Fake Zoned: A Fake Date Anthology

by Malone, M.

  “I’ll be fine. They’re just boobs, right? Not like I’ll be showing them anything they haven’t seen before.”

  It’s kind of pathetic that I’m so worried about this. I’m just a waitress here so most of the guys aren’t looking at me.

  “You don’t have to pretend like it doesn’t bother you. I know you better than that,” Sasha declares.

  The thing is, she’s right. It does bother me. I actually have nothing against nudity as long as it isn’t mine. Maybe if I had more confidence, or more cleavage, I think as I look down at my small chest, I’d be okay with this.

  Lattimer tried to convince me to get on stage when I first started working here but I shut that down early. I was blushing for the first week straight as it was just because of the short skirts we wear. No one wants to see me hyperventilate if I were to get on stage and undress.

  There’s nothing sexy about cardiac arrest.

  Sasha moves closer and puts her arm around my shoulders. For just a moment, I lean in. It’s been so long since I’ve had a comforting hug. Then I immediately feel guilty for the thought.

  It’s not like I’m completely alone in the world. I have Ivy.

  “Okay, I have to confess.” Sasha squeezes my shoulder. “I did something. You’re probably going to be mad at me, but I don’t care.”

  “You didn’t say anything to Lattimer, did you? I’ll get fired.”

  She shakes her head, her long black braids swinging gently around her face. “No, I didn’t talk to that little weasel. But he might wish I had once my friends get done with him.”

  Sasha’s best friend is marrying some guy who owns a security company. The way Sasha describes it, he basically commands his own private army. She’s been threatening to call in a squadron of bodyguards for a few weeks now. I didn’t think she’d actually do it.

  “This is only going to make things worse. He’s going to be pissed.”

  It’s not like I didn’t know this was a strip club when I started. I’m used to waiting tables and letting drunk guys feel me up in exchange for tips. But Lattimer has suddenly decided I need to fit in more with the other waitresses. I’ve always been able to wear my black skirt and short belly top.

  Now he wants me to wear this.

  I look down at the bikini top in my hand. It’s yellow and sparkly, sending iridescent beams of light back up into my eyes. It shouldn’t be such a big deal. People wear less sunbathing at the beach. Well, not me. I’ve always worn one-piece suits.

  “You’re not the only reason I called him,” Sasha whispers.

  She avoids my eyes and takes a small sip from her cup. Steam curls up between us in little wisps.

  “Did he threaten you?” I whisper.

  The thought of Lattimer bullying her fills me with helpless rage. Sasha is one of the only girls here who stands up to him. As a result, he singles her out more than the others when he’s on one of his tirades.

  “Yeah but I can handle him. It’s the rest of you guys I’m worried about. I’ve seen the way he looks at you, Em.”

  Something inside me shrivels up at just the thought. He’s easily old enough to be my father. My thoughts must be written clearly on my face because Sasha suddenly bursts out laughing.

  “If you could see your face right now!”

  I start giggling, too. I’m sure my face probably looked like I’d just bitten into a lemon because that’s how I feel when I think of him. Like I have a sour taste in my mouth that I can’t get rid of.

  “But seriously, I know you haven’t said anything because you need the job but no one should have to put up with this crap for a paycheck. Someone needs to put him in his place. Luckily, I know just the guy for the job.”

  “Your friend’s boyfriend must be pretty scary.”

  Sasha makes a small murmur of agreement. “Yeah, he’s pretty intense. Lattimer is going to pee his pants. I must admit I’m looking forward to watching Eli make that little worm squirm.”

  I bump her shoulder lightly. “Thanks, Sasha.”

  She grins back at me and yanks the yellow sequins out of my hand.

  “You’re welcome. And you’re not wearing this one. Come on. I have some time before my set. If you’re going to show a little more skin, let’s find something that doesn’t make you look like a broken stoplight.”

  Chapter Five

  Tank

  I’m just settling on the couch with a bag of chips and a beer when my phone vibrates on the coffee table. When I see the name on the screen, it brings a genuine smile to my face.

