Page 13 of Dirty Little Secret
The drinks were flying as men took advantage of grabbing the alcohol-filled glasses from between our legs. The female waitresses all had to wear short black shorts with hot pink shirts that were tied up between our tits, which overflowed from the low-cut tops. Our bellybuttons were to be exposed at all times, and any customer who ordered a body-shot got one.
As the song and our dance came to an end, the men in the crowd started calling out the different shots they wanted to drink from our navels. Rob once again took my hand, this time to help me to lie on top of the bar. He filled my bellybutton himself, watching closely as men took turns slurping the liquid off my body.
Body-shots were just part of the territory of serving in these kinds of clubs, and never once had I felt an ounce of the shyness that had plagued me as a teen. But tonight, that shyness seemed to be coming back, and at lightning speed, too.
My cheeks heated as one hot guy after another took their turn. Turning my head, I looked at Rob. “I think that’s enough. My tables are waiting, and I bet they’re thirsty.”
“You’re right.” Rob announced the end to body-shots, much to the dismay of the men who were waiting for their turn. Groans of disappointment filled my ears as I got off the bar, once again assisted by Rob. “If you need a boost, just come to my office, and I’ll make sure you get one.”
Following Taylor back out to the floor, I asked her, “What’s this boost that Rob keeps going on about?”
She winked at me. “Blow.”
“Cocaine?” I shook my head. “I’m not doing any of that. You know I’ll drink just about anything, but drugs? No way.”
“I know.” She bumped her shoulder against mine. “I’ll tell him to leave you alone. He’s just totally crushing on you, that’s all.”
“I can tell. And I don’t like it.” I looked over my shoulder to see him leaning over the bar, talking to some young girl who was making sexy eyes at him. “He’s got plenty of tail available to him. He can do without mine.”
“He can,” Taylor agreed. “But will he? That’s the real question now, isn’t it?”
Squaring my jaw, I wanted to make sure Taylor knew I wasn’t about to roll over for that guy. And if he even thought about pressing the issue, I’d hit him with a sexual harassment suit that would make his head spin. Since being on my own, I’d never been one to take much shit out of anyone. Not after everything I had taken from my very own parents.
“Over here, Zee,” some woman called out to me. I’d made sure that only Zee appeared on my nametag. I didn’t want anyone to use my real name. Zandra wasn’t exactly a common name, and I didn’t want anyone who knew me from before to realize who I was. I knew there would be loads of questions. And I didn’t want to answer any of them.
For only a split second, that tiny baby’s face filled my head again and it stopped me dead in my tracks. “Zee?” Taylor asked as she came up behind me. “You okay?”
Am I?
Shaking my head to clear it, I said, “Yeah. Just a little lightheaded is all. I guess that tequila shot finally kicked in.”
“Be careful, girl.” Taylor took off to deal with her own customers as I tried to focus on the task at hand, forcing the memories as far behind as I possibly could.
Reaching out to take the empty glasses off the table full of young women who’d called me over, I asked, “Do you girls want more of the same?”
“How about we go with something different this time, ladies?” the girl who’d called me over, the apparent leader of the pack, asked her friends.
The group agreed and then they all looked at me for some suggestions. “You were drinking mojitos, so how about trying cable cars? They’re both rum-based. The key to avoiding a killer hangover is to drink same-base liquor all night, but you can mix up what you drink it with.”
The leader gave me a huge smile. “Aren’t we lucky to have you as our guide for the night? Cable cars it is, then. Thanks, Zee. With age comes wisdom, right?”
A curt nod answered her question. As I left their table to get their drinks, it occurred to me that my twenty-six years seemed to be years apart from the early twenties of seemingly everyone else at the club.
Not even the blue streaks in my hair are making me look younger!
But did I really want to be a young twenty-one or two-year-old? I’d learned and grown a lot in the last few years, and I wouldn’t go back for anything.
My expression must’ve given my inner thoughts away. “Feeling a little overwhelmed, Zee?” the bartender asked.
“No.” I wasn’t about to tell him that I was feeling old. “Five cable cars, please.”
I put the dirty glasses in the washer while I waited for him to make the drinks. He eyed me while he made them up. “You’re doing well tonight. I’ve got to admit that I thought this might be harder for you than it is.”
“And why is that, exactly?” I had to ask him, thinking I already had a few ideas of what he might say. My age. A lack of experience with large crowds. The shyness I’d overcome in Chicago, but that seemed to be creeping back in now that I was back in Charleston. Any one of those things could be the reason behind his words.
Pouring some Captain Morgan into the shaker, his lips pulled up into a cocky smile. “You’re new here. It takes most people about a month to get to where you are now. Impressive.”
“So, it was my lack of experience that made you underestimate me,” I said wryly, though truthfully I was happy to know it wasn’t my age.
