Page 17 of Wanting Mr Black

“Seriously? That much?”

“Seriously. Of course, there are slower nights when it’s not as busy, but it’s still usually pretty good. You tend to have your regulars.”

I hesitate. She’s easy to talk to, and I’ve got a million questions.

“So, you have the same guys who come in, and you …” I try to find the right words but can’t. I really don’t want to offend her.

She smiles at my awkwardness. “It’s okay. Ask away. I’ve got a thick skin. That’s something you develop, working here. Most of the punters are fine, but there’s always the odd one who acts like a dick and tries it on.”

I frown. “What happens then?”

Her crimson lips widen into a smile. “Big Steve throws them out.”

I nod. “So, when guys come in, do they all want the same thing?” I ask because I really have no idea.

“It depends on the guy. Usually, they want a lap dance, but some just want to talk about regular life stuff. Their missus. How their kids are doing or why they’re worried they might lose out on a promotion at work. Sometimes, I feel like a therapist.” She laughs. “A very underdressed one.”

I look up at the stage. “I can’t imagine standing up there, in front of everyone.”

Her eyes scan me up and down. “Why not? You’ve got a nice little figure.”

“It takes more than that though, doesn’t it?”

She smiles. “I’m Red, by the way.”

“I’m Sophie.” I pause. “I think that you’ve some balls to do what you do every night.”

Red scrunches her nose, as if she doesn’t entirely agree. “Yeah, it was weird when I first started. I’d never done anything like thisbefore. And you need amazing core strength for pole dancing; it took a lot of practice to get good at it. My boyfriend hated it to begin with, but like I said, the money’s good, and it keeps me fit.”

“I’m guessing your boyfriend freaked out.”

“At first, but after a while, he came round. He knows I’m safe and it’s professionally run.”

As I scan the club, the coil of nerves in my stomach begins to ease for the first time since being here. Red’s helped settle some of my anxieties. I like her.

“To be honest, I wasn’t happy when I found out Art owned a strip club.”

Red laughs. “I can sort of understand that. Like I said, we don’t see that much of him.” She pauses and looks at me, as if thinking about something. “Put it this way: in the three years Art’s run the place, I’ve never heard of him being involved with anyone and definitely never known him to bring a woman here.”

Hope fizzes in my chest at her words, but before I get a chance to savour the feeling, my thoughts are interrupted.

“I didn’t think I’d be seeing any more of you.”

We turn to find Tara standing behind us, dressed in skinny black jeans and a tight cerise-pink tank top. Her kohl-rimmed eyes cut into me, and she puts her hands on her hips. “Not after the way you scarpered on Saturday night.”

Last time I ran. But not anymore.

“Tara, that’s enough,” Red interjects.

I fold my arms. She’s not having the last laugh this time. “Let’s stop beating around the bush, shall we? You didn’t tell me about the club because you wanted me to know the truth; you told me because you hoped it would break me and Art up.” I narrow my eyes. “I know you’re in love with him.”

Tara glares at me.

I carry on, “And isn’t it a bit of a coincidence that you started working here after you met him at Savage?”

For a moment, she looks taken aback, and then she snaps out of it. “What the fuck are you trying to say?”

“It’s just odd – that’s all.”

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