  "Hey boss, miss me already?"

  I'm joking but in a way I'm not. My boss and I are pretty tight. He gave me a job when I wasn't sure what the hell I was going to do with myself.

  My Army Special Forces training doesn't exactly line up with any of the typical job listings. Recon, tracking people, shooting shit, I'm your guy. I wasn't sure how I was going to fit into a typical nine-to-five situation when Elliott gave me a job with his private security firm.

  "Tank? Hey, how are things going? How’s your brother?”

  I didn't tell Eli the full truth about why I needed time off. He knows my mom has been sick and that my brother is an injured vet but I left out the part about Daddy Warbucks. I figured that was too weird to share.

  "He's doing about the same. I’ve been checking on him every few days to make sure he’s taking his meds."

  "Sorry, that sounds rough. If you need more time, just let me know. Actually, I was calling to see if you had time to do a job. Off the books."

  I sit up straight. My boss is a straight arrow type, most of the time. Of course some of the stuff I overheard on our last job has proven he has secrets just like everyone else.

  "What's the job?"

  “It’s at a club. The Black Kitty. I just wanted you to look in on a friend who's being harassed by her boss. Make sure she's okay. Bust a few heads if you have to but I'd rather you keep your hands clean if possible."

  "Who's the friend?" I can hear the edge in my voice as I ask the question.

  “It’s Sasha. I know you two don’t exactly get along.”

  "Aw, hell. She hates me. Sending me there is bound to just piss her off."

  Sasha is a close friend of Eli’s fiancee’ and we have a mutual hatred-on-first-sight thing going on.

  "I know the last time you saw her things were tense but I think she'll be glad to see you now. Kay says things are pretty bad. I think her boss has been pressuring her to do more than sing, if you know what I'm saying. He’s doing the same thing to some of the other girls, too.”

  Eli did a background check on me before I was hired so I'm sure he knows my mom was a stripper back in the day. I grew up in and out of clubs like the Black Kitty so I have some personal history with the kind of men who run them.

  If Sasha's boss is pressuring her for anything she's not willing to give, I'll consider it a public service to introduce his face to my knuckles.

  "I'll do it," I say quietly.

  “Thank you. Sorry to bother you while you’re off but I’m in DC this week wrapping up some stuff and Kay just told me. I’d love to take care of it myself but thanks. I’ll owe you one.”

  "Trust me, it'll be my pleasure."

  Less than ten minutes later I’m straddling my bike. The Black Kitty is the next city over, Virginia Beach, so it won’t take long to get there.

  The traffic is light and I weave in and out of lanes to reach the club. It’s nothing more than an old warehouse that’s been converted. It looks like a tin box sitting in the middle of a gravel parking lot. I stow my helmet on the back of my bike and walk past the line of people waiting to get in. One of the guys backs up a step and bumps into me.

  “Hey, watch it!” He takes one look at me and holds up his hands. “Oh … sorry dude. My bad.”

  I keep walking until I reach the front of the line. There’s a guy manning the door who’s the size of a mountain wearing huge diamond earrings. His pale head gleams bald under the neon lights ov
er the door.

  “You must be Tank. I’m Lou. Sasha’s in the back getting dressed. Once her number is over, she’ll meet you at the bar.”

  I wonder briefly how he knew it was me, and then realize Eli must have called him. We shake hands and he stands back to allow me to enter. Several people in the long line waiting to get in make disgruntled noises but when I turn to face them, the entire line goes silent.

  “The guy who owns this club, Lattimer, he’s a real piece of work. I’ve seen the way he treats some of the girls and I don’t like it. If you need any help, I’ve got your back.”

  “Thanks.” I cross through the dim entrance and into the body of the club.

  It looks like any other bar at first glance, bad techno music, alcohol flowing and guys hitting on girls who aren’t nearly drunk enough to go home with them yet.

  “Tank! What are you doing here?” Sasha doesn’t exactly look happy to see me but at least she’s not hitting me with her purse this time.

