What About Us

by Sidney Halston

  And then I realize I’m not the only one who can see them.

  I slam my drink on the bar, amber liquid swishing out of the glass and onto my hand, but I ignore it and take long, calculated steps toward Helen, not caring one fuck that I’m bumping and pushing people out of the way.

  “What the hell is this?” I bark, pointing to her chest.

  I undo the button on my suit jacket and quickly remove it. Her eyes are wide and her face is flushed, and she looks around the room with a mix of humiliation and anger. “Let’s go!” I snap my fingers and push my jacket against her chest. She still hasn’t said a single word. Her bow-shaped lips, colored bright red, form an O and her eyes blink rapidly. Her hands are suspended midair and she’s looking at me, confused.

  A moment later there are two meatheads crowding me. “What is going on here?” One looks at me, then at Helen.

  “I…uh…” she stammers.

  “Helen. We’re leaving. Now.” I reach across the bar to pull her by the arm when suddenly my own arm is being bent awkwardly behind my back and I feel a burn from my rotator cuff.

  “Listen, buddy,” warns one of the security assholes. “You can’t touch any of the staff. You either leave quietly or you leave in cuffs. Your call.”

  I try to pull away, but he pushes my arm higher and I stifle a groan through gritted teeth. “I leave only when she leaves.”

  “All right, so cops it is,” the guy says before signaling to asshole number two, who takes out a phone. During the entire conversation my eyes haven’t left Helen once. People are staring, and she clutches the jacket closer to her body, her cheeks on fire.

  “What are you doing?” she whispers. “Get out of here. You’re going to get arrested.”

  “Then leave with me and that won’t happen.”

  “Helen, doll, do you know him?” one of the guys asks.

  “Doll?” What the fuck? I try to pull my arm free again, but my face is slammed against the bar. Fuck, that hurt.

  “No.” I look up at her and glare. “Okay, yes, I know him, but…”

  “Boyfriend?”

  We both yell out a resounding, “No!”

  “Family?”

  Without hesitation, I blurt out, “Yes. She’s my sister and her tits are out for the entire goddamn bar to see. Now let me the fuck go!” I growl. “Helen, damn it. Let’s go.”

  “Helen?” One of the bartenders around her nears, and then another…

  “You okay, babe?” the redhead who was helping me earlier asks her. “He was asking for you. Didn’t know he would be trouble.”

  Helen waves her hand around and feigns a smile. “It’s okay. I’m okay.”

  I know what Helen’s smiles look like and that’s not it. She’s faking. Everything is not okay. Mostly, I’m the cause for that.

  But reason and logic have flown out the window and I don’t care why I feel the way I do. I just know that come hell or high water, I’m getting Helen out of this place tonight.

  Even if I have to buy this entire fucking place. And then, I’ll fire her.

  Chapter 5

  Helen

  I’m mortified.

  I was trying to blend in. I was already nervous and uncomfortable and then Alex, who before a few weeks ago I hadn’t seen in over a decade, went apeshit and now everyone is staring at me. I wish the earth would open up and swallow me.

  And…who does he think he is? Coming to my place of work, creating a scene. Judging me!

  And, sister?

  Before our one and only kiss, he’d always treated me like a sister, but I’m not his sister. I’m a grown-ass woman who can show her boobs to whomever she wants…thank you very much.

  All of this is running through my head as the bartenders around me, whom I’ve never worked a single shift with before tonight, come to my defense. Toro and Fritz, two of the security guys and my friends, are pulling a crazy-looking Alex out of the room and his eyes, his glaring pissed-off eyes, haven’t looked away from me. The look he gives me sends a shiver down my spine.

  “Who’s that? Are you okay?” Kevin asks.

  I’m startled out of my trance. “Uh, yeah. Yes. I’m fine.”

  “Seems really pissed,” Linda adds.

  He does. Why is he so mad? “He’s an old friend.”

