Chapter 7 #2
Are a man’s legs really designed to stretch that wide? I wince when his twirl finishes, and he ends up on the ground doing the splits. I resist the urge to cover my crotch in sympathy. But he just gets up grinning.
I approach. When he sees me, he lifts his hand.
“We should think about a ladies’ night with you as the main attraction,” I tease him. “I can picture it now, you, latex tights, and only wearing your cut. The women would flood in.”
“Fuck off. It’s a good workout. You’re just jealous of my muscles.”
“Ain’t jealous of anything.” I take a moment to flex mine. They’re more impressive than his any day. “You ready to talk me through the books now?”
Sliding his boots onto his feet, he stands and gestures the way toward the office. “After you.”
Once there, one of the staff brings us both coffees, then we get down to business. Stalker, as the money man, will produce the headlines when we meet for our weekly church, but here we often brainstorm the details.
The strip club, it seems, is doing okay, not spectacularly, but holding its head above water. Profit isn’t a major concern. It’s a front for our money laundering. But I always like knowing we’re making the most of any of our assets.
Stalker chews the end of a pencil. Fuck knows why, we use a tablet to keep track. “You know, you made a good point. A ladies’ night would go down well. But I’d have to find some male dancers who don’t mind getting naked.”
“Will you be putting yourself out there?” I grin.
“Fuck off.” His face tightens, then relaxes again as he adds, “But there might be a troop willing to come here. I’ll start asking around.”
“Same deal we currently offer?”
His eyes sparkle. “Can’t see many men turning that down.”
Unlike more reputable establishments, we turn a blind eye if a stripper wants to earn a little more on the side.
What goes on in the private rooms is their business, and full-on penetration is allowed – as long as it’s acceptable to both parties, of course, and with full consent of the girl.
And we only take a small percentage of their earnings.
In return, we’re on hand if there are any problems. It’s a win-win situation all around.
It’s not expected. If a stripper wants to offer nothing more than a lap dance – or not even that – then that’s as far as it will go. And she’ll have Kings close by and monitoring, to make sure no one crosses the line.
We continue talking revenue for a while, then Stalker and I do a walkaround, looking at where the décor looks most tired, and assessing whether it’s worth tidying up.
When Stalker leaves to get back to cooking the books, or whatever he does, I take a moment to admire the athleticism of some of the girls on stage, before glancing at my phone and realising I’ve spent far more time here than I’d thought.
It’s almost time to go meet Ace and his aunt.
There aren’t many good eating places in our small town, but there is one good restaurant, and that’s where I’m headed tonight.
Ace chose it, probably wanting to impress Toni.
Sure, it was going to put a hole in my wallet, but I didn’t want to disappoint my son.
He’s actually a good kid and rarely asks for anything.
All in all, once I learned his peculiarities, life’s been good with Ace.
It had certainly gotten easier once he could understand his own thought processes and issues, and learned how to cope with them.
For the first few years, it had been difficult, him not being able to express himself, and me feeling I was wading through treacle, trying to navigate an alien world.
Yeah, he’s a good kid, and I don’t mind indulging him once in a while.
After picking Ace up from Ma’s, we ride to the restaurant.
As luck would have it, I end up pulling into the parking lot at the same time as Toni, driving her rental in.
After waving at each other, I park my bike, let Ace off, and we wait for her to exit the car.
All three of us walk to the front door together.
“Good evening, sirs, ma’am. Have you got a booking?”
“Yeah, in the name of Moore.”
“Come this way, please. Your server tonight will be Sally.”
It comes naturally to put my hand to the small of Toni’s back as we’re led over to a table. It’s a corner one as I requested. When she goes to take a seat at the rear, Ace stops her.
“Dad likes to sit with his back to the wall so he can check out everyone coming in.”
She looks at me sharply. “Expecting trouble?”
“Old habit,” I explain, pulling the chair out for her, and waiting until she’s in position to push it back in. I might be a biker, but I’ve got manners.
As I go to the seat behind the table, Ace tells her gleefully, “Dad was Special Forces.” Oh shit, kid. Way to keep things on the down low.
Her brows rise, and her eyes flash with interest. “What kind?”
Ace answers, “The kind where he’d have to kill you if you ever found out about any of his missions.”
A corner of her mouth rises, presumably thinking Ace is exaggerating. “Top secret?”
I shrug without confirming it. Truth is, I’m still bound and will be for life to keep any deployments I was on, or even those I just knew about quiet.
Even years later, Uncle Sam could get into a heap of shit if it came out that his Army officers had gone where they’d had no right being. The less said about it, the better.
I take a menu and hand it to her. “Is there anything you particularly fancy?”
She fiddles in her purse and comes up with a pair of glasses, and perches them on her nose before casting her eyes over what’s on offer.
And fuck me, my dick perks up and takes notice.
That’s my librarian fantasy right there.
It’s on my lips to ask her whether she wears them in bed, but luckily, that thought stays in my head.
Ace is frowning. The menu is quite fancy.
He’s moved on from the restrictive, self-imposed diet he’d stuck to when he was a kid, but still isn’t keen on trying new foods.
I don’t point out that it was his suggestion that we come here tonight.
Instead, I peruse my own menu and find something that doesn’t come with all the bells and whistles, which I know he wouldn’t appreciate.
“They do steak,” I tell him. “You could have that with fries.”
He grins and nods enthusiastically.
Toni looks up. “I think I’ll try the Chicken Madeira. Do you know if it’s good?”
“Never had it,” I admit. “But this place has an excellent reputation, so I doubt you’ll go wrong with whatever you choose.”
As I see a woman, who I assume is Sally, hurriedly approaching our table, I make my choice.
Having glanced down at the list of fancy items which I don’t think would begin to fill the stomach of a large man like myself, I settle for the same as my son.
Their biggest steak, cooked rare, with baked potato, and a salad with ranch.
She takes our drinks order, and, as we’ve all decided, notes down what we want to eat.
Leaning back in my chair, I ask how their day went.
Predictably, Ace just says school was fine, even though Toni tries to draw him out about it.
As for her, she’s spent time looking around the small shops in town.
I just sit back and take it all in. I’m not really listening, instead watching the expressions on their faces.
The details, I’m not interested in. But what strikes me is how happy Ace is in her company, and how Toni responds to him as if she’s known him for years.
It dawns on me that I was right to let them meet.
What the future holds is another story. Toni lives a five-hour drive away, and Ace’s home is here.
But it will probably be good for my son to have someone he can text or video call.
Apart from his nana and teachers, the only other adults he comes into contact with wear leather or are associated with those who do.
It wouldn’t harm him to foster a relationship with a civilian.
As the evening draws on, and they pull me into their conversation, I find I’m enjoying myself. Her companionship is easy, and nothing like the long awkward silences when, on the rare occasions I’d been home, I’d taken her sister out for a meal.
The more time I spend with Toni, the more I think I’m being unfair to compare her to the twin she never knew.