  “Eli sent me.”

  She hops up onto the bar stool next to me. She’s wearing a long gold dress covered in some kind of sparkly shit. I know nothing about women’s clothes but I can definitely appreciate that it dips low in the back exposing a ton of caramel-colored skin.

  She’s a beautiful girl with high cheekbones, big brown eyes and long, braided dark hair. If Finn were here, he’d be all over her. He’s always been a ladies’ man.

  “Thanks for coming. Things have been pretty bad lately.”

  “So where is this fucker?” I scan the other people at the bar.

  A bartender is at the other end, pouring colorful drinks and chatting with the two girls leaning over the bar flirtatiously.

  “He’s in the back. He usually doesn’t make his appearance until the end.”

  She leans closer, glancing around before she says, “He’s been making threats, telling a lot of the girls they’ll be let go if they don’t accommodate him.”

  As she says the word her nose scrunches in distaste.

  “My friend was backstage on the verge of tears. She’s just waitressing here trying to earn tuition money. She shouldn’t have to deal with this crap. Oh, here she comes. Emma!”

  I can feel her before I even turn around. Somehow I just know.

  There’s a shift in the air and then she’s next to me, chatting with Sasha. My eyes land on her costume or lack thereof. She’s wearing the tiniest skirt I’ve ever seen and a little bikini top that pushes her breasts up like ripe fruit. It’s covered in purple sequins.

  When her eyes finally land on me, she makes a sound that’s a cross between a groan and a squeak.

  “Tank? Oh my god.”

  She crosses her arms over her chest and the tray she’s carrying falls to the ground. Automatically, I bend to retrieve it which puts me right on eye level with her cleavage.

  Hell.

  * * *

  The silence stretches out painfully as Sasha looks back and forth between us warily. “You two know each other?”

  “No.”

  “Yes.”

  We both speak at the same time. Emma looks appalled. Her hands are still covering the front of her bikini top and from the death glare on her face, I’ll lose an eye if my gaze drops anywhere below her neck.

  It requires a remarkable amount of self-control on my part because the one look I got was spectacular.

  Which of course means I can’t help messing with her a little.

  “Emma Shaw. Is that you? You look … different somehow. I almost didn’t recognize you.”

  She growls and points a finger at my chest. “What are you doing here? Are you stalking me now?”

  The movement exposes the left side of her chest and I’m almost blinded by sparkly purple sequins. I blink and when she notices my gaze, she yanks her hand down covering her chest again.

  “I’m doing what every other red-blooded American guy does on a random Friday night. Having a beer at a club. Visiting a friend.”

  Sasha is watching us with a knowing grin. “How do you two know each other?”

  Emma doesn’t respond so I answer. “I asked Eli to recommend an estate lawyer.”

  Sasha grins. “Let me guess, he recommended Patrick Stevens? Yeah, that makes sense. I’ve done temp work there off and on for several years. That’s how I met Emma, actually. Kay’s family uses him and now Eli does, too. Small world, huh?”

  “Yeah. Small world.” I take another sip of my beer, watching Emma adjust the tiny top shielding her breasts from view.

  A girl wearing a peacock headdress, sparkly red high heels and a red thong runs up to us. “Sasha, where have you been? You’re on next!”

  “Oh crap. I have to go. Thanks for coming, Tank. I really appreciate it. Emma, keep Tank company while I’m on stage, okay?”

  Sasha gathers up the edges of her long dress and then rushes after the peacock girl, leaving Emma and I alone in uncomfortable silence.

  The music is pretty loud and for once, I’m grateful for the eardrum-splitting decibel level of the music.

  Emma snatches the tray I’m holding. “I’m still on the clock. I have to work.”

  “Okay. Don’t let me hold you. I’m going to stick around until after Sasha’s set. Can you do me a favor?”

  “What?” She narrows her eyes.

  “If you see the asshole who’s been bothering Sasha, point him out to me.”