  “He’s about to get his ass in the back of a black-and-white, doll,” Kevin says. “You sure he’s not more than a friend?”

  “I haven’t seen him in years.” I swallow hard, looking at the group that has formed around me, watching the chaos. I’m still holding his jacket, which I fist close to my chest. I can’t believe this just happened.

  Iggy appears out of nowhere and signals me to the back. Damn it.

  “Day one and already problems with boyfriends? Maybe this isn’t—”

  “No!” I protest and shove Alex’s jacket into Iggy’s hands. “He’s not my boyfriend. That was not my fault. I’m doing my job. I’m fine.”

  “Seems pretty pissed for someone who’s no one.”

  I shrug. Because he is no one. He may as well be a stranger.

  “I apologize about that scene, but that was not my fault. I barely know him. If you’ll excuse me, I have work to do.” And before I’m fired, I duck around Iggy, who’s looking at me suspiciously, to go tend to the bar.

  I can say one thing…I’m so mortified about the scene Alex caused, I forget my boobs are peeking out through my shirt.

  Alex

  I’m in an office, glaring up at the meathead who is still holding onto me and a new guy who just walked in. By the tailored suit and commanding presence, I assume he’s the owner. “What’s going on?”

  “Let. Me. Go. What do you want? I have my checkbook…”

  “Who the hell do you think you are? I don’t need your money.” He turns to the other man. “Have the cops been called?”

  “On their way.”

  “You think, for one goddamn minute, I’m going to go leave while…while…” I can’t even say it. Little Helen Blackwood is topless at the bar. “You can bring the entire police station down here. I’m not fucking leaving. Now, let me go before I press charges myself.”

  The man smirks. “You got balls. I’ll give you that. What did he do?” he asks the security guy.

  “He was trying to grab Helen.”

  “I was not trying to grab her. I was helping her get out of here. There’s no way she wants to work in a place like this. She’s not a fucking stripper. She’s a goddamn Blackwood!” I yell, as if that’s supposed to mean something to these people.

  “I’m not going to take offense because I’ve had a nice night tonight. I’m about to go see my woman, have a good meal…I’ll let the police figure this one out.”

  I take a deep breath. “No. Wait. Stop. Helen, she’s…she’s family. I was—” Something passes through his face. “Do you have sisters? What would you do if you walked into a strip club and the stripper was your sister?”

  I don’t know why I keep referring to her as my sister. Yes, we grew up together. And yes, she was almost like a little sister to me, hanging around, taunting me, being a general pain in the ass—

  Except, she never felt like a sister to me. Not even close. But maybe that’ll appeal to this guy. He exhales loudly. “What’s your name?”

  “Alexander Archer.”

  “Archer? As in the owner of Archer Technologies, which cost me a server last week.”

  I try to pull myself free, but the fucker behind me just tightens his grip. “I didn’t cost you a server. I made a stripper a very wealthy woman.”

  He groans. “For someone who needs my help, you do enjoy being insulting, don’t you? This isn’t a strip club.”

  I close my eyes and try to calm down. “Somebody
else touched that other server. A colleague. One who, I will agree, is an asshole who perhaps deserved to see the inside of a jail for a day or two, just to teach him a lesson on propriety. However, my team of lawyers made your employee a hefty offer. One that, honestly, she didn’t have to accept if it was so insulting. And one that, you should note, I didn’t have to offer. Glen would’ve gotten a slap on the wrist, and your server would be back here serving tables, naked, her life completely unchanged.”

  He crosses his arms over his chest. “What is it that you want? Why shouldn’t I just hand you over to the cops?”

  “Because—” I panic for a moment. I need to get Helen out of here today. One more moment of her naked is one more moment I’m going to go crazy. “Because I need to talk to Helen. I have a proposition for her. You should at least give me the opportunity to discuss it with her. I wasn’t trying to hurt her. I would never…” I let out a loud, irritated breath. “Ask her yourself.”

