind the front desk, glancing back at her. She looked away and went on with her business. Hope followed.
“Andrew Lachey.”
Hope looked at him incredulously.
“Really, that’s your name?”
They stepped inside the elevator. She couldn’t get the feel or his warm dough-like hand off of her own. She casually wiped her hand off on her hip. They stepped out of the elevator when it stopped at the penthouse floor. He walked her to one of the suites and swiped a plastic card through a brass box. A little light flashed green and the door clicked open. The inside was glowing bright with day light and the aroma of air conditioned cigarettes no longer filled her head. She was taken aback by a panoramic view of surrounding Las Vegas. It was day time so everything consisted of pale blues and greys, misted with sandy gold.
Hammer was there, sitting his disgusting ass on the sofa with a drink in his hand. Hope felt super uncomfortable till she stepped farther in the room and saw most of her coworkers sitting across from Hammer. She asked what they were doing there, particularly Shamayla who shrugged. Hope sat down between the girls.
Some random guy in the room shot Hammer a look. He got up on his feet and cleared his throat.
“Girls, this is Andew Lachey-“
“You own The Lucky Star,” Glenna cut in, looking at Andrew.
“I own half,” he said matter of factly. “
“But he owns F-01 completely,” Hammer felt the need to remind them.
Hope didn’t know where this was going but she wished she was high.
“As you know, things have been ever changing at Club F01. Well, we’re heading in a new direction; I’m talking big time, girls.”
Glenna crossed her arms.
“Big time?” She swung her ponytail over her shoulder, her silver loops nearly brushing her bare shoulders.
“Club F01 is done,” Andrew said through his painfully tight features.
“What’s that mean?” Shamayla asked, fear setting in.
“It means in months, we introduce a whole new club, a whole new game plan.”
Hope bit her bottom lip.
“I can tell you right now,” said Hammer, “Not all the gals are going to like this, and some of you will definitely be seeking employment elsewhere.”
Andrew chuckled and shook his head.
“Don’t listen to this asshole. Look, ladies, I want to keep the decency. People seem to respond to that. So I don’t want strippers,” he laughed as if that was ridiculous. “Just you know, risqué type, dancing and the exotic look… you’re all great at drawing in, alluring people.”
“We’re not hypnotists,” one of the girls mumbled.
“I beg to differ,” Andrew said, his head glossing in the daylight.
“One more thing,” Hammer added as a woman with a tray of colorful fruit kabobs knelt before the girls. They each grabbed one; Shamayla looked back at Hammer.
“Although there’s no taking off your clothes out on the floor or nothing, we’ll considering VIP rooms.”
Hope stopped before biting into a juicy bit of pineapple.
“What goes on in these VIP rooms?” Hope asked, making her eyes small at him.
“Whatever the customer wants,” he said with an arrogant smile.
“Not sex,” Andrew was quick to add. “But,” he went on, “a good show, a private show. You girls will be the secret everyone knows about but doesn’t talk about.”
“That’s not a secret,” Shamayla said as Hope let the pineapple fall to the floor.
“Oh but it is,” Hammer answered back.
Andrew stepped out of the penthouse. Hope was walking so fast he had to jog to catch up with her.
“Hope, Hope!” He stopped the elevator door from shutting with his hand. “Can we talk? Just hear me out.”
“It’s not the job for me. I’ll be fine, I’ll take Hammer’s advice and seek employment elsewhere-“
“Wait, please Flores, Wait.” He convinced her to step out of the elevator for a moment.
“Like I said, you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.”
“Just hire girls who want to do that kind of thing. That shouldn’t be too hard to find.”
“People really respond to you. You’re all very beautiful and talented and, no that isn’t always easy to find. Look, I took it upon myself to step in personally, to get to know each and every one of you. I’m trying to do that. I respect you Hope. I respect all of you. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.”
Hope looked away from his face and stared at nothing to the right of him.
“You can die out with the club if you want, you can walk away once F01 is finished, which it will be. Or you can come on board. The pay will be far more substantial.”
She couldn’t believe she was hearing this. She couldn’t believe this was all real. It felt like a dream. Here was the devil trying to buy her soul.
Was it love, she wondered? Was she in love with him? Why couldn’t she let go?
You got nothing else to live for. Fuck it.
“I would have to think about it. I mean I would really have to think about it.”
Andrew nodded.
“Just don’t make me wait too long,” he said, sliding hid hand over hers. We’ll be in touch?”
