The Big Mistake

by Lexie Ray

  Almost reluctantly, Parker finally let me off the hook and shook my hand. Her grip was brief but strong, the handshake of a very capable woman. There was a reason Faith had always spoken of her so reverently, and it was probably because Parker knew how to get stuff done.

  “You can dress how you like when you’re here,” Parker said, eyeing my torn jeans. “It’s the DJ booth. No one sees you.”

  “Oh, good,” I said. “At my day job, I dress like a giant corncob. I’m glad I won’t have to follow that kind of strict dress code here.”

  Sol grinned, but Parker didn’t so much as crack a smile at my attempt at a joke.

  “Follow me,” she said. “Sol, please go take a crack at the schedules for next week. I’ll go over what you come up with.”

  “Good luck,” Sol mouthed, wiggling her fingers at me as she walked across the club. Even if she wasn’t in sparkly costumes like other dancers, she still garnered plenty of long, lingering looks. I was sorry to watch her go. She felt like my only ally here, and now I had to face Parker alone.

  I noticed, heading toward the DJ booth, that Parker garnered just as much attention as Sol had. I didn’t blame the patrons — my new boss was hot, after all — but it made me consider just how challenging it might be to work here. I didn’t want people ogling me for my looks all day. I preferred to be ogled while wearing a corncob costume, honestly. It was a lot less sexual, and a lot more comfortable.

  I admired Parker’s command of high heels as we climbed a few stairs to get to the booth. From here, I had an excellent view of the main stage and all of the tables in the club. I could also get a peek into the VIP area. I knew what went on behind those heavy curtains.

  “This is usually my domain,” Parker said, looking out over the floor. “But I’m training Sol, and I’d like to have an extra pair of eyes and ears and hands while I do so.”

  “So after Sol’s ready to take the lead, will I be out of a job?” I asked. Faith had told me this was part-time — not temporary. Part of me was sort of relieved, having an out, but part of me was disappointed. I couldn’t really put my finger on the reason why.

  “That depends on you,” Parker said, staring coolly at me. “If you prove yourself here, and if you enjoy it, we can make space for you.”

  “No dancing, though, right?” I said, chuckling nervously. “Faith said there wasn’t dancing.”

  “No dancing,” Parker confirmed. “Unless you wanted to. It’s good money.”

  “That’s all right,” I said. “I’m already the Corn Queen. I don’t need any more fame.”

  “What is it with you and corn?” she asked, cocking her head.

  “Oh!” I laughed. “Sorry. I figured Faith — or Sol — might’ve mentioned it in passing. I work at a snack shop, and they have me dress up as a corncob. It’s one of the items on the menu — corn on a stick — and I kind of yell at people to buy it, among other stuff.”

  “So you’re comfortable telling people what to do, and speaking in front of strangers,” Parker said, settling herself on a tall stool and crossing her legs primly. She didn’t ask me to sit down in the other one, so I remained standing.

  “That’s right,” I said. “I’m more than comfortable, in fact. That’s what I do all day, and I think it’s fun.”

  “I think I understand, now, why both your friends vouched for you,” she said, the corners of her mouth lifting gently. “I respect Faith and Sol a good deal, so I’m giving you a chance. I usually prefer to hire in-house, only people I already know, but I’m making an exception with you.”

  Parker was tough, but I’d been heartened by her smile. I could’ve told her to go to hell, could’ve told her I was only doing this as a favor for Faith. I didn’t need this job or any sort of drama from a woman I couldn’t quite get the feel for.

  And yet, I did want it. This place intrigued me. I felt I’d understand my former roommate and my friend better if I witnessed firsthand what they’d done to advance their futures.

  If both Faith and Sol now had their happily ever after, settled down with men they loved, who treated them like princesses, then maybe this club had the right ingredients to help me find my Prince Charming, too.

  “I am really interested in this position,” I said. “I’ll do good DJ work. I’ll just have to learn the electronics side of it, but I know my way around buttons and music.”

