CHAPTER SEVEN
Heather—
Holding Tucker’s hand in mine, I head toward the door of Sonny’s Gentlemen’s Club. It’s early morning, and the place isn’t open, but there are a couple of cars parked to the side of the lot.
I tap on the glass and hear faint music coming from inside.
It takes a few more minutes of tapping before someone comes to the door.
It’s a large man. His eyes drag down me, then skate to Tucker. He throws the lock and opens the door, scoping the parking lot.
“What do you need, darlin’? You lookin’ for work?”
I did my hair and makeup to make a good impression. “Yes. Are you hiring?”
“Have you danced before?”
“Yes.”
“Where?”
“Cowboy’s in Huntsville, Alabama.”
“Alabama, huh? You’re a long way from home.” His eyes shift to Tucker again. “You got someone to take care of your son when you work?”
“Not at the moment, but if I get a job and know my hours, I can hire someone.”
He blows out a breath, then steps aside. “Come on in. You can talk to Ronny. He’s in the office.” He locks the door behind us and leads us to the bar where a pretty blonde is stocking bottles. “Darla, honey, could you get the kid an orange juice while I take his mom to see Ronnie?”
She turns and takes us in, then gives Tucker a big smile. “Sure, Tiny. Climb on up on a barstool, handsome.” She sets a glass on the counter and fills it with juice, then leans closer to him. “What’s your name, cutie?”
Tucker looks at me, and I nod. “It’s okay.”
“Tucker,” he whispers.
“Well, Tucker. Do you like pretzels?”
He nods, and she winks at me. “He’ll be fine. I’ll look after him.”
I glance back as Tiny leads me down the hall. Darla sets a bowl of pretzels in front of my son and ruffles his hair.
We stop at the end of the hall, and Tiny taps on the door.
“Yeah?” a voice replies.
Tiny pokes his head in. “This lady is lookin’ for work. Said she’s danced before. You want to talk to her?”
“Sure.”
Tiny steps back, and I enter the small office. The man behind the desk has silver hair that comes to his collar. He’s wearing a western-style shirt and a turquoise conch on a braided leather cord around his neck. More turquoise rings rest on his fingers.
His eyes drag down my body. “Where have you danced?”
I tell him.
“You any good?”
“I made a good living, yes.”
He tilts his head. “Why’d you leave the club you were at?”
I glance at the chair. “May I sit?”
“Sure. Sorry. Of course. Sit down.”
Gathering myself, I take a breath. “The truth is, there was a customer who got obsessed with me. He was in a biker club and decided I belonged to him. He told me he was taking me to Texas. I knew what that meant; he’d want me to give him all my money and dance where he told me to.
I wanted no part of that, so I took my son and fled. ”
The man leans back in his chair. “So, this ex-boyfriend gonna show up here?”
“He has no way of knowing I came to California.”
“You gonna be trouble?” He strokes his mouth, studying me.
“No, sir. I won’t be any trouble.”
“What’s your name?”
“Heather.”
“That the name you danced under?”
“At Cowboys I was Stardust, but I don’t think I should use that name here. Just in case.”
“You look like a Ginger to me.”
I nod, hoping that means I’ve got the job.
“There’s just one other thing.”
“Yes?”
“This place is owned by the Evil Dead MC. If you’ve got a problem with bikers, this might not be the club for you.”
My heart stops, and all I can think about is Cody, Jared’s army buddy. “How do they treat the dancers?”
“They won’t mess with you. They come in and pick up the club’s earnings.
They come around if there’s trouble. Occasionally, they stop in for a drink and some entertainment.
What they won’t do is take more than what they pay for your stage time.
The DJ gets a cut of your tips, so does the house, but if you’re good, you’ll make a killing. ”
“Then I won’t have an issue with them.”
He studies me.
“I just need a chance. Please.”
“Come back at 4pm. I’ll let you open happy hour with one dance. If you’re good, I’ve got a Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday slot. Prove yourself, and I might move you to the big money nights.”
“Yes, sir. Thank you.”
“Ronnie. None of that sir shit here.”
“Yes, sir. Sorry. Ronnie.”
He grins. “I like your southern accent, though. Customers will, too. You got any costumes, or did you leave all that behind when you fled?”
“I had to leave everything.”
“Marnie might be able to find you something. Come on.” He walks me out and down to another office. A woman is working on a computer and barely looks up when we walk in. Everything about her is over the top. She reminds me of Dolly Parton.
“Ronnie, I’ve got no one for Thursday night. Bev is sick with the flu, and Carly is, too.”
“Then Heather here might be the answer,” Ronnie says.
Marnie swivels and looks me over. “Well, aren’t you a looker? You hire her, Ronnie?”
“Not yet. She’s gonna come back at 4pm and do a spot. Then I’ll decide. But she has no costumes.”
