Sierra
Chapter twenty-five
“Lilac, can I see you in my office?” Rico’s voice drifts into the dressing room from where he’s standing at the doorway. He has his head down, as he always does.
“Yeah. Be right there.” The door shuts immediately and the girls all start laughing.
“Looks like someone missed you. Why don’t you climb on his lap and ride him like you’ve never ridden a man before?” Porsche bumps my shoulder with hers and winks.
I know she’s just joking, but those words make me want to barf. I get it. Rico is handsome, but he’s my uncle so, ewww.
Oh god. Now I start to think back about the times I caught myself ogling his ass. I need to bleach my brain and eyes. At least I can attribute it to not knowing, thanks to Rico himself.
“Go rock his world, bitch,” Candi adds in, shooing me away. I’ve just about made it to the door when I hear her again. “We missed you, Lilac, and you look happy.” I look over my shoulder and smile.
The two of them are the closest things to girlfriends that I have. I wonder if they would be upset to learn I’m only seventeen, and that up until Monday, my aunt beat me any chance she had, and I was the sole provider for my kid sister.
I walk slowly to Rico’s office, taking my time. I’m already dressed for my first set of the night, so once I’m done talking to him, I’ll head to the stage. I’m sure my fanbase will be happy. The girls told me how they were asking about me and wanted to know when I’d return.
In a weird way, it made me happy. To know someone missed me, even if it’s only because they enjoy watching me dance naked.
Lifting my hand, I knock on the door twice before he yells, “Come in!”
“You wanted to see me, boss.” I love how he rolls his eyes at my choice of words.
When Rico and I talked earlier today, I mentioned wanting to keep our relationship to ourselves. I didn’t want anyone at the club to know he was my uncle yet, especially not until I turn eighteen and CPS can’t say shit about me dancing here.
“I did. Shut the door behind you.” I do as he says and then walk over and sit down in the chair in front of his desk.
Being here in my little catholic school girl outfit, I’m uncomfortable and I’ve never felt that way before. It feels dirty now, knowing he’s my uncle.
“You have one of the clients who requested you tonight. His time is ten and he’ll have you for thirty minutes.
No touching unless you want it. He wanted you out of the mask, but I shut that shit down.
He wants to keep his identity a mystery like you, so he’ll be wearing a mask and the lights will be low.
There may also be one other person in the room. ”
What? He’s wearing a mask?
“Who is it?”
“Wanted it to be a secret like you. Said you can call him Cox when I reconfirmed the time and rules today. Are you sure you’re okay to be here tonight? I can call and cancel him.”
“I’m good. Anything else?” I give a small, forced smile.
“Okay, then get on out there. Just head to Room A at ten.” I give him a salute and huff a laugh at myself before standing and heading to the door.
Just as I’m about to open it, I look back at him. “Thank you, Rico, and I promise to come to you if at any time I can’t handle tonight.”
I don’t wait for an answer and quickly open the door and step into the hallway, closing it behind me.
Before I head to the floor, I pull the mask down over my eyes and make sure my wig is firmly in place.
The beat of the music gets louder the closer I get to the floor. The whoopin’ and hollerin’ of male voices drown it out as they shout at the woman on stage.
I peek around the corner to see a packed house, and it’s barely eight thirty. I can feel the artery in my neck pulsating, my heart racing in my chest. I’ve always gotten nervous before going on the stage, but somehow this feels different.
I can’t explain why. It just does.
Taking a deep breath, I steel my nerves, straighten my posture, and slip on a smile. Lilac comes out to play, the baddest motherfucking bitch in the house.
Once I’m in the right mindset, I step into the club area, strutting my ass around the room, stopping to say hello to a few of my regulars.
I always lay my hand on their shoulder, letting it glide up and down their arm as I laugh at their jokes.
They eat it up as usual, and I step away, leaving them craving more of my personal attention.
That’s why a lot of them want a private dance. As much as I hate doing them, it’s where the big money’s at. My mind drifts to the one later tonight and I’m a little curious why he only wanted me.
I feel his eyes on me before I ever see him. Looking around through the crowd as I weave between the tables, I spot him.
He’s standing, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.
Cyrus.
My protector.
He winks, mouthing I love you. Flutters explode in my stomach and I can feel my face heat under his intense gaze. I mouth it back, fighting the urge to move over to him and let him wrap his arms around me.
I make my way over to the stage to get ready since I’m up next.
I’m doing a throwback number tonight since I haven’t worked on any new routines and who doesn’t love a girl in a pleated skirt and white button-up shirt.
It’s a fantasy of every guy who’s ever watched the Britney Spears music video from back in the day.
Gem is just finishing up her number as I move to the side of the stage, awaiting my announcement. I’ve done this so many times, it’s familiar to me now. When I get on the stage, I know how to block everything out and own it. It’s the only time when I’m in the club that I feel in control.
Lost in my pre-show ritual, I don’t notice Gem coming off the stage until she’s right next to me.
“You’re up girl. Kill it!” She stumbles slightly as she steps past me. How the girl can dance in her pleasers, spinning and flipping around the pole and not miss a step but almost crash to the floor just walking is beyond me.
“We can only hope,” I whisper as I take a deep breath. The emcee announces me and the crowd goes wild.
I take my time, going up the steps, slowly moving across the darkened stage and take my spot at the pole. Leaning against it, I arch my back and pop my hip. It’s time.
Just as the first beat of the song hits, the spotlight lands on me and Lilac starts to dance.
Turning, I grip the pole, taking a slow walk around it before launching into a back hook spin.
I can hear the men in the audience and see the money landing on the stage, but it's all a blur.
My hips move to the music and I spend equal time on and off the pole. I was afraid with the time I’ve taken off I would be rusty, but I guess it’s like riding a bike, you never forget.
My costume comes off piece by piece until I’m left in nothing but my G string and I crawl across the floor, putting my crotch in the men's faces as they slip money underneath the strings of my underwear.
Not a proud moment, but it pays the bills, and separating the true me, Sierra, from my Lilac persona gets me through it.
Before I know it, I’ve climbed up the pole for my final trick and when the end of the song hits, I slide down in an inverted crucifix drop as the spotlight goes off. The stage goes dark.
I gather up the cash on the floor and make my way off. Cyrus is already there waiting for me with a coverup.
“You did amazing, baby.” He doesn’t kiss me nor say it loud enough for anyone to hear. The number one rule in the strip club is to always look available to the patrons.
“Thank you,” I murmur. My hand lingers a little longer on his as he helps me off the last step and into my cover up.
“Rico wants you to work the floor for thirty minutes, then head to the back and rest before your private party.”
“Okay.” I nod and step around him, but before I walk away, I turn back to him. “You’re going to be waiting outside the door for me, right?”
“If you want me there, that’s where I’ll be.” Cyrus shoots me a wink. I’m not sure why, but I want him there. I head on to the back to change into something to walk the floor. My clothes from earlier will be there, collected by Gina, along with any money I missed on the stage.
I’ve made it through the first dance; I can make it through the night. Then come Monday I’ll make it through being back at the hell hole I call high school.