Chapter Three
Mackenzie
F inally, the doors are closed, and I can take a breather. Besides a fifteen-minute break around eleven, I’ve been going all night. Two o’clock is always my favorite time of the workday.
“Hey, Mackenzie.” One of the dancers, Heather, walks over and drops onto one of the barstools. She hasn’t bothered putting on a top after her last dance onstage so she’s wearing nothing but a thong as she leans forward on the bar.
Her tits look amazing, but all the dancers’ do. The owner, Harrison, is definitely a tit man.
I’ve become quite desensitized to nudity working here. The girls never get fully naked on the stage or floor, but I’ve heard some rumors about what goes on in the private rooms. Luckily, I’m not the one who has to clean them.
I’ll never shame any of the women for what they do. It’s their lives and their bodies. If some of them don’t mind taking it a bit further than a dance for some money, then good for them. I just can’t imagine blowing some guy for money.
“What were you talking to Harrison about?” Heather asks, and I smile.
Heather is nosy as hell, but she’s also a locked vault when it comes to everyone’s secrets. I can only imagine the things she knows about the dancers, our clients, and probably even Harrison. There’s just something about the pretty brunette that makes you want to open up to her. I’ve done it on more than a few occasions myself.
“I was asking if he’d be able to throw any more shifts my way.” I sigh, leaning against the bar. I can spare five minutes to chat with her before cleaning up behind the bar. There were two of us tonight, and we’d usually split the cleaning and closing up between the two of us, but Gemma’s sitter needed her home and there was no one else to watch her kids. So I offered to take care of it. It’ll take longer than usual, but that means more time I’m being paid, so I can’t complain too much.
“My parents’ estate has finished in probate, and if I want to keep the house, I have to come up with two hundred thousand dollars by the end of next month. They refuse to work with me on a payment plan since my credit is practically non-existent. On top of that, I was let go from my day job. They’re downsizing and I ended up on the cutting block. I need to be able to pay my bills while looking for a new job, hence needing more hours here.”
“Holy shit, girl! That’s insane.” She shakes her head. “If you really need to make some money, you might want to consider becoming one of us. I know you guys make good money for what you do, but there are weekends I clear ten grand in tips. They’re not all like that, but a couple of grand is the usual amount. We already know you keep them coming to the bar. It’s that innocent face you have, plus the banging body. You could make bank.”
She makes a face. “Maybe not two hundred grand in a little over a month, but you could put a dent in that. You might have to give up the house, but you’d be able to afford a new place. It wouldn’t be terrible. You already get along with the dancers, so I’m sure they’d all love to see you out here with us.”
“I don’t know about that. Do you remember how much I fought wearing the damn booty shorts when I started?” I snort, shaking my head. “I don’t know if I can do what you all do. It’s not a bad idea, but what if I suck at it? Then I’m screwed because Harrison would’ve already replaced me.”
Heather giggles. “I doubt you’d suck at it. You’re always dancing behind the bar, so I know you have rhythm. I’d totally work with you, and I’m sure some of the other girls would too. It’s just an idea, but there are worse ways to make money.”
With a smile and wink, Heather saunters off toward the dressing rooms, leaving me blinking after her for a moment. Shaking my head, I focus on getting shit done.
Me? A stripper?
I just can’t imagine it.
“Hey, Mackenzie.” A gruff voice draws my attention to the new bouncer. He’s only been here for about a month, but he’s so damn nice. It doesn’t hurt that he’s hot as hell. If I wasn’t drowning in life right now, I’d consider sleeping with him. Sadly, stress isn’t great for my libido.
“Hey, Greg!” I shoot him a smile without stopping what I’m doing. One five-minute break is acceptable, but two are not. “How was your night?”
He grunts, shrugging. “I didn’t have to throw anyone out, so that’s a win.”
I laugh, nodding my head. There are some nights when security has had to throw half the people in the club out.
“I know you’re busy, and I apologize, but I overheard what you were telling Heather.” He grimaces when my gaze darts up to meet his. “I didn’t mean to listen in, but I was taking care of something for Harrison within earshot.”
It’s my turn to shrug. “Eh, whatever. It’s not like it’s going to be a secret that I’m working more, and people will want to know why. You would’ve found out eventually.”
“That’s true. Gossip spreads pretty quickly around here.” He laughs, pulling something out of his pocket. “This isn’t the only job I have. One of the jobs I do is work as a recruiter for an event. It could help with your money troubles, and I think you’d be a great addition.”
“Oh? What kind of event? Are they looking for bartenders?”
He winces. “Not exactly. Look, I can’t go into too much information as these walls have ears. Take this card, and if you’re interested, I’ll tell you more when we get off, yeah?”
I take the business card from him, finding that it’s embossed—A Night to Remember Auction.
“An auction? What?”
Greg glances over to where Harrison is standing, watching the two of us. “After work?”
