Chapter Thirty-Three
Serenity
Sunday night, I’m home with Dad. I’ve made us both an early dinner, which we eat in front of the TV. We’ve agreed that we’ll watch the game. Kick-off is eight-twenty. It’s the first home game of the season that I won’t have been part of the CMC squad.
Just past seven, I hear a car outside. Opening the front door, I watch as an enormous black Escalade pulls up in our driveway. Jewel gets out, slams the door closed and practically swaggers up the steps.
‘What are you doing here?’ I manage in my surprise. ‘Is that a new car?’
She glances over her shoulder, back at the vehicle. ‘Belongs to Lemon Conway,’ she says with a casual shrug.
I blink. ‘Lemon Conway? The hell?’
‘You know one thing that I’ve learned this week, Ren?
That every single person who works at the Danube is afraid of Samantha Conway.
No surprises there, I guess. They all despise her too.
But, all the staffers, the grounds people, the security men and women, the coaches, the guys who make the coffee in the booths and the people who sell beer on game days, they all love Lemon.
Yes, sir. They love Lemon because she’s nothing like her mother.
Lemon Conway has more power in her little finger than her mother and brother put together.
And she’s got business smarts that nobody ever gave her any credit for. Including all of us CMC.’
I stare at her, aghast. Jewel takes both my hands in hers and gives them a squeeze. ‘We couldn’t not have you be there tonight,’ she says.
Dad gives me his blessing when I tell him I’m heading to the Danube for Sunday night football.
‘How are you getting in if you don’t have a ticket?’
‘Apparently Lemon Conway’s got it all figured out,’ I murmur, in disbelief.
‘Does that mean I can watch baseball now?’
I kiss his forehead. ‘Yes, Daddy, it does.’
‘Have fun, sweetheart,’ he says.
It takes me a few minutes to change clothes, get organized and put on a little makeup. I grab my leather jacket on the way out. When I climb into the vehicle, there’s a branded Mutineers cap on the seat. ‘Put it on,’ Jewel says as she grins at me. ‘All part of Lemon’s plan.’
‘She can seriously get us in?’
‘She came to us. Offered her help. At first, we didn’t know what to believe, but Jake’s straightened everything out. He came to see us all at practice. She’s on our side. Or should I say yours and Jake’s side.’
‘I don’t believe it.’
She reaches out and squeezes my hand. ‘Believe it. Tonight, every single squad member has your back.’
I swallow down the lump in my throat. I’m nervous, but excited to see how tonight pans out. Jewel starts the engine and backs out of the driveway.
‘And you promise you’re cool with me seeing him?’ I ask her.
‘Honey, the way he talks about you… man, I just hope I get to meet a guy like that one day. And I am cool as a refrigerator about it.’
I grin at her.
‘Will you stay with me?’ I ask her.
‘Don’t worry. We called in some recruits. My job is to stay with you.’
I think I can guess what she might be referring to. My heart beats faster at the thought.
We cross town quickly, but traffic builds up outside the stadium.
When we’re close, Jewel makes a phone call, then slides into the VIP lane like it’s nothing at all.
When she pulls out outside the Danube south VIP entrance, a valet is already waiting to take the car.
I get out, pull my cap down further around my ears and glance from left to right.
‘Being here feels wrong,’ I say under my breath to Jewel. ‘Samantha Conway made it very clear I wouldn’t be welcomed back here again.’
Jewel flashes me a grin before I hear a woman shriek, ‘Well, there she is!’
I raise my eyes to find a bubbly-looking blonde standing in the doorway. She’s wearing bright red lipstick that matches her shoes.
‘I’m so excited to meet you properly, Serenity. I’m Lemon.’
‘Hi, Lemon,’ I say, as she gives me a firm handshake.
‘We all good?’ Jewel asks.
‘Hold up just one second,’ Lemon says, as a security guard hands her two lanyards with several passes hanging from them. She puts them over each of our heads, like a medal presentation. I glance down at the lettering that reads ‘All Access’, and I’m astounded.
‘Okay, now we’re good,’ Lemon says. ‘This here is Bobby. He’s gonna take you to the sideline, near the tunnel, which should give you a great view of the field. My momma’s upstairs still.’
‘Everything still going to plan?’ Jewel asks her.
Lemon looks thrilled. ‘Carlie’s got everything teed up. CMC is all set to shake the Danube to its very foundations.’
Jake told me that Lemon has resumed her relationship with Carlie Kessler, much to her mother’s horror. ‘Thank you,’ I whisper to Lemon, before Jewel ushers me away.
In the next tunnel, following Bobby from security, I can hear the crowd above our heads.
‘I need to know…’ I say, with Jewel holding my hand. ‘Am I gonna get everybody else fired?’
Jewel looks back at me, the same over-confident smile plastered on her lips. ‘Safety in numbers, sweetie. Safety in numbers.’
‘Are you sure about that?’ I ask, the nerves creeping up the inside of my throat.
When we come out, we’re pitch side, under the floodlights at the west end, facing the twenty-yard line. To our left is the entrance to the tunnel from which the CMC and all the players emerge. The Danube is packed to the rafters with fans and spectators.
Jewel and I take in the scene. ‘Maybe keep the hat on,’ she says, the smile on her face evaporating, having witnessed the size of the crowd, the TV cameras, and the fact that people’s faces are being displayed on the jumbotrons at each end of the stadium.
I check the time. It’s a little before eight. There’s a smell of beer and popcorn in the air. It’s about now that the CMC gets announced onto the field.
‘Are y’alright?’ Jewel asks me.