“Why not?” She frowns, and her gaze shifts from him to me.
“I had to leave Alabama in a hurry,” I reply, then stick my hand out. “Heather.”
She stares at it, then shakes it. “Don’t usually get manners like that around here.” She stands and moves toward the door. “Come on, honey. Let’s find you something to wear on stage.”
I follow in her wake of perfume.
We cross the hall to the dressing room with its long, lighted mirror against the left wall. She crosses to a set of lockers and opens one, then flips through some garments. She pulls one out and holds it up. “Will this do?”
It’s a sexy schoolgirl outfit. Well, pieces of one.
She shoves it at me and pushes me onto a bench. “Try it on. I’ll leave you to it, honey. I’ve got paperwork to do. Stop back at my office before you leave.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Call me Marnie. Ma’am just makes me feel old.”
“Yes, ma’am. I mean Marnie.”
She chuckles and walks out. I look at the garment.
There’s an itsy bitsy pleated gray skirt that I’m sure won’t cover my ass, a stiff collar with an attached tie, and a vest that isn’t big enough to come together in the front.
My tits will be on display from the moment I take the stage.
Not that I’m shy. I lost that a long time ago.
I slip it on and look in the mirror. The old schoolgirl routine. I used it when I first started in the business. It’s especially good for lap dances, and it used to make me a ton of money. Hopefully, it’ll be lucky for me tonight.
Changing out of it, I put it back on the hanger and return it to the locker, then go across the hall.
Marnie is tapping on her keyboard.
“Hey, the outfit is fine,” I say, and she turns.
“Good. I would wish you good luck tonight, but I have a feeling you aren’t going to need it.”
“Thanks.”
“If Ronnie hires you, and assuming he does, I’m the one you’ll be dealing with. I’m the club mother, so to speak.”
“Yes, we had one of those at Cowboys.”
“Did you get along with her?”
“To be honest, she was a bitch.”
“Well, I can be one, too, but I’d rather we all get along. Anything I need to know about you?”
“I have a son. He’s turning five in a few months.”
She leans in her chair and cocks her head. “You know anybody in California? Family or friends?”
I shake my head.
“You runnin’ from something?”
“A man. A customer who got possessive and violent.”
She frowns. “And the club you worked at didn’t do anything to help you?”
I shake my head.
“That won’t happen here. The boys take care of us, and they don’t take any crap from customers.” She narrows her eyes. “Ronnie tell you who owns the place?”
“Yes, ma’am. I mean, Marnie.”
“You cool with that?”
I nod.
“What about the kid’s father? He in the picture?”
“I’m a widow.”
“Sorry about that. What do you plan to do with your kid when you’re dancing?”
“I haven’t figured that out yet. If I get the job, I’ll need to hire someone.”
“I may be able to help you out. We’ll talk after Ronnie makes his decision.”
“Thank you.”
“See ya, honey.”
I walk down the hall and find Tucker laughing with the bartender.
“Tucker, thank the lady. We have to go now.”
“Thanks, Darla.”
“Anytime, honey.” Darla looks at me and holds her hand out. “And you are?”
I shake it. “Heather, but if I get the job, Ronnie said I looked like a Ginger.”
She rolls her eyes. “Ronnie’s not very original when it comes to names.”
Holding up a lock of my pale red hair, I grin. “Guess not.”
“He giving you a shot?”
“I’m dancing at 4pm. Then he’ll decide.”
She nods. “You got someone to watch the kid?”
“No.” My eyes glaze.
“Hey, you seem like a good person. You got a great kid, and that’s always the proof. I don’t usually do this, but… let me see if my sister is available. You good with that?”
“How old is she?”
“Sixteen. She’s a good kid. Straight-A student.”
“I could pay her. But where would she watch him? I’m in a motel right now.”
“She could watch him at my apartment. It’s only two blocks from here.”
I hesitate. “I don’t usually let strangers alone with my son, but I’m in a bind.”
“Maybe she could watch him in Marnie’s office, but you’d have to clear it with her. Not sure she’s gonna want him walkin’ in the place once we’re open.”
“Right.”
“So?”
“Okay. If you could check with your sister, that would be great.”
“Let me give her a call.” She pulls out her cell and walks to the end of the bar.
I ruffle Tucker’s hair and lean and kiss the top of his head.
“She said she’ll do it for thirty bucks.” Darla grins, returning. “She’s saving up for a prom dress. I told her to be up here at 3:30pm and then you can follow her to my apartment and check it out.” Darla’s eyes shift to Tucker. “Then you can play with Duke.”
Tucker gives her a big grin. “Really?”
“Yep.”
“Who’s Duke?” I ask.
“My German Sheppard puppy,” she replies.
“Thank you so much. I’ll be back later.” I turn Tucker toward the door. “You want to go get a hamburger, kiddo?”