  “Let me show you,” Parker said. “Have a seat.”

  I guess whatever I’d said pleased her enough to extend me that courtesy. Plunking down on the other stool, we both leaned across the controls.

  “It’s better if you start one song and let it fade into the song that’s ending,” Parker began, pointing at a collection of buttons and slide controls. “Awkward silence makes for awkward customers, and the money flows a little slower.”

  “Make the customers comfortable,” I said, nodding my head. “Got it. We like our customers happy. We like that money.”

  A sidelong glance from Parker told me I was babbling, so I buttoned it up.

  “You’ll mainly be controlling the music and the announcements,” she continued. “Let the girl who’s next up know she’s ‘on deck,’ so she can be ready when the song changes. We do different promotions throughout the day. Sometimes, the girls will dance for two songs. Other times, only one. They choose their music, but some of them don’t care and you can pick it. Go with something modern and fast. Slow jams can be all right, too. Just read the crowd.”

  “So if the crowd I’m reading tells me it wants the Chicken Dance…” I said, trailing off as I raised my eyebrows.

  Parker’s mouth stayed in a perfectly straight line, so I lapsed into silence again.

  “Less frequently, you’ll control the lights,” she said, pointing a perfectly lacquered nail at another row of buttons. “They’re on a program, but if a girl has a special request and you know how, you can accommodate her. There’s the microphone, there. You’ll have a list of the dance order, which rotates regularly based on who gets here first. Introduce them, have a little banter with the customers, but keep it simple.”

  She eyed me critically, so I nodded to show her I understood.

  “Simple, concise,” I said. “Quick banter. Got it.”

  “Feel free to be creative,” Parker said, “but no Chicken Dance. And keep the corn to a minimum.”

  “I understand,” I said. “The Corn Queen — ah, sorry. It’s just a role I always play. No room for the Corn Queen here. I’ll make sure to leave her back at the snack shop.”

  “Here’s the thing, Jennet,” Parker said, leaning a little too close to me. I fought the urge to cringe backward, but I didn’t want my new boss to see just how much she intimidated me. I forced myself to hold intense eye contact with her.

  “You have the best view of the club from here,” she said, sweeping her arm out to indicate the entire floor. “You’ll be working as part-time DJ for me, sure, but your main job is to keep an eye on everything. You don’t need to be counting drinks for everyone, but if there’s a drunk, rowdy customer that slips my attention, I need you to tell me about it immediately. If there’s unwanted contact between a girl and a customer, tell me immediately. Anything that looks wrong or goes wrong or even smells wrong — I have to know.”

  I swallowed. This was a lot of responsibility, more than I thought I would be taking on just as a part-time DJ. Faith hadn’t told me about this part of the job, but I suspected she didn’t know, either.

  “You’re nervous,” Parker said, and it wasn’t a question.

  “Of course I’m nervous,” I said, my tone a little too sharp. “Sorry. It’s just…as the Corn Queen, I just yell at people to eat things to make them fat. I’ve never really actively…looked out for people before. This is a huge deal.”

  “Faith told me how you cared for her brother while she worked here,” Parker said. “She trusted you with the person who mattered most to her. I may not know you, but I trust in Faith’s judgment.”

  “I’l
l try my best,” I said. “I really will. I just don’t want to let you or anyone down. This is a heavy responsibility.”

  Parker nibbled at her own lip delicately, then nodded to herself, seeming to make a decision.

  “I require someone who cares about this position,” she said. “It doesn’t matter if you can work the controls or the equipment. It matters that you’re looking out for my girls. The previous guy I had up here — he wasn’t. A situation got ugly. I wasn’t up here to see it in time, and a good dancer decided to quit because she didn’t feel like she got the protection she needed to work here.”

  “I’m so sorry,” I began, but Parker waved me off.

  “The fact that you understand how great of a responsibility this position really is means a lot to me,” she said. “Sure, you’re the DJ, but you’re also my eyes — and a bouncer, too.”

