Chapter 30
It had been a long night at Club Eden, but a successful one, so no one was complaining, not even over the fact that the club had stayed open a few minutes past usual closing hours. After all the thousands of dollars those women had paid to spend time with the dancers, there would have been a riot up in that place had anyone even tried to ask them to leave.
Madam had to signal Dime to cut the music off. Of course, no more alcohol could be served, so eventually, with no music playing and no liquid courage flowing, the women got the hint and began to file out.
Dime was getting all of her equipment together. The guys were back in their regular clothes, talking and laughing as they finished picking up the place. Madam came out of her office trying to hide the huge smile on her face. Her hands were behind her back.
She stood in the middle of the club, looking like she had the biggest secret and she would explode if she didn't tell it.
“I have to thank you all,” Madam said. She was so overcome with joy that she had to pause. Swallowing the tears that threatened to start, she told them proudly, “Monday morning, I will personally drop off a check for the total amount of those back taxes, and we are free and clear.”
Everyone cheered, dapped, and high-fived one another. Amp was elated. He had been so busy entertaining the women all night that he hadn't kept count of the dollars Madam was taking in from the auction. He knew the patrons were spending wildly, so he knew they would at least come close, but close wasn't good enough when it came to paying the government. Truth be told, he'd been prepared to offer his personal funds if he had to, but now he was relieved to know that he wouldn't have to cough up a large chunk of his hard-earned money to help keep the club open.
“On top of that, we made eighteen thousand more than we needed,” Madam continued, “so I figured a two thousand dollar thank you to each of you should cover it. That sound about right?” She whipped the envelopes full of money from behind her back.
Now that was an added bonus the men hadn't seen coming but very much appreciated. Amp was especially grateful, considering he was about to be paying rent and furnishing an apartment.
Casanova was looking up and counting on his fingers when he said, “Actually, eighteen thousand divided byâ”
“Cass!” Amp cut him off.
“I was just playing.” Casanova laughed.
Madam shot Cass a look and pretended to try to take his envelope back. Everyone's mood was jubilant as they celebrated the victory brought about by their hard work.
Just as Madam had turned to head back into her office, a voice stopped her.
“So maybe I don't know how to bow out gracefully after all.”
She couldn't even fight off the huge grin that spread across her face. She turned around only to be standing mere feet from the man who had a grip on her heart.
Madam slowly walked over to Marcus until they were nose to nose. “Maybe that just means the show isn't really over,” she said in a whisper.
“Or maybe we just need an encore,” Marcus said in a deep, succulent voice.
“Maybe,” Madam agreed with Marcus.
Amp raised an eyebrow. This was the first time he had seen her be vulnerable and let her guard down for a man. She had taught him so much about life and business, but in this moment, she was teaching him how to let go and love. He definitely made a mental note and quietly exited the room with the other fellas so these two reunited love birds could have time alone.
Amp only had about ten minutes before curfew. Even though this was his last night at the halfway house before moving into his apartment in the morning, he didn't want to disrespect Paul's rules by coming in after three. With it being so close to curfew, he gladly accepted a ride home from Dime.
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The next morning, Amp was almost finished packing up his duffle bag. Paul came to his bedroom door.
“It's the big day. You ready?” Paul asked.
“Yes,” Amp replied. He looked around the room. “When I first got here, I was afraid I was going to mess up again.” Amp had to admit that he'd been tempted several times to talk to Jesse and get put on. Now he was proud of himself for not going that route. Fast, easy money could have definitely led to slow, hard time. He looked at Paul. “I'm not anymore.”
“That's good to hear.”
“What about you? You ever gonna get outta here and live a little bit?”
Paul thought for a second and shrugged. “Yeah.” He cracked a slight smile. “Why not?”
Amp nodded, glad to hear Paul wasn't going to spend the rest of his days closed up in that halfway house with headphones on, listening to blues records. He chuckled inside at that thought.
“Thank you for everything,” Amp told Paul.
Amp zipped up his duffle bag and headed out of the room. Paul saw the shoebox with old pictures and newspaper clippings in it in the corner of the room.
“You forgot a box,” Paul said.
Amp stopped and looked back at the shoebox. “No, I didn't. I'm not dragging that stuff around with me anymore. This is a new start. I'm going to make some new memories. Take some new pictures.” He turned to leave. “I'll be in touch.”
Amp walked out of the room, down the stairs, and out the door, where Dime was waiting for him in the driveway. Amp put his bags in the trunk of Dime's car and slammed it closed, then walked over to Dime, who was leaning against the car with a smile on her face. Amp grabbed her arm and pulled her close. Reaching up to hold her face, Amp looked deep into her eyes. Their lips were almost touching. They had both wanted this for way too long.
Then, it happened. Amp pressed his lips softly against hers. She exhaled as he breathed in her kiss. It was the sweetest kiss he'd ever had, the best thing he had ever tasted, and for just a second, the earth stopped spinning.
Amp slowly pulled away, remembering that they were in front of the halfway house and knowing that there would be thousands of those to come.
Slightly dazed, Dime shook it off and they got in the car.
“All set?” Dime asked as she shifted the gear into reverse.
Amp nodded, still staring at the bedroom window. “Yep.”
Dime backed out of the driveway and drove away.
Just like when he left the prison, Amp was tempted to look back.
Maybe a quick peek in the rearview mirror
, he thought but then decided against it. He remembered something that old convict Martell had told him in prison:
“You ever wonder why the rearview mirror in a car is so much smaller than the front windshield?” Martell had asked Amp.
“No, I never thought about it.”
“It's because the things behind you, the things you've already made it through, are nowhere near as important as the things that lay ahead. Stop looking back and live, young blood.”
Those had been some of the realest words Amp had ever heard. Martell was right. It was time to let the past go and start building a new future.
Who knows
, Amp thought while looking at Dime out of the corner of his eye.
She may be a part of that future.
“Thanks again,” Amp said to Dime.
“Don't thank me. You're gonna work this off.”
Amp turned to her, looking confused. “What?”
“Yep. Gas money, a lap dance . . . something.”
“Okay. You better stop and get some money. I don't work for singles. I have standards.”
Dime smiled. “Okay, Mr. Standards. And I meant to ask, how you gonna call yourself
Black
Magic and you're beige?”
Amp looked down at his arms. They both burst out laughing as she drove Amp down the street toward the start of his new life.
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The End . . . or the Beginning?