by Brian Harmon
The clientele was mostly blue collar workers knocking back beers after work. Only a few of them seemed to be alone, and those few already looked half-smashed.
The bar was impressive, though. It took up half the rear wall, with two bartenders bustling behind it. One was a short, slick-looking bald man that Eric for some reason immediately did not trust. He reminded him for some reason of a sleazy used car salesman. But the other was a somewhat plump, friendly-looking blonde.
Please let it be her, he thought as he approached the bottom of the ramp.
He had to step aside to let two of the bar’s bouncers by. They were both huge, like the guy at the cash register. Where the hell did they find these guys? He thought bouncers were supposed to look like heavyweight wrestlers. These guys were built more like sumo wrestlers. While they sported massive arms and legs and necks, it was impossible to see any actual muscle tone. They looked less like bouncers than the guys who ate the bouncers.
Another was lingering near the bottom of the ramp, watchfully observing the room. This one had a large, round, bearded head that was almost completely covered in soft, brown hair. Eric thought he looked like an enormous, chubby monkey, although he had no intention of telling him so.
He intentionally walked past the slick bald man and approached the bar in front of the blonde. Raising his voice to be heard over the loud music, he said, “I’m looking for Holly.”
In a perfect world, the woman would have replied that she was Holly and that she could talk to him right now, outside, far from the naked people. But instead, she pointed over his shoulder. “That’s her on stage two,” she told him. “The redhead.”
Eric thought a very bad word, but managed to smile and thank the nice bartender for her help.
Taking a deep breath, he turned around and walked toward the stage, weaving around the cramped tables as he went.
He hadn’t looked very closely at either of the women who were dancing. He didn’t want to. It was embarrassing. Besides, he was a married man. He had no business even being here. But now he actually had to talk to one of them.
He watched her as he approached. She had long, wavy hair, tied back in a cute little ponytail that dangled almost to the small of her back. It was natural, he saw to his dismay. The carpet matched the curtains, his brother would’ve said.
He felt his whole face growing hot. God, he hated this.
She was remarkably pretty, with a cute little upturned nose and pouty lips. She was small, but long-legged, with a tiny waist and perfect, larger-than-average breasts. She also had a little star tattoo on her hip.
He didn’t know much about this kind of dancing, but he thought she was remarkably good at it. Her movements were almost fluid. She never quite stopped moving.
He stopped between the last two rows of tables and glanced around at the other spectators around him. Most were actually only half watching the show. They looked more concerned with their drinks and conversations. Did these people really spend so much time here that these girls had become little more than background noise?
Something seemed terribly wrong about that.
Glancing at the stage on the left, he saw that the other woman had come completely out of her costume now and was shaking a massive pair of fake breasts at her audience.
He should’ve ordered a drink while he was at the bar.
Suddenly, he felt slender fingers on his shoulder. “Can I get you anything, handsome?”
Eric turned toward the voice and found himself staring at the tall woman with the short, black hair.
No, what he was staring at was her naked breasts. She was considerably taller than he’d first thought. With the stilettos on, he found himself at eye-level with…well…not her eyes. He jerked his head upward and forced himself to meet her gaze. “No, thank you,” he stammered. “I’m just meeting someone.”
She gave him an amused smile. “I can keep you company until they arrive, if you want.”
“That’s nice of you, but I’m not very talkative.”
“You don’t have to talk.”
Eric wasn’t sure what to say to that. He had the distinct feeling that she was enjoying making him feel uncomfortable. Maybe she could sense that he wasn’t like the other patrons here, that he didn’t come here just to stare at naked women. Maybe she found him disarming.
Or maybe he simply looked like the kind of sucker who would just keep handing her his money until he was broke.
“I’m fine. Thanks.”
She swept her sultry eyes up and down him and smiled. She gave his cheek a gentle caress with her fingers and said, “Let me know if you change your mind.” Then she turned away, making sure to brush her naked bottom against the back of his hand as she did.
And now that’s happened, he thought as she walked sexily away from him.
He turned his gaze back to the girl he came here for. He needed to get this over with. But how the hell was he supposed to talk to her up there?
His cell phone chimed at him. The sound was lost under the blaring music, but he felt the little vibration it gave when he received a text.
I THINK YOU’RE SUPPOSED TO PUT MONEY IN HER GARTER THINGY
“Oh dear god no.”
YOU WANT TO LET HER KNOW YOU’RE HERE OR NOT?
Eric sighed. He supposed she was right. What if she finished her dance and disappeared into the dressing room or something. He couldn’t waste time waiting for a convenient moment to catch her alone.
He tried to remember if he had any singles in his wallet.
DON’T BE A CHEAPSKATE. AT LEAST GIVE HER A TEN
“It cost me eleven just to get in here!”
Suddenly, his vision was eclipsed by a massive figure directly in front of him. He looked up from the phone and found himself staring into the expansive chest of one of the club’s elephantine bouncers. This one had a burly moustache that looked like it would make it hard to enjoy an ice cream cone.