  “I’m not going to have to physically remove anyone from here, am I?” I asked, aghast.

  “No, no,” Parker said. “But you can tell the bouncers and me who to remove, who’s causing problems, who’s acting foolish.”

  “Because if you need me to kick some ass, I’m totally down,” I said, grinning and curling my hands into fists. “Just let me off my leash, boss.”

  Parker sighed and rolled her eyes, but one corner of her mouth had hitched up a bit. I could tell she was amused, and it made me breathe easier.

  “No kicking ass required,” she said. “But I’m happy to know that I can count on you in a brawl.”

  “Do those happen?” I asked, maybe a little too eagerly. Faith had told me stories about shoving matches, but I wondered what it would be like if the whole place got involved. Chairs and bottles smashed, people flying through windows — just like a saloon scene in the Wild West. I’d be down there with the best of them, firing a pistol in the air just to try to get people to clear out, and there he would be: my Prince Charming, galloping in on a white horse to save the day.

  “Absolutely not,” Parker said, snapping me from my amazing daydream. “Nothing will happen if you’re vigilant, and if you keep me apprised of any situation you come across.”

  “How do I get a hold of you?” I asked. “Do we get walkie-talkies?”

  “Too hard to hear above the music,” she said. “Text me. I have my phone on vibrate.”

  Parker punched a couple of buttons on the control panel, and one song faded into another.

  “Give it up for Rose, everyone, that’s Rose,” she said, her voice becoming even throatier. “Not a thorn on that one. Next up is Diamond — she’s got a sparkle in her eye tonight, ladies and gentlemen. I know you’ll see what I’m seeing. Maven on deck. Enjoy.”

  The music amped up and the light show started as the dancer named Diamond made her way to the pole, silver sequins catching the lights and blinding anyone sitting too close to her.

  I turned to Parker and laughed. “I thought you said no corn.”

  She smiled lightly. “All right. A little corn is probably necessary. In your free time, you can look down the list of names and come up with some lines of your own.”

  In my free time — yeah, right. I had some controls to learn, some names to go over, and, oh yeah, I was responsible for the well-being of every person in this club. To say I was overwhelmed was understating it, but I was really just eager to do everything correctly, to protect everyone, and to do Parker proud.

  “I’m really excited and grateful,” I told her as she pushed herself gracefully off the stool. “I’m going to try really hard.”

  “Then that’s all that matters,” she said. “I’m going to go check on Sol and make the rounds. It’s all you.”

  I’d only watched Parker man the controls a couple times, now, but I was fairly confident I understood the movements and what needed to go into it. My eyes crawled down the list of dancers — how did they come up with these stage names? Both Faith and Sol had gone by their real names, but I found it terribly hard to believe that someone was actually named Vixen. I imagined that perhaps they had other lives away from the club, lives that would suffer if anyone guessed their real identities. That had to be terribly stressful leading a double life. Most of the time, I could barely keep my own crap together. But that kind of separation had to be required, here. If they had loving families back at home, the dancers couldn’t want to bring that into the club — or bring the club back home, either.

  There was a discipline here that went beyond physical fitness and prowess on the pole.

  The song ended and I grimaced, hurrying to start the next one and slide the control to fade it in. It was a seamless transition, one that swiftly transformed my grimace into a grin. A bouncer helped Diamond gather her dollars from the stage as I switched on the microphone.

  “That was Diamond, ladies and gentlemen, one of our brightest jewels,” I tried. My voice sounded foreign as it reverberated throughout the club thanks to the mighty speaker system. I sounded — and felt — a lot younger than I actually was, more inexperienced.

  “Look at my jewels, Pink!” a patron howled from below, and all of a sudden I was ogling a very drunk man waving his junk at me from the club floor.

  There was going to be a very steep learning curve here at the club, and I wasn’t sure I was going to like what I had to study.