Without waiting for a response, he turns and walks away. Not really having another choice, I nod and tuck the card into the waistband of my shorts. I have no idea what this is all about, but I trust Greg. I’ll just wait to see what he has to say after we get off work.
I wave at my boss before getting back to work. It takes me about an hour and a half to finish up, but I don’t mind. I’m not looking forward to the hour-long drive home. I’m starving. Maybe I’ll hit up my favorite diner to get some food before heading home.
Yes, that sounds like a great idea.
“All done?” Harrison asks as I step into the employee locker room. His office is across from it so he can see us as we come and go.
Spinning on my heel, I nod. “Yup. I just have to grab my stuff, and then we can get out of here. Sorry, it took so long.”
He nods as I hurry over to my locker and grab my stuff. When I turn around, he’s leaning in the doorway. “It’s alright. I know Gemma had to hurry home. You still made good time considering you were on your own. Plus, the cleaners just finished up.”
“I’m glad you didn’t have to wait too long then.” I go to move past him, but he doesn’t move. Frowning up at him, I ask. “What’s up, Harrison?”
“I added you on a few more days next week. You can check out the schedule tomorrow.” He still doesn’t move out of my way, and I don’t understand why. “Look, I know it’s none of my business, but do you have something going on with Greg?”
I snort, lifting my hand to my mouth as I start to giggle. “Sorry.”
I wave my hand at him as I attempt to get myself under control. Once I’ve stopped laughing, I shake my head. “Nope, boss. We’re just friends.”
“Just friends? Like I haven’t heard that before.” He grins at me. “Sorry to ask. It’s just that he’s new and while I trust him with being security at the club, I don’t know him well enough to not worry about him dating one of you.”
“That’s sweet, Harrison, but I don’t have time for dating right now anyway. If I did, I wouldn’t date someone I worked with.” I pat him on his chest. “You don’t have to worry about me, I promise.”
He nods. “Yeah. Okay. Let’s get out of here so you can get home.”
We head out the back entrance that leads to the employee parking lot. I step out first, and Harrison checks to make sure the door locks behind him.
“Just friends, hmmmm?” Harrison murmurs.
Frowning, I follow his line of sight to see Greg leaning against his car right next to mine. “Don’t be an ass. He wanted to talk to me about something. I’m starving so I thought we’d go to eat while we talked. That’s all.”
While most of that is not what Greg agreed to, it’s what’s going to happen. My stomach is growling loud enough that Harrison is side-eyeing me as he fights back a laugh.
“Whatever. I’m going to get some food. I’ll see you tomorrow night.” I wave at Harrison over my shoulder as I walk to my car.
“You can come in early if you want. We’ll squeeze you in a half-hour break so you can eat something.”
Grinning, I glance over my shoulder at him. “You’ve got yourself a deal. I’ll be in at five, if that works for you?”
“Works for me. Have a good night, Mackenzie.”
“You too!”
Greg says nothing as I approach, moving directly to my car door. “I’m starving. How do you feel about talking over some food at Betty’s?”
“I do love Betty’s.” He grins. “I’ll meet you there.”
It’s about a fifteen-minute drive to the diner, but it’s late enough that it’s pretty empty. We’ve managed to miss the bar crowd, but it’s still too early for the early-morning diners.
We settle into a booth in the corner and place our orders before I pull out the card he gave me, noticing for the first time that there’s an email address listed. But nothing else. That’s weird. “What is A Night to Remember Auction?”
“It’s an annual auction that’s been going on for years. It’s very hush-hush. The only way to hear about it is by word of mouth, and there are rules about who you can mention it to.” Greg sighs. “I’m just going to get this out. It’s an auction where people buy a weekend with the merchandise. Which are men and women who are scouted out or who are recommended by a past client. The club it’s held at caters to the wealthy. Everyone signs an NDA and background checks are run on both the clients and the merchandise. It’s extremely safe.”
An auction to buy people for a weekend? For what? Sex? It has to be sex, right? My mouth drops open, and I want to give him a piece of my mind, but he hurries to continue speaking.
“Before you yell at me, they pay the merchandise five hundred grand.”
That has me pausing. “Five hundred thousand dollars to spend a weekend with whoever purchases you? I’m not reading between the lines incorrectly, am I? They buy you for sex, right?”
He nods. “Generally speaking, yes. The auction is next month. If you’re interested, email a picture of the card to the email address on the card. They need proof that you were actually invited. They’ll tell you everything you need to know. And now that I’ve told you about it and given you the card, I won’t speak about it again. You have my word on it.”
“Yeah. Okay. I’ll think about it.” I slide the card into my purse. “I don’t know if this is something I would even be interested in, but I appreciate you telling me about it.”
The waitress arrives with our food then, and we drop the subject. But I can’t stop thinking about it. Can I sell myself to the highest bidder for five hundred grand?
Part of me screams no, but the logical part knows this is my best bet at making the money I need to keep the house.
Fuck.