“No pictures,” the giant boomed at him.
Eric stared up at him, not comprehending. Then he looked down at his phone again and understood. “Oh. No. Just a text. From my wife,” he lied. He lifted the phone and showed it to him.
The massive man bent slightly and examined the phone’s screen. Then he let out a huff of a laugh and nodded. “Just remember. No pictures allowed. Respect the ladies, please.”
Eric nodded. “Yes, sir.”
The man looked at the phone again and shook his head, his moustache rippling with a grin. Then he lumbered away.
Eric looked at the screen, curious about what made the man laugh.
IF I FIND OUT YOU’RE AT THAT DISGUSTING BAR AGAIN, I SWEAR I’LL FEED YOUR BALLS TO THE DOG!
“Nice.”
GLAD TO HELP
Eric stuffed the phone back into his pocket and withdrew his wallet.
A ten? Really? “If Karen finds out about this, I’m telling her it was all you.”
He pushed his way past the last row of tables and stepped up to the stage. The girl barely looked old enough to be here. She was nineteen at most. What kind of hard life must have led her into an existence like this?
Now how was he supposed to do this? Should he wash his hands first or something?
He glanced around the room. This was so embarrassing. He hoped the colorful lights up here hid the bright red blush he felt creeping into his cheeks.
She caught sight of him standing there with his money in hand and danced gracefully toward him. She did a few turns and dips for him and then dropped into a far-too revealing sort of squat directly in front of his face and bit her lip seductively.
Oh dear Jesus, he thought.
Up close, she was even lovelier. She had remarkably pretty eyes. They were bluish green, almost teal. Trying hard to meet those eyes and nothing else, he raised his voice just enough to be heard over the music and said, “Delphinium sent me for you.”
Immediately, the girl’s expression changed from playfully seductive to surprised and then rapidly to wor
ried. She glanced quickly around the room and then regained her composure.
She never stopped dancing. She was good. He guessed…
She turned to the side, offering him her garter.
Awkwardly, and still blushing like a schoolgirl, he slid Alexander Hamilton between the lacy strap and the silky smooth skin of her thigh.
He loved Karen. With all his heart. After this day was over, he hoped to God she let him live.
“Have a seat in one of the booths,” she told him, her small voice barely audible over the loud music. She gestured toward the side of the room. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
Then she blew him a kiss and gave him a playful shake of her naked chest.
That was for the other people in the bar, he realized, so no one would be suspicious, he guessed. Probably so she wouldn’t get in trouble. She was working, after all. On duty, as it was…
She stood up and gracefully floated across the stage, turning her attention to another admirer who had approached on the other side of the stage.
Overhead, a crackly voice on the audio system announced the arrival of someone named Limber Lucy and a dark haired, skinny woman who looked to be in her late thirties emerged onto the third stage in a revealingly short, skin-tight dress adorned in patriotic stars and stripes.
He didn’t think she was there to rally everyone to vote.
Chapter Six
Eric bought a beer at the bar. He really felt like he needed it.
On his way back to the booth, he pulled out his cell phone again. “How do you know so much about strip club etiquette, anyway?”
THIRTY-SEVEN YEARS OF WATCHING TELEVISION THROUGH MY DAD’S HEAD, OF COURSE
That made sense. Eric sometimes forgot that she had the same connection with her parents that she had with him. She didn’t talk about them much. As far as they knew, she was dead. They hadn’t seen her in thirty-seven years.
She could just call them up now that she was no longer trapped inside the Altrusk house, but what would she say? They’d think it was a cruel joke.
Her connection to them was how she’d kept up with the world outside her strange prison walls. She saw the everyday world through them. They read the paper and watched the news and enjoyed prime time television. Therefore, so did she. It was why she didn’t talk like a girl from the seventies, and why she knew so much. Her mind was sharp and fairly well-informed. She had all the mental advantage of a well-read forty-nine-year-old with all the physical capabilities of a thirteen-year-old.
He found an empty booth and sat down with his back to the stage. He didn’t care to see Lucy unfurl her flags. And he’d seen more than enough of Pocahontas’ wigwams, too. He’d never been so uncomfortable in his life. His mouth was dry. His stomach was in knots. And he was pretty sure his blood pressure was up.
An old man with a straggly beard stumbled toward him, sloshing a good portion of what was clearly not his first beer of the evening onto the floor, and seated himself at the nearest table. Eric watched him as he sat and turned his attention to the dancing girls. It didn’t look like his eyes wanted to focus. He scrunched up his face, closed one eye, tilted his head to one side, then the other. Then he lifted a shaky finger and pointed at each of the girls. He looked like he was trying to determine exactly how many of them were up there.
Before he could finish counting, the tall, short-haired woman strolled past in her stilettos and his one open eye and wobbly finger wandered after her instead.
He couldn’t quite decide if the old man was amusing or just sad.
His phone rang. It was Karen.
