Page 16 of Georgia On My Mind (Southern Promises)

“Georgia B.! So good to see you on this beautiful spring day!” He came from around his desk and held his arms out to hug her. She didn’t refuse. “And looking all sexy and glamorous too, I might add! What’s the occasion, Georgia?” His New York accent was broad and loud.

Gia hated it that he called her by her birth name, Georgia. It was her legal name on her driver’s license, and unfortunately, on her checks Franko personally wrote out to her. She had shortened her name to “Gia” many years ago after a significant life-altering event. Unfortunately, unless she legally changed her name, it would remain the same on her license.

“I’m here for my monthly check. If I’m not mistaken, I performed five Marilyn acts, three Madonna’s and two Officer Good Body. I’ve got the calendar printout right here.” She started to pull a piece of paper out of her purse.

“Nah, I don’t need that.” Sitting in his office chair, he pulled out and opened a large, leather-bound book and scribbled on a check with his expensive gold pen. “That should do it.” With a full grin, he ripped the check out of the book and handed it to her.

Right away, Gia noticed he had added one-hundred dollars to the original total, making her eyes light up. “Thanks, Franko! What did I do to deserve the big tip?”

Franko rose from his chair and came around to the front of the desk where he leaned his butt and crossed his arms. “You look too damn good today for me not to give you a tip, Georgia B.”

Shaking her head, Gia quickly put the check in her purse.

“Seriously, when are you gonna come work for me at the club? You’d be such a big hit! You’re stunning and sexy as hell…” He pointed his finger directly at her. “I could see you doin’ a number from that musical, Chicago. You know, bring a little theatrics into the joint with your dance training and all. You even look like that gal from the movie too. You know, the dark-haired one.”

“Catherine Zeta-Jones? She played Velma.”

“Yeah! That’s the one. Man, you’d bring the house down with a Velma act.” He eyed her up and down while nodding. “I’ve always told you, I’d make it worth your while.”

Gia stood tall and offered him her most seductive smile. “I appreciate that, Franko. You’ve always been very complimentary and respectful.” She took in a deep breath. “There is something I wanted to ask you.”

“Oh, yeah? What’s that, Georgia B.?” He leaned back with his palms on the desk.

“I need a favor. A small loan—two-thousand dollars. I’m willing to pay interest on it until I can pay you back. You can also book me as Marilyn or Madonna every night this month if you want to.”

He scowled, interrupting her. “Geez, Georgia. You in some kind of trouble? You need help?”

She quickly shook her head. “No, no it’s nothing like that. My business…my dance studio is challenging at the moment. I need to get some bills paid and figure out my next steps. Two-thousand dollars is all I’m asking. I would appreciate it more than you know.”

“Hmmm…” He stood and sucked in his expanding middle, placing his hands on his hips. “You know, you could make two-thousand dollars outright in one weekend here at the club. You would owe me nothin’—no interest either. All tips are yours too. Some of my gals have made up to five-grand in a weekend. Something to consider.”

Gia’s heart fell. “So, you won’t give me the loan?”

Franko smirked. “How’s about I guarantee you two-grand this Friday night.” He held up two stubby fingers, his pinky ring flashing in the light. “Two shows. No strings attached. If you like it, the job is yours. Whadyasay?”

“I…I don’t know, Franko. You know I’m not comfortable with the idea of being naked in front of a bunch of strangers. I mean, in my Marilyn and Madonna acts I purposefully wear beautiful undergarments to give an illusion rather than going all the way.” She nervously clutched her purse with both hands, realizing asking Franko Bartelli for money wasn’t such a good idea.

He filled the space that was between them and held up two fingers again. “Two shows. I’ll even put you in the prime 11:30 slot.” He brushed his calloused index finger quickly across her lips. “Think about it.”

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