I don’t know exactly what my squad mates are about to do. I know the gist, but I’m yet to see the routine that they’ve been secretly rehearsing all week.
‘Is it very different?’ I ask Jewel.
‘A little different,’ she says with a wink. ‘I wouldn’t call it family friendly either.’
As if right on cue, the announcer comes over the Danube’s sound system. My whole body tenses, my hands going to a prayer position against my lips when the CMC are introduced. The crowd cheers wildly and the lights flash for one of the highlights of the show.
They’re wearing their uniform, as anticipated, as Harmony leads the squad onto the field to the sound of Girls Girls Girls. I do a quick headcount. In terms of numbers, they’re four down. Jewel and I are missing, as are Persia and Mona. Other than that, everything is as it should be.
‘How did you get outta performing?’ I ask Jewel as we applaud their entry.
Jewel puts two fingers in her mouth and whistles. ‘Called Kathleen this morning, told her I was puking my guts up.’
We both duck our heads as Kathleen emerges from the tunnel and stalks in a power walk parallel to the sideline just below us, miked up with her head piece and wearing a powder blue pant suit. It means Samantha Conway won’t be far behind.
A few bars into Girls Girls Girls and, from the speakers around the stadium, there sounds out a scratch effect. The sound system falls silent. I see Kathleen’s head snap up, and she’s straight onto her mic with a furrowed brow. A ripple goes through the crowd.
Before I know it, a new tune starts up. And seemingly, the entire squad on the field knows exactly what to do. It’s a moment before I recognize which song is playing.
‘Jake asked if he could pick out the tune, all personal,’ Jewel says to me with a grin. ‘You’re gonna have to tell us the meaning behind it.’
A smile dances across my lips. He’s chosen Bonnie Tyler’s Holding Out for a Hero, and it makes my heart sing.
I hold my breath. On the field, I can see Harmony, Ashlyn, Angel, Shawny, Tori, Leona, Solana, Lacey, Imara…
the entire squad. Armed with both their poms their movements are perfectly in sync, nothing less than I would expect.
The navy and white ‘M’ symbols on their shirts pop under the floodlights.
The routine is upbeat and sassy. Jewel wiggles her hips in time with the beat. I glance further down the sideline at Kathleen. There’s a panicked look on her face. It’s clear this is not the routine she was expecting.
After less than a minute, on the pitch, something shifts.
All in unison, and in time with the chorus and the bang of the drums, each CMC squad member removes her shirt.
My mouth falls open. Underneath, they’re all in matching bikini tops, emblazoned with the same ‘M’ from our uniform, one on each breast.
I look at Jewel. ‘What the hell?’ I shriek.
‘Customized bikinis, baby!’ she squeals gleefully. ‘Just wait,’ she then says, raising her voice over the music.
I look back to Kathleen. She’s furious, yelling at a security guard something crazy, jabbing her finger toward the field.
When the CMC hot pants come off, to reveal bikini bottoms underneath, I swear she blanches.
The arches of the ‘M’ are literally emblazoned across their pert ass cheeks.
In bikinis and boots, each girl is grinding her pussy into the ground.
It’s a classic Surly’s move. And one that I didn’t even teach them.
Halfway through the song, at the instrumental, a group of grounds people run onto the field, each of them holding what looks like a rustic, open back chair, which he or she plants directly in front of a CMC squad member.
Two large black boxes are wheeled onto the field, which I’ve seen before when there are performances.
When the boxes are opened, two more women burst out in bikinis and join the routine.
‘Oh my god!’ I blurt. ‘Persia and Mona? But how…?’
‘What’d I tell you?’ Jewel says. ‘Lemon Conway has all the power around here. Just nobody knows it! And she was only too happy to oblige. She got all the grounds people on board too!’
I cradle my face. Each girl is straddling her own chair, just like my routine at Surly’s, which, on the field, has turned a little X-rated.
Jewel leans closer to my ear, shouting over the din. ‘So, a few of us girls may have visited Surly’s Tuesday night. You know… for inspiration. The ladies there were good enough to show us some of your signature moves. They really miss you there!’
I shake my head and grin, still in disbelief at what I’m seeing and hearing. I look around me. The crowd seems to be enjoying the show, although some of the mothers are covering the younger kids’ eyes.
Kathleen is now apoplectic, still hollering at the buff security guard in black, who is doing precisely zip about the scene unfolding in front of the entire Danube crowd, his thick arms crossed over his chest. His colleagues aren’t moving.
I’m dumbfounded. I can’t believe my eyes. The routine that follows could make even the most skilled stripper blush.
That’s when I see her, racing down the field toward the fifty-yard line. Her pink cheeks contrasting with bright red lips, uncharacteristic frown lines deep as a crevasse, and she’s running as fast as her three-inch pencil heels will carry her.
Sam Conway.
‘Here comes trouble,’ Jewel says with a grin. ‘You think Hank Conway couldn’t be bothered to show tonight?’
‘Hank Conway might be having a heart attack right about now,’ I murmur, watching Ms Conway’s arms flap in the air as she hollers at the top of her voice toward the security personnel, who are still outright refusing to do anything other than stand there.
When the CMC routine ends, there is applause from all sides. The crowd goes wild.
‘They don’t get that it’s a protest,’ Jewel raises her voice to me.
I look at Ms Conway. She’s so angry she’s practically baring her teeth. ‘I’m not sure they need to,’ I say.
I look at the tunnel to my left. The players should be making an entrance by now, but there’s nothing. I know Jake is back there. And I know what he’s about to do for me could cost him his entire career.