Page 5 of When You Dance
I’d been working here for the past five years, and I was beyond grateful to have a job that I liked and paid well. Although I would love to dance full time, strippers were getting nastier by the day. My money would be limited simply by the things I refused to do. No one would want to really see me if I wasn’t doing anything else. That was why I had to always make sure my routine was something they’d never seen. It was beyond simple twerking or swinging around the pole. I did fucking gymnastics on that pole. I nearly bust my head open one time in practice, trying to get my freefall illusion just right.
There was one guy, though, within the past few months that was there almost every weekend. He tipped really well. He’d given me a thousand dollars the first time he saw my performance. Every weekend he was in attendance, he tipped me no less than three hundred dollars. I nicknamed him Bandz. It didn’t help that he was nice looking. He reminded me of just how lonely I had been.
Outside of work, I didn’t have any friends. So once I was at home, it would be extremely quiet. I hadn’t had a boyfriend in years. I’d been on dates, but I hadn’t found anyone that could hold my interest. I was only twenty-eight years old and lived like an old maid until Friday and Saturday nights. On Sundays, I stayed in my apartment all day watching movies and eating junk food. I didn’t know how I expected to meet anyone that way, but whatever.
I headed inside and said, “Donuts!”
They came out of every corner of the office like scattered ants whose mound had been disturbed. I giggled every time that happened. I brought breakfast every Friday. Going to my cubicle, I dropped my things and booted up my computer to get ready for the day. “Sandrene, you looking all snazzy today. Gorgeous, girl,” my coworker Heather said.
“Thank you,” I said with a smile and continued getting ready for my first appointment.
He would be here in ten minutes, as soon as the doors opened for business. I noticed the employer had sent over an evaluation sheet, so I would have to ask him questions that were presented on the form. After getting everything ready, I pulled my bottle of orange juice from my purse and went and got a donut to scarf down.
Once I checked my face to make sure I didn’t have any glaze on it, I cleared my throat and sat up straight as my boss unlocked the door. The minute he did, a few people came in. I glanced down for a moment and realized I had crumbs on my shirt. I quickly wiped them off and looked up to find a man standing in front of me. I nearly lost my breath. It was Bandz.
Quickly recovering, I swallowed hard as he smiled. “Good morning. How can I help you?”
“Good morning. I’m Jamel Dent, and I’m supposed to be getting recertified and evaluated today at eight.”
“Okay. Let me look up your info.”
He nodded then pulled his phone from his pocket as I searched his name.Shit.He was who I would be with this morning. He was my first appointment. “Well, what do you know? You’re my first appointment. My name is Sandrene. Have a seat.”
His eyes widened slightly. As I stood, I noticed his eyes leave my face and grace my curves. “Hello, Sandrene. For real?” he asked.
“Yes. Why is that surprising? Hold on, let me get this paperwork from the printer.”
When I turned my back, I closed my eyes for a moment and took a deep breath. I was praying he didn’t recognize me. Although I wore a mask, we made eye contact quite often. The first day, I held his gaze for a while.Shit, he is so fine.His beard begged for my conditioner every weekend, and his lips promised to do damage. They were so thick, especially the bottom one. His caramel coated skin was begging me to lick it, and his smile said that he would let me.
As I turned to make my way back, he was still standing, waiting for me to return. He was taller than I realized. I was five-seven, and I had to look up to him. I would assume he was at least six feet. His slender but toned frame in his distressed jeans and a Biggie T-shirt was silently promising me an amazing time as I headed back to him.
“It’s surprising because it’s mostly men that do these certifications.”
“How many certifications have you gotten, Mr. Dent?”
“This is my third one. I got my first one when I was twenty. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not complaining,” he said, then slowly licked his lips as his eyes graced my curves.
I gave him a soft smile then quickly looked down at the papers. He was making my body temperature rise. “Please fill these out completely. It’s not a lot. Should only take a few minutes, then we’ll go outside.”
“Okay,” he said as he smiled at me and sat.
When he bit his bottom lip, I swore I was gonna levitate. I was hot as hell, and I just wanted to disappear. “You have a slight accent. Are you from this area?”
“Yes, but my parents were immigrants from Cape Verde.”
He frowned slightly. “I’ve heard the name, but where is it?”
“It’s an island country in Africa.”
“Oh. I thought you would say you were of Latino heritage.”
“Well, I am. I speak what’s called Cape Verdean Creole. Cape Verdeans call it Kriolu. My mother spoke Portuguese and was originally from Portugal. My dad was originally from West Africa, Gambia to be exact, but moved to Cape Verde as a kid. He spoke English, French, and Kriolu as well, plus a few other languages. The official language of Cape Verde is Portuguese though.”
“Oh, okay. Were you born there then came here as a baby?”
“No. I was born here. We lived there for a couple of years when I was little though. My father had a business there.”
He nodded. I turned away from him for a moment as I discreetly watched him fill out his paperwork. When he finished, I stood as I looked over it. He stood also. “Okay. Follow me.”
