Milk and Honey: Mated to the Monster
1. Mel
Five minutes. That was what I always gave myself before I took a deep breath, plastered on the night’s smile, and slipped into The Scarlet Pole for my shift. It was a little pocket of time, a gift of some peace and quiet while I sipped the dregs of my daily latte. I savored that syrupy bottom-of-the-cup goodness before finishing off the best bite of my pain au chocolat—a bougie croissant with some chocolate shoved up the middle—and headed inside.
I carefully tongued a little cinnamon cream off of the corner of my mouth to avoid smudging my dark red lipstick as I tugged the oversized brass handle of the club’s back door. I’d been doing my makeup at home lately, after some of my more expensive products were permanently “borrowed” by the younger girls. A wash of loud, drunken revelry greeted me, a deafening beat all but shaking the walls as I made my way down the service corridor. Mandy must be on stage. Her ongoing joke was that bass-heavy songs were the only thing she wanted between her legs these days, and I couldn’t blame her. That last ex had been a real piece of work until our bouncers put the fear of god in him.
Vic waved me down before I’d even made it to the back. The short, perpetually-stressed Italian gave me the cajoling smile he only pulled out when he wanted something. “Mel! Thank god you’re a little early. Mandy’s exhausted and Jessica called out, can you work a double for me? Some management retreat’s supposed to be swinging by with a bunch of guys later on and you know I can’t have an empty stage.”
I sighed, adjusting the strap of my duffel on my shoulder, already feeling the ache in my feet from future hours on stage. “I mean, I guess, but do you have any shorter heels in the stash? The ones I brought will damn near cripple me if I’m up there too long.”
He nodded eagerly, holding the door of the dressing room open for me and sliding past me to drag out the big bin of shoes and accessories from the closet. Rissa looked up from switching out the balls on her nipple piercings and gave me a grin. Vic was a five-year Scarlet Pole staple and fiercely loyal to his wife Mary, so none of the girls gave a damn if he was in the dressing room, Rissa included. “Good to see you, Mel. You picking up Jess’ sets?”
“Mhm, if Vic can find me a pair of shorter heels that won’t send me straight to the damn chiropractor.” I unzipped my duffel and dangled a sky-high heel from an ankle strap with a pointed look. “I could manage them for the time I was supposed to be on stage, but not more than that.”
She huffed an agreement, giving her piercing a final turn and spinning to inspect it in one of the lighted vanity mirrors ringing the room. “I’m telling you Mel, you should do a set barefoot. Some of these guys tip twice as much for it, and they don’t give a damn if you’re short if your toes are cute.”
Vic sighed behind me, passing me a pair of strappy black leather heels that were much more reasonable in height. “Don’t give her ideas, Ris. I already worry you’re gonna slip or step on something one of those assholes leaves on stage, don’t need two of you giving me agita.”
She laughed in response, pulling on a crop tee so short and tight, the Scarlet Pole logo in the middle was essentially overkill. She stuck her tongue out playfully at Vic as she slid past him to work the floor. Our overworked manager gave me a jaunty salute and headed after her while I got ready and took the stage a few minutes later.
Even though my feet still ached after smiling, spinning, and swiveling my way through twice the sets I’d come prepared for, I made it through the night. I’d have to take a long, hot bath tonight as an apology to my body, but I kept the money in mind with every wincing step out to my car, promising myself an extra fancy latte before my next shift.
I yawned and rested my forehead on the steering wheel of my ancient sedan before shoving the key in the ignition. The sodium-yellow lights of the parking lot just made the nearly-full moon overhead look that much brighter through the windshield, coaxing a genuine smile out of me. One of these nights I needed to take off, go star gazing the way I used to, decompress a little.
But for now? I had glitter in places no glitter should be, that bath was calling my name, and my bed was just about the sexiest thing I could think of.