Page 56 of Ruined
“Ugh. Boring ass shit,” she groaned. “Lucas was a good boss, but I hated the job. So damn boring.”
Lucas turned to me. “So she came here.”
“And do you come here often?” I asked Lucas. He shook his head.
“The only other time he’s come here is when I asked him to come to my thirtieth birthday party,” Alice answered. “He never takes a damn day off. Works too hard. Which was part of why I left Conway Capital. Quicker money here and I have more time to myself.”
Alice froze in place, listening to a voice on the speakers that I couldn’t understand. I blinked. What was going on?
“Shit. That’s me,” she said.
“You’ll give her a tour?” Lucas asked.
“Sure. After my set.”
I wasn’t sure what to think. At the Dahlia District, I had long ago gotten used to the idea of the members being shared between the servers. We couldn’t get possessive over them, or it brought out the drama they longed to escape from in the outside world. But how was I supposed to feel about Lucas taking me to a strip club? Was I supposed to be jealous? Upset that he had been here before? Did it matter?
Alice took the stage, cleaning the pole at the end of the catwalk in the same way as the dancer before. Then she spun around the pole in intricate twists, using the movement to hoist her legs up and around the pole, then moved her body upside down, until she finally clung to it with her thighs. She pulled down her bra and her breasts popped out.
“She was a good employee,” Lucas said. He topped off our flutes. “When she said she was quitting to come here, I offered her a promotion and double the pay. But she said it wasn’t about the money. She just wanted to dance.”
It was hard to comprehend, and easy to, at the same time. Working in a strip club did seem more entertaining than working with numbers on investment accounts, but tochooseto work in the sex industry? That seemed strange. It had never been my choice or Mama’s. We had worked these jobs out of necessity. Alice had chosen this world.
And yet I realized something. The Dahlia District may not have had strip dancing on a pole, but was it really so different from a strip club? Maybe itwasa brothel. Maybe it was worse.
I looked around at the women: baby-faces, cougars, painted lips, tired eyes, and excited grins. They weren’t different from our servers, were they?
Did Mama like it better at a strip club than she did at the Dahlia District? Mama had always been good at the pole; she even once said that she loved doing tricks. Had she ever danced on a stage like this, with a catwalk?
Before I knew it, Alice was standing in front of the couch again. She nodded at my flute. “Finish that off. Let’s go,” she said.
I downed the rest of my drink and let her lead me. She took me to an opening at the far end of the room, near the DJ booth, and led me down the hallway. She pointed at the doorless rooms to the side.
“Dressing room. Dressing room. And here’smydressing room.”
The farthest door frame opened into a large room. There were vanity bulbs across the top and bottom of the mirrors, and the countertop was full of makeup, hot tools, hair extensions, and duffel bags overflowing with colorful lingerie. A few women sat in the chairs, one on her phone, and two others eating slices of pizza, and another stood with her face right next to the mirror, putting on a set of fake eyelashes. There was only one server that I knew who had mastered that art; Teagen never went onto the main floor without them.
One of the women finished her bite of pizza, then turned to Alice. “Did you see that guy in the polo?”
“The white or the green one?” Alice answered.
“The green one. That’s the guy I was telling you about. Sells appliances. Thinks you’re pretty.”
“Thanks, babe.” Alice took a five out of her clutch and handed it to the woman.
“And that guy in the suit you were talking to?” the woman asked.
“That’s her man,” Alice said, nodding towards me. “Everyone, meet Haley.”
“How did you know my name?” I asked. I didn’t remember telling her it.
“Lucas told me.”
“You two want a couple’s dance?” one of the women asked.
Alice patted my shoulder. “I’m giving her a tour. Showing her what’s back here where the lights are on.”
It actually looked similar to the dressing rooms at the Dahlia District, but like Alice pointed out, the only difference was the lighting. Dahlia had insisted on mood lighting, even in the dressing rooms, so we’d have a more accurate representation of what we looked like out on the main floor, but back here? The lights were brightly fluorescent and not the most flattering, making it so that you could see every nook and cranny. The spilled tanning spray underneath the countertops. The loose hairs twirled inside of a curling iron. The mustard stain on the white lingerie sitting on top of a duffel bag.