  He eyes me for a moment, then says to the goon behind me, “Let him go, Fritz. Give us a minute.”

  Fritz. What a ridiculous name. I rub my shoulder and narrow my eyes at the ogre whose neck I’m this close to breaking. I’m not a man who takes kindly to being touched by strangers, much less threatened. If my mind hadn’t been focused on Helen, I wouldn’t have been caught off guard.

  “Drink?” he asks, walking to a wet bar in the corner of what I assume is his office.

  I stretch my neck side to side. “Scotch.”

  He grabs a bottle of Blue Label and pours me two fingers and then the same for himself, adding an ice cube in each.

  “Have a seat.”

  I don’t move.

  “Either you talk to me or you talk to the cops. Your choice, buddy. But first, you need to calm the hell down.”

  “I’m not your buddy,” I fume, gulping down the smooth liquid before sitting.

  He rolls his eyes and then takes the seat behind his desk.

  He’s waiting for me to speak. But I don’t. I just want to go talk to Helen.

  “If I tell you that the cops are not coming, will you save me the headache and just leave my club?”

  “No.”

  “Didn’t think so.” He slowly sips his drink. “So, again, what is it that you want?”

  “Helen.”

  “How about you stop barking single words and orders at me and let’s start again. I have a soft spot for my sister. So, I’m willing to listen. But don’t forget, you’re not in any position to piss me off any further.” He leans forward and extends his hand. “Matt Moreno, part owner of Duality.”

  I hesitate for a moment but then, like I always do, I weigh my options. The pros and cons. I can be a pain in the ass; ultimately, I’ll find Helen and get her out of here, but not without having to call my attorney, possibly pay a ton of money, and commit a crime. The crime being hauling Helen’s ass out of here by force. Or, I can play nice with this guy, avoid a call to my lawyer, and maybe, just maybe, he’ll help me get Helen out of here.

  I reach forward and shake his hand, then lean back and cross my ankle over my knee. “Alexander Archer, and I need your help.”

  “Can’t wait to hear this.”

  “I don’t want Helen working at a strip club. I’m not sure why she even has to work here,” the word comes out in a repulsed tone, “but whatever the reason, I want her out of here, tonight. Now, actually.”

  “I won’t repeat myself. This isn’t a strip club.”

  “I saw a lot of naked bodies upstairs.”

  “But you can’t touch them. They don’t do lap dances and they don’t accept dollar bills.”

  “I have hundreds.”

  “Not what I meant,” he says with a smirk. “They’re topless, but so are the men who work for me upstairs, and the trapeze artist and fire breathers. But that didn’t bother you.”

  I glare at him.

  “So, you don’t like your sister walking around topless, is that the problem?”

  “That is the problem.”

  “It’s not your choice. As far as I know, she’s old enough to make her own decisions. No one is forcing her to do anything.”

  “She looked uncomfortable.”

  “It was her first day.”

  And her last.

  “And it was her choice. No one forced her. To be honest, it surprised me and the other owners when she applied for the position.”

  “Applied for the position?” I scoff. What the hell did they require?

  “You’re really starting to fuck up my mood, buddy. I’m about through with your arrogant attitude. No wonder she didn’t want dick to do with you.”

  I fist my hands on my lap and breathe in deeply.

  “She’s been working with me for a while and I never thought she’d want a job upstairs,” he continues, his tone more clipped than a minute ago. Apparently, he’s protective of his employees, and I can’t help but respect the asshole a little.

  “I need to talk to her,” I admit.

  “Her shift’s over at two.”

  “It’s eleven.”

  “Well, you got some time to kill, bud. And you can’t do it here.”

  “I’ll pay you. How much to get her to get dressed and come talk to me?” I know I sound desperate, but I don’t care. I am.

  “I don’t need your money.”

  “No, but she does.” She must. Why else would she be working here? “How much would she make tonight? Whatever it is, I’ll double it.”

