Page 3 of Anthem of Love and Loathing

Gary catches me loitering in the entry. His gaze narrows and he makes a walking gesture with his fingers.

He’s going to tell me I can’t come back if I don’t get my ass in there. Then what? I spend the next however many months hunting for whatever menial job will hire me? The need for shelter and food is more immediate than that.

A deep breath as I twist the handle and step inside the darkened room. Strips of neon lighting provide an ambient glow.

There’s a dais with a pole on one side of the room. A sound system that is already pumping music into the soundproofed room when I shut the door. Whiskey in a bottle sits on the low table in front of the leather couches.

Two glasses have been filled with ice and amber liquid.

A solitary man is relaxing on one of the couches. Legs spread and bent at the knees, his gaze follows me as I strut toward him. He wears a rumpled suit; his tie loosened around his throat and the button on his shirt collar undone.

“What’s your name, darling?” he slurs.

“Cherry.” I give him the stripper name I chose. No other details, nothing too personal. A name born from the lipstick color I wore in my old life.

“Cherry.” He stretches out his hand and curls his fingers. “Come show me what Gary has for me tonight.”

Acid stings the back of my throat. When I choose my own clients, I have some say in what kind of people they are. This man gives me the ick.

Heaven has the right idea working with couples. They are a safer bet than a friend of Gary’s who has obviously been drinking for a while if the way he speaks is any indication. Still, I tack on a flirty smile and prowl toward him. “It’s lovely to meet a friend of the boss. Can you tell me your name?”

“Loverboi.” He smiles and bares his crooked teeth. He grabs my hand now that I’m near and drags me closer.

His breath smells like whiskey. It’s potent. He ogles my body like he’s inspecting it.

It’s disconcerting and makes me want to snatch my hand away and leave the room. But he’s paying for my time, and to have me dance. I can’t do that without Gary taking it as me quitting. And I don’t quit. And even if I was a quitter, I can’t afford to.

“Can I sit next to you, Loverboi? Or perhaps you’d let me sit on your lap?” I pour sweetness and sugar into every word. I need to be professional. I can’t have him telling Gary he didn’t have a good time.

He sits back and pats his knee. “Take a seat, Cherry.”

I step between his legs and lower onto his lap.

“Pass me my drink,” he orders.

Picking up the whiskey, I hand him the glass. “Could you buy me a drink, Loverboi? I’d like to talk and get to know you a bit better.” I’d like some liquid courage in my veins tonight. This room is isolating. That alone is enough to make me wary.

He hands me the other glass. “Already taken care of.”

The spirit heats my throat and belly as I swallow it, softening the uneasiness. His cologne doesn’t quite hide his body odor, but he keeps his hands to himself while we make small talk that mostly consists of me flattering him.

Perhaps Loverboi isn’t as big and bad and shady as he seemed at first. It’s only because Gary ordered me in here that I’ve been on edge.

I finish the dribble of whiskey in the bottom of my glass before stealing a piece of ice from the tumbler. Placing the glass on the table, I run that ice cold chip across the top of my chest as I start to move. “Would you like me to dance for you, Loverboi?”

“I’ve been waiting all night, Cherry.”

Maybe Gary was just trying to creep me out with all the talk before? This probably isn’t going to be as bad as he wanted me to believe. The whiskey has kicked in and is helping me loosen up. I get into the seductive moves that have me eventually grinding over his lap. Loverboi is just like any other client wanting a fantasy, and his fantasy will provide me with a paycheck.

Just as I’m getting mentally adjusted and more comfortable with the dance, Loverboi grabs my hip yanking me down on his lap. He is hard underneath me. As expected. I don’t want any part in this.

“Uh-uh.” I attempt to keep my voice sweet while also authoritative as I remove his hand. “Loverboi, remember the rules.”

He coils his arm around my waist, pinning me to his crotch. Then uses his other arm to reinforce his hold. “You’re too tempting, Cherry.”

A little frantically, but pretending not to be, I struggle against the grip he has on me. Staring him down, I muster every bit of authority I can into my voice, “You need to let me go.”

The door to the outside room cracks and light spills in.