Trying To Move On
I wipe down the table and then walk back around the counter. Sam smiles at me and holds her hand out. I pass her the cup and she takes. it, putting it in the dishwasher.
“So, tonight?” She smiles and is hopeful I will agree, but I can’t.
It’s been six months since I ran, and even though there have been no signs of him locally, he still messages daily. I won’t put myself at risk.
“I can’t, sorry.” I can’t do it.
“Harley, whatever you’re hiding from, stop. It’s not happened.”
Maybe she is right, but it’s still a risk am not willing to take. “I can’t.” She rolls her eyes but nods. The workers here are nice, and often invite me out but I always refuse. I finish making the black coffee. Holding the cup. I turn to place it on the side when I hear the voice.
“Hey there little mouse.” I jump, and throw the coffee all over, spinning I get ready to face him, but instead, I see a man with his arms around the woman whose coffee I just threw.
“Dammit Harley!” I turn and look back at Sally. My eyes widen as I see Sam crying.
“I’m sorry.” Shit, that’s twice now I’ve thrown hot drinks on someone.
“Look, you’re a great worker and everything Harley, but this time I can‘ t ignore it. Pack up and leave.”
I go to argue but stop, she’s right, she can’t ignore this. The first few
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weeks I dropped so much, and then I slowly felt safer not jumping as much when I heard the door or footsteps. Last week though I dropped hot chocolate down Luke, I spaced out, and I somehow went back to there. Sally let me off with that, but this time I don’t blame her for wanting me gone.
I walk through the back and grab my bag packing my things.
“Look, I’m sorry. I know my workers would never take me to court, but I can’t risk this happening with a customer Harley. Can I give you some advice?”
I nod as I throw my bad over my shoulder.
“Get help, whatever happened, whatever this is, you will always be on edge until you get help.”
I don’t bother replying.
This book had been added on your bookshelf. Cave. Driving home I stop the car about the same distance as I always do before walking to the apartment. I step inside and lock the door, doing my usual routine. of checking all cupboards, behind furniture and anywhere else. someone could hide.
Once I’m satisfied it’s clear I sit on the old worn sofa, and grab the laptop. I begin looking for a new job. I have enough money to last about two months, but I need to get a job before that starts to run out.
I apply for random jobs, stopping when I see an ad for dancers wanted. I linger on it for a moment before clicking it and reading.
Dancers wanted.
Identity stays hidden.
We’re not a brothel.
Trying To Move On
We are not a strip club.
We do not exchange sex for money.
Experience is preferred but training can be given to the right woman.
After finishing reading the article I send a request through to them. I like that my identity is hidden, it means no one will know it is me. It is also a place I know Joel would never walk into. Which makes it even
safer.
Switching sim cards I message my dad an update on university. Right now though I’m lying. I haven’t been to university in two years. He thinks I am still going though, so for now I will keep up the act.
Placing the phone and laptop down I fall asleep on the sofa. I wake hearing a scream, rushing I look out of the window, my heart pounding through my rib cage, I look around and see a man and woman. She is laughing now, her body thrown over his shoulder.
I move back to the sofa and sit in silence for a few moments before picking up my phone and clicking on the message, it is from the club, offering me an interview tomorrow. I guess I will go, if it’s not safe, or anything I can always leave.
Forcing myself into bed, I go to sleep, knowing that I need sleep to be able to perform tomorrow. I have no idea what they will ask me to do, or if they will even ask me to dance. I will need the energy though.
Waking I shower and shave, getting dressed in a small leather skirt and bralette and shirt I throw on some heels and grab my things.
I can dance, that is how I made money before meeting Joel, but he despised it, and I ended up quitting, or rather getting fired because Joel wouldn’t let me go and I missed too many days. Maybe this is the way
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to find myself again, and get a small part of me back.
Walking to the car. I then spend thirty minutes driving to the club. It’s far enough away again that Joel won’t know where I am living. Stopping outside I walk in, and a woman looks at me.
“Harley?” I nod and smile at her and she calls me over. I walk to her and take in the club. It’s run down, far from a place that makes
thousands.
“Okay, so I will start with the rules. As the ad said, this isn’t a place to sell yourself for sex, anyone found doing anything like that will be gone without getting paid.”
Wow, she’s blunt.
“I don’t plan to.”
“Sorry, some women think this is a job to get quick cash from guys, Most dances are done out here, however, we do have private booths. around the back. These booths have cameras, more so if any guy tries. anything we have proof.”
“Do you have to dance in the booths?”
“No, whatever you’re comfortable with. We have eight dancers. Four dancing a night. Some nights it depends on the crowd. We have poles for those women who are trained and able to dance on poles, the others are just erotic dancing. Do you have any questions?”
She looks at me waiting and I nod.
“Dancing out here, is it on stage or off stage?”
“Out here, you dance on stage and between tables.”
Trying To Move On
I nod thinking of the next question. “Dancing with customers, it didn’t state about lap dances and such?”
“That is your choice, each girl can do whichever dance she wants, if you’re comfortable dancing and doing some on a guy’s lap, fine, if not, that is fine.”
“Okay, that’s great, and how is identity hidden?” That I need to know.
“If you get the job, there is a back entrance, it isn’t connected to this. building. Our dancers come through it from next door. All dancers wear masks that cover their entire face. If you’re comfortable with it, you can wear a wig and such. Masks are mandatory, all dancers must use that entrance, never this one.”
Well. that makes me feel better. Sitting we discuss it some more, and I find myself loving the place.