  Her eyes gleam in the shifting colors of the strobe lights on the stage, reflecting blue, orange, and red. She nods quickly. “I will definitely do that. He always walks the floor around eleven o’clock.”

  “Give me your phone.”

  She reaches into the pocket of her skirt and pulls it out. I take it from her fingers and dial my own number. Then I hang up.

  “Text me when you see him.”

  She stares at me for a long moment, and then nods. I watch the sway of her hips as she walks away.

  For the next hour, I listen as Sasha sings everything from jazz standards to covers of popular songs. She has a soft, sultry voice that throbs in your blood and makes you think of twisted sheets and a different kind of rhythm all together.

  My phone buzzes and I pull it out.

  - - - He’s here. In the red suit.

  I look behind me. Emma is standing a few tables away. When she catches my eye, she nods her head to the right.

  There’s a short man with a tragic comb-over walking on the edge of the dance floor. Two large men follow him.

  I toss back the last of my beer before I get up. It’s a lot more crowded now so I have to weave in between tables and pockets of people dancing and talking to reach him. He looks up as I approach.

  “Are you Lattimer?”

  He takes a step forward and his goons crowd in closer, too. I stand to my full height and flex beneath my jacket. It only takes a glance to tell these two won’t be a problem but Eli asked me to keep it clean. So, I’m hoping to avoid a fight.

  “Who wants to know?”

  “I’m a friend of Sasha’s. I’m just here checking things out. I look out for her. Make sure no one bothers her.”

  “Did she say someone was bothering her?”

  “I wanted to see for myself.”

  One of the bodyguards cracks his knuckles and it takes everything I have not to laugh in his face. The most lethal people I’ve ever met don’t need to posture and show off. If you cross them, you’ll be dead and never see them coming.

  “Not so tough now, huh?” Lattimer boasts.

  He pushes me in the chest and then frowns when I don’t even move. But he recovers his tough guy attitude quickly.

  “This is my house. You don’t come in here making threats at me in my own damn house.”

  Sasha comes up behind me. “Let’s go, Tank. I don’t want any trouble.”

  Lattimer scoffs. “You don’t want any trouble? You’ve been trouble since the day you started here.”

  I don’t turn around. Men like Lattimer only understand one thing. Force.
I hold his eyes. He needs to understand I have no problem fucking him up. That knowledge is the only thing that will keep him from screwing with her again.

  One of his goons feints at me, trying to see if I’ll jump back. I can’t help it, I react on instinct, punching him in the throat and then following it with a gut shot. He falls back and knocks into his boss. They both crash into the table behind him.

  Sasha gasps and covers her mouth with her hands. I groan and run my hands through my hair. She’s really going to hate me now.

  “Shit. Sorry. I shouldn’t have done that. Eli said to scare him not to start a fight.”

  She turns to me, her brown eyes suddenly bright with excitement. “Are you kidding? That was awesome.”

  Lattimer stumbles to his feet, knocking into the guys sitting at the table who are obviously drunk. One of them punches wildly at one of the bodyguards. Before long the panic spreads and we’re in the middle of a crowd of people pushing and shoving.

  I’ve been in enough bar fights to know that most of the people throwing punches don’t even know what’s going on.

  “Ouch! Get your hands off me.”

  Emma is caught between a group of guys who are trying to take each other down. She’s jostled back and forth and then stumbles to the side. I shove through the crowd and reach her just as one of the guys swings out wildly, his fist connecting with my side.

  I block his next punch and then shove him back. His buddies apparently want in on the action now because they’ve focused on me.

  The chill I always feel before a good fight settles over me. The next one charges me. I dip low and catch him at the waist, flipping him onto his back. My arms and hands move in a violent dance, punching, blocking and knocking heads together.

  After the first three go down, the rest of their buddies back away slightly.

  Emma whimpers behind me. I reach back and pull her against my back, using my body as a shield to block her from the crowd. Fights still rage around us.

  Sasha appears at my elbow. “Let’s get out of here. This is crazy.”