  Chapter 5

  The club was hard work, though it got better from that first day. It gave me something to talk — and laugh — about with Sol and Faith, and they had stories of their own related to bad customer behavior.

  “Once, some drunk guy interrupted the lineup by jumping up on stage and trying to dance on the pole,” Sol told me. “It was the middle of the day, and the bouncer had gone to the bathroom, so Parker had to let the guy stay up there for a bit. He was quite good, actually, until he tried to climb the pole and smashed his face on the stage. Oh my God, the blood! He deserved it, though. Tried to sue the club for letting him do it — and to repair his teeth.”

  “Once, a guy parked ass in the private dance lounge,” Faith told me. “He had the cash to support himself back there, so Parker didn’t pay him any mind. The girls started rotating in because he kept demanding dance after dance, and we decided to sort of spread the wealth since no one dancer had that kind of stamina. Then, out of nowhere, a pizza delivery boy showed up at the front door of the club with a huge stack of pizzas. Apparently, the customer had ordered all of that food for himself and left explicit orders with the restaurant that the delivery boy had to take the pizza directly to him, back in the private dance lounge. The kid was like 16 years old! Parker ended up covering the kid’s eyes and having the bouncer help her escort him back to the lounge, where the customer paid up. Free dinner for everyone, at least. It was a good night, but a strange one.”

  I would leave my apartment, excited and ready to start my day, splitting my time between the snack shop and the club, and return to it exhausted, too tired to so much as think of Nick and our friendship or about being lonely and friendless. I knew I wasn’t friendless, and I certainly wasn’t lonely anymore. I was surrounded by people all day, every day. Part of me missed my previous solitude, but I didn’t want to feel ungrateful. Working at the club gave me something in common with Faith, and it was wonderful to be able to see Sol again all the time while she trained to be the new Parker, or whatever. Whenever she got a free moment, Sol would come see me in the DJ booth. I would teach her what Parker had shown me, and she would dish about Xander and what their plans for the future were.

  I was happy my friends had found love, but it was sometimes difficult to hear about their love lives. It made me that much more aware of my lack of love, but I just needed to be patient. If I couldn’t be patient, I might make the mistake of trying to be with someone who was less than Prince Charming, and that just wouldn’t do.

  An added perk of my DJ job at the club was that more and more, dancers were approaching me to chat about anything under the weather. They were supposed to come to me with music and lighting requests, but after they were don
e with those simple instructions, they’d stick around, talking about the job or funny things that had happened to them or stories about Parker. Everyone seemed to have stories about Parker. The woman was a cross between a warrior and a goddess in that club. I hadn’t witnessed either — just a highly capable businesswoman who seemed to be everywhere at once.

  “Back to work, ladies,” she’d say calmly when a gaggle of dancers had congregated up in my DJ booth. “Jennet, don’t be shy about telling them to leave you be. You have work to do, and so do they.”

  “I don’t mind them,” I said. “If I know them better, I can do my job better, too.”

  But all that interaction took a lot out of me, and I found myself having to drag myself up the stairs and down the hall to my apartment at the end of each night. One night, I didn’t even realize I had company in that hallway until it was too late to do anything about it.

  I hadn’t seen Nick in so long that it actually scared me to run into him in the corridor. He was coming out of his apartment just as I was walking up to mine.

  “Oh, hey,” he said. “Have you been extra busy, or what? I haven’t seen you in forever.”

  “Yeah, super busy,” I confirmed, sidling by him and unlocking my door. It was hard to predict his hours he kept these days, especially since I’d been trying to actively avoid him. If I were trying harder, I would’ve figured out his schedule. The truth was that I missed him.

  “Well, I won’t keep you, then,” he said, turning to go to whatever location he’d been haunting lately.

  “Nick, wait.” He turned back to me, his eyebrows raised in question, and I swallowed nervously. “Why don’t we hang out anymore?”

  He jammed his hands into his jeans pockets and shrugged. “I thought maybe you didn’t want to anymore.”