47… Date Night
Hope called Shane to apologize and left a voice message since he refused to answer. She sent him flowers and parked across the street from his work sight at lunch. He had the flowers in his hand, reading the little note asking for “another chance”. He looked up from the card and saw her standing outside of her car across the road, wearing a breezy dress, the wind blowing through her hair. He walked to her and half smiled.
“Guys don’t like flowers. What you trying to do here, get me killed?”
She took off her dark glasses so she could look in his eyes. She was wearing very little makeup and her eyes looked tired but there was a fire burning in them. He could tell she was honest. She was a little messed up probably, and her head seemed to be everywhere, but he’d never known a woman without issues.
“Will you let me make it up to you?”
Shane crossed his arms, flowers still in hand.
“How?”
“I have the night off. Let’s do something.”
He looked serious, maybe even angry, with sun sparkling in the silver of his irises. He was silent for seconds, squinting in the sun light. His eyelashes were so thick they seemed to shade his eyes.
“Let me take you out on a date,” he finally said.
She was elated to hear those words, something warm running down her insides.
“Everyone’s staring,” she said, looking over his shoulder at the yard. “Maybe I should take those,” she suggested, reaching for the flowers. Shane held them out of her reach.
“Let them stare. They’re gonna ask me if I’m getting any. What should I tell them?”
Hope laughed in the breeze. To Shane, she was absolutely beautiful. Her features ironed out and she stared at his feet.
“Tell them tonight may be your lucky night.”
He licked his lips and smiled.
“So you gonna pick me up?”
“I’ll swoop you up around seven.”
Her eyes ran up his body to his eyes. She looked from one to the other.
“I’ll see you tonight.”
Dominic could see them from where he sat eating his lunch. He watched her get into her car and drive away. Dominic dropped his organic sub in disgust. Shane turned around and crossed the street, walked back toward Dominic, half smiling, tossing up his chin. “What up?” He walked passed Dominic who wanted to slap that smirk off Shane’s face. In time, maybe he would.
Shane went to pick up Hope in his charcoal grey Maxima. When she opened her apartment door, he smiled all big. She was wearing a red sun dress with only a little makeup and her hair rested over her shoulder. She was wearing her gold necklace with the cross, and her sparkly little watch, glittery golden sandals on her feet. Shane kept glancing at her on the walk to his car. She looked so sweet.
He didn’t want to take her anywhere loud or infested with people. So he drove her out of town to the Cactus Patch. It was the first restaurant he dined in when he first came to Nevada. He told her to stay put and got off the car, walked to the passenger side and opened her door.
“Don’t worry,” he laughed when she took his hand and got out of the car. “I only do this on first dates.”
“How sweet,” she said sarcastically.
The Cactus Patch was made up of maple wood tables and benches and chairs. Yellow-orange and green lights lined the walls that were painted in desert-scheme. Shane and Hope were led to the end of the restaurant, secluded in a booth. The hostess handed them menus and took down their drink orders. Shane, in a black on top of a white shirt, some silver chain tucked in them, sat back and rubbed his ankle against hers.
She smiled but kept her eyes on the menu. The hostess came back with their drinks and memorized their orders in her head.
“Where you from?” he asked, slipping his straw through the surface of ice cubes in his glass. The straw bobbed so he had to hold it there and sip.
“Here.”
“You?”
“Toronto,” he said, staring into his glass, sipping soda up his straw.
“I knew it.”
“How?”
She smiled and crossed her arms over the tabletop.
“You say certain words funny.”
“You say them funny.” He looked at her in some sort of admiration and then smiled, his eyes all lush. His lids looked heavy and Hope smiled recognizing he was high.
“Where’s your fam?” he asked.
She hesitated for a moment but he kept his stare on her, making her feel stupid for not coming up with the answers fast enough. She explained she had no one. Her dad was roaming the world somewhere, her mom was an addicted drifter and her younger brother was in the military.
“How long you been on your own?”
She didn’t want to get into it because it embarrassed her. Maybe Shane would take a cue and shut his mouth. Nope. He probed; the exact thing most guys didn’t do with her. So Hope, a little surprised by it, shrugged her shoulder.
“When I was seventeen my mom left.”
“Where’d she go?”
“To live her life.” Hope sipped her drink.
She hadn’t talked to her in mom in like, over a year and she didn’t like talking to her much anyway because she was nonsensical. Nothing she said ever made sense because the alcohol drowned her logic.
“So what’d you do? How’d you take care of yourself?”
Hope looked serious and stayed quiet for a while. Their server brought their food. She unrolled her silverware from a cloth napkin and started eating.
“How’d you take care of yourself?” he repeated, filling his mouth with steaming rice.
She couldn’t believe he was still with that.
“We’ll talk about it another time.”