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“Your parents don’t know you work here, do they?” Quentin crows.
Would I go to jail if I suddenly put my five-inch stiletto heel through his foot? I wonder.Bad girl, I chide myself,use honey, not vinegar like Mom always says.
“They don’t, it’s not exactly something to discuss over Sunday Brunch.”
“So if we don’t tell them we know, you won’t tell them or Holly you saw us here?” Joe suggests giving me the perfect opportunity to detangle my worlds.
“Tell them what? I haven’t seen you since last Thanksgiving,” I say.
“Great, Holly would likely kick me to the curb if she knew I was here,” he says his relief evident in every syllable.
Things are looking better, I think, until Quentin opens his big mouth.
“Care to give us a free dance?” he asks, and my gag reflex suddenly finds new life.
“Not in this lifetime. Besides I know your motherandJenna’s would be happy to find out how…imaginative you are,” I threaten. The only thing worse than my working here would be Jenna, the pastor’s daughter and Quentin’s girlfriend and soon-to-be fiancée finding out he was here.
“Well played,” he tells me.
I roll my eyes since he can’t really see them in the dark and tell them, “Look why don’t we all go our separate ways? There’s another club about five blocks down if you’re determined but if you want my advice Joe, go home, ditch Quentin, and marry Holly.”
“Thanks,” he says shooting a glance at Quentin, who acts like he wants to say something rude, but he turns, and they walk away.
Bullet dodged, I smile, but it’s time to stop it. This time worked out well, but I might not be so lucky the next. Going back inside and telling Sam that I’m leaving, well that’s not as easy.
“You’re what?” she says.
“I’m quitting. I’ve got a job interview in New York next week for a sister company and I want it so badly,” I tell her being completely honest. “Jasmine will be great in my position. Sam…we both knew this day would come,” I add as her face still reflects hurt that I hate.
“I know,” she admits. “I guess I was just hoping to delay it. Ame, you’re my best gal but you’ve got to follow your dreams and waitressing isn’t it.”
“Thanks Sam,” I tell her with a smile.
“Now get your ass back on the floor. Just because you’re leaving doesn’t mean you can skip out on your shift,” she adds in classic Sam fashion.
The next couple days fly by and Tuesday night finally arrives, my last night at the club, which is surprisingly dark when I show up to get dressed for my shift. The girls aren’t hovering around spreading the latest gossip and the lights for the stage aren’t shining in the mirror.
I walk out to the floor and my jaw drops.
“SURPRISE!” shouts an entire room full of people, club regulars, dancers—current and ex including Cookie, and bus boys, bartenders and bouncers.
“We couldn’t have you leaving us without a proper send off,” Sam states making me laugh. “A round on the house to toast our Ame. If you ever decide New York isn’t the place for you you’ll always have a home here.”
“Here, here,” the male patrons shout and I find myself oddly sad that it’s my last time on the floor.
“Never say never is my motto—well except when it come to a stage and a pole,” I tell them. “So, I promise if I ever find myself completely broke and in need of a job, I know precisely where I’ll head.”
“The local Walmart?” Tony the bartender jokes.
“No, no, no, my dear, dear foolish boy, ‘Tarjay’. Say it with me,” I tease, “Tar-jay.”
The room laughs and the club goes back to normal, well normal with the addition of several extra dancers and waitresses sitting around which only makes the men hornier. Funny how many of them are married with kids. Their wives think they’re working late but here they sit watching women take their clothes off ordering water-downed drinks from girls in barely there skirts and tops. At least I now know that if I ever get married, which would mean I have to date first, I know what to watch for to keep him at home.
“Goodnight Sam,” I tell her after counting my tips. For a Tuesday night, they’re fabulous but I gather that has more to do with the fact that it was my last night over the superb service I provided.
“Bye Ame,” she says her eyes just a bit misty. “Now if you find yourself short of cash in New York you need to go to Vivian’s Caged Birds Club and tell Maura I sent you. Got it?”
“I love you too Sam,” I tell her knowing she’d never admit it.