  He looks over my shoulder and I turn my head. I had not noticed the entire wall of screens showing live feeds of the club. I follow his eyes and see Helen. My fists clench. She looks so uncomfortable as she serves a group of men. Her shoulders are slightly bowed and she’s fidgeting with her hair. I can see her breasts, and I hate that other men can see them too. Fuck, I hate that this Matt guy is watching her right now.

  “I’ll give her a thousand dollars to just come talk to me. Ten minutes, that’s all I ask.” Shit, I left my jacket with Helen, and my checkbook’s inside. “And I’ll give you a thousand just for doing me the favor.” I know I sound like I’m begging, and I hate it.

  I wait thirty seconds and when he doesn’t answer, I reach for my phone because I’m done negotiating. In two minutes I’m having this place shut down and by the end of the week, I’ll buy it if that’s what it takes. I start to dial my attorney’s number, but Matt interrupts me.

  “I don’t want your money. Give her the two grand. You have ten minutes, and Fritz will be right outside the door the entire time. And she has to agree to talk to you, first. Got it?”

  “Got it.”

  “I’m only doing this because she looks miserable, and Helen never looks miserable,” he says, looking at the screen one last time. “She’s one of my best employees. Customers usually love her and so does the rest of the staff. This is…” He points to the screen, where a frazzled Helen drops a glass. “This isn’t our Helen. Something has been going on with her and she won’t talk to us about it.”

  “Our” Helen?

  I groan. Who the fuck is this guy?

  Well, whoever he is, he’s helping me out by getting Helen out of that damn room.

  Helen

  “What does a guy have to do to get you to smile?” a man who’s leaning against the bar asks. His eyes keep drifting down and I feel my entire body break out in goosebumps.

  I feign a smile, but there’s no way the three men in front of me believe it’s a genuine one. I’m sure I look like I have gas. I don’t want to be here. I accidently drop a glass, and the rowdy group of men whistle when I bend down to retrieve it.

  How did I get to this point in my life?

  To add to the discomfort I feel, I have this inexplicable guilt at having allowed Alex to get
arrested. Not that he didn’t deserve it, coming to my place of work and causing a scene. Yes, the jerk deserved it. Maybe not being arrested, but something…

  “Hey, Helen. Matt needs to see you,” Fritz says, dispersing the douchebags around my side of the bar. I watch Linda take control in a second. She pours each of them a shot, then one for herself, and thrusting her chest out, she tips it back and the men holler as they drink up.

  God, why can’t I do that?

  Downstairs, I was a star. I made the most tips and never had one complaint. I was sure of myself and felt confident and never questioned my appearance. Here, I’m exposed, like an open wound, full of self-doubt. And I can’t imagine it getting any better as time goes on; I’ll never be okay with being nude. I’ll never be Linda.

  “Helen?” Fritz waves his hand and I look back at him. I’m surprised to see him again so quickly. Shouldn’t he be dealing with the police and the crazy lunatic who just came waltzing back into my life? “Let’s go. Matt needs you.”

  “Uh, now?”

  “Right now. I already told them to cover for you.” He points to the other bartenders. Shit, Iggy must’ve told Matt to fire me.

  “Okay. Let me just grab my shirt. Meet you outside the lockers.”

  I walk briskly out of the bar and into the employee changing room and throw on the T-shirt I came to work in. I see Alex’s expensive silk jacket by my locker. Iggy must’ve tossed it there. I stuff it in my bag, surely ruining it in the process. Then, I meet Fritz by the staircase.

  “What happened to Alex?”

  “Alex?”

  “The guy? The argument?”

  He shrugs and leads me downstairs to the office, where I find Matt waiting outside.

  “How are you doing?” Matt asks.

  “Fine.”

  “You sure? Were you hurt?”

  “No. Not at all.”

  “Good. Good.”

  “Listen, Matt, I am so sorry about that. It was so humiliating. I don’t know why he was so worked up, but please, please don’t fire me. I really, really need this job. God, do I need this job, and—”