An attractive African American woman, Cassandra had had the job for years now, taking over where Jump’s old lady, Alicia, had left off, managing the girls and running the place under the Jacks’s supervision.
Under Cassandra’s precise direction, the Tingle had undergone an overhaul—a renovation of the building and the decor and across-the-board firing and hiring of staff and dancers. The investment had been big, but the payoff had been bigger. The club attracted men from all backgrounds and social strata and plenty of women, too. There’d been talk of putting together a ladies’ night with male strippers at some point. That would be fucking popular, for sure. Business was good.
“Hey, you.” Cassandra slanted her head at me, a tablet in her hands. She gestured down the hall. “Kicker’s in his office, if you’re looking for him.”
“I’m looking for Mindy. Saw her car in the lot.”
“She’s out front, working with the new girl.”
“Thanks.”
I headed down the hall, toward the main room of the club. Under the glare of the bright house lights, there was no mystery, no drama, no sensation, no theater. The rows of empty tables and chairs were stark against the black floor and walls, like layers of lifeless bugs. The lighting fixtures seemed excessive and awkward, the stage a narrow glamour-less runway fitted with poles. All of it seemed ordinary. Or maybe I was just too used to it, desensitized.
All this ordinary would transform once the place opened tonight, the specially designed colored lights creating their finely-tuned magic along with the pounding music and the throb of sexual anticipation. A mesmerizing playground of greed, indulgence, and lies.
Mindy was sitting on a table, her feet planted on a chair, watching Shelley Anne perform her routine to some pop tune. She glanced at me, her eyebrows shooting up.
“Got something to say.”
Her attention returned to Shelley Anne. “I’m busy.”
“Just for a minute.”
“That’s what I’m worth to you, huh? A minute of your time. Such a prick.”
I leaned back against the table, and we both watched her new protégé twist around the pole on lethal heels.
“I have an old lady.”
“Yeah, it’s fascinating how that happened. No one else seemed to know about her before. And her? Jesus.”
“Watch it.”
She glared at me. “We’ve been screwing for over a month now—”
“I haven’t been marking my calendar.”
She clamped her mouth shut.
“We both knew what we were doing, Mindy, what it was about.”
Her back straightened. “I got that you saw other women. I’m not stupid. I was seeing other guys, too.”
“So, what’s the problem? Why you got a stick up your ass?”
“I guess none of it counted for anything, huh?”
“Like what?”
She let out a dark laugh. “Should I be impressed that you came here to explain?”
I pushed up from the table. “I didn’t come here to explain nothing. I came here so that you’re clear on what’s going on and what isn’t.”
“Yes, sir, I’m clear.” Mindy ran a hand through her long ponytail and returned her attention to Shelley Anne, who was crawling on all fours on the floor of the stage, trying to imitate a cat in heat. “I’m very clear.”
PIPES ROARED BEHIND ME. I looked over my shoulder as I strapped Becca into her car seat. Boner, on his bike with those purplish shades, pulled in right next to me on Clay Street in the center of Meager. A little sting went through me at the sight of his dark splendor on his vintage Harley, at the memory of his voice in my ear last night.
“Make you dirty for me.”
“Bo!” Becca clapped. “Mommy, Bo!”
I grinned at him. “Hey, Bo.”
He grinned back. Wicked, knowing, pleased.
“Rae told me where I’d find you,” he said, shutting off his engine.
“You called Rae?”
“Yeah, I wanted to surprise you for lunch. You haven’t eaten yet, have you?”
“No, but I made a tuna salad for us at home before I left.”
“No tuna. Buffalo.”
“Buffalo salad?”
“Buffalo burger, hon.” He laughed. “Bacon-double-cheeseburger kind of buffalo.”
My eyes popped open.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought. You said you’ve never had one, right? This one is top of the line.”
“Seriously?”
“I don’t kid about burgers. It’s one of my essential food groups. Can’t have you missing out, especially when it’s a local specialty.”
Sexy times and good food. Who would have thought a fake relationship would be such a pleasure?
“Follow me.”
“I should check on Rae first.”
“Rae’s digging into that tuna salad and French bread with Martha, as we speak.”
“She told you about the French bread?”
“And the Greek olives.”
“And Martha came over?”
“The lady from next door, yeah.”
“Oh, geez. You got it all covered.”
“On most days, I do. Get in your car, key in the ignition, and follow me.”
“Anything else?” I asked.
“Double-check Becs. Make sure she’s strapped in tight and put your own seat belt on.”
“Unbe-freaking-lievable.”