Eric groaned. Just who he wanted to talk to while sitting in a room with five naked women.
But at least she’d finally decided to call.
“Hello?” he begrudgingly answered.
“Where are you?”
“It was a long drive and I’m tired, but thanks for asking.”
“I said, where are you?”
“I know. I thought it was kind of rude. You’re not very good at taking a hint.”
“You really want to talk about poor manners?”
Eric sighed. She wasn’t much fun when she lost her sense of humor. “I’m in some bar in some cornfield in some backwoods county in Illinois.”
“You’re in a bar?”
“I needed a drink.”
Ordinarily she rolled with his silly remarks, but that was clearly the wrong thing to say. “Our check-in is at two o’clock Friday afternoon. I specifically requested an early check-in.”
“I’ll be there. Don’t—”
“You are not going to embarrass me by making me explain to the hotel desk why we requested an early check-in if we weren’t going to get there early—”
“I don’t see why they’d make you explain…”
“—just because you needed a drink.”
“I’ll be back in time.”
“What kind of music is that?”
“What music? I can’t hear anything over this noise.”
“Cute. I thought you went down there to help that kid’s mom.”
“I am.”
“By getting loaded in a bar?”
“Who’s getting loaded? I’m having one beer while I wait to meet someone.”
“Isabelle told me she was hot.”
Eric sat up straighter. “What? Who’s hot?”
“The kid’s mom.”
Delphinium? “Why would Isabelle tell you that?”
“Because I asked her.”
“Why would you ask something like that?”
“Is she?”
“Is she what?”
“Is she hot?”
“I don’t know! She’s not my type.”
“Isn’t she?”
“No. You’re my type.”
“Then why aren’t you here with me getting ready for our anniversary weekend?”
He was beginning to think she was actually enjoying this. “I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
“Why can’t you come home now?”
A wave of anger washed through him. “Because this is important,” he snapped. “People are dying down here.”
The loud music abruptly stopped and a voice boomed over the speakers. “Let’s give a big round of applause for the always gorgeous Holly!”
Eric let his head thump against the surface of the table as the room filled with the enthusiastic sounds of clapping and whistling.
“What did that guy just say?” demanded Karen.
“I didn’t catch it,” groaned Eric. “Something about this being the worst road trip ever, I think.”
“Are you in a strip bar?”
“It wasn’t my idea. I swear.”
“You’re in a strip bar!”
“One of the girls who’s in danger works here.”
“So you’re there for one of the strippers?”
Oh god… “Maybe…”
“You’ve got to be kidding me!”
“I wish I was.” He should never have answered the damn phone. What possessed him to answer the damn phone? That was stupid. Why couldn’t he stop doing stupid things?
“Tell Isabelle to call me right now!” she snapped. And then she was gone.
“Hello?” He looked down at the phone. The screen now read, “Call ended.”
While he was staring at it, a text message popped up: OH GREAT, NOW YOU GOT ME IN TROUBLE TOO
Eric dropped the phone onto the table and took a large swig from his beer.
Could this day get any worse?
The answer, of course, was yes.
Holly appeared beside him. “Sorry about that.”
Eric looked up at her and almost choked on his beer. He thought she was going to put her clothes back on, but here she was sliding into the booth next to him, still wearing nothing but the necktie and garter. All she’d done was take off the glasses.
He looked away and took another swig from his beer.
“If I don’t stay out there the full time, I get in tro
uble. Have to please the customers.”
Right, he thought. Wouldn’t want the pervos to revolt.
She was sitting far too close to him for comfort, her thigh actually pressed against his. “I’m on break, but I’m still not really supposed to be socializing. You want me to give you a lap dance so we look like we’re being professional?”
“Please no,” he begged, not even bothering to point out that the words “lap dance” and “professional” had very little business being used in the same sentence together. “I’m just here to take you back to Delphinium.”
He looked around the room, embarrassed, and saw that the old man at the next table was now sitting with his head propped on one hand, starring sleepily at Holly with a wistful sort of smile on his shriveled face.
Eric could hardly blame the poor man.
Holly sat with her back straight, her body turned toward him and her naked breasts thrust proudly forward. There was a light sheen of sweat upon her skin from dancing, so that she glistened in the colorful lights. He could see a faint dusting of glitter on her cheeks and breasts.
Meanwhile, those lovely eyes were wide and concerned. So much about her looked so innocent. It was such a stark contrast to this place and what she was doing that he could scarcely comprehend it.
“How do you know Del?” she asked.
Eric wasn’t sure how to proceed.
Her soft eyes widened a little more. “Is this about what happened to Grandpa?”
Eric nodded. “You’re in danger.”
Holly clasped one small hand over her mouth. The gesture was adorable.
“It’ll be okay. But we need to get you out of here now.”
She reached out and placed her hand over his. If he’d been ten years younger and single, he was sure her touch would be intoxicating. Instead, it just made that hot, slimy knot in his belly that much tighter. “That’s what Del said?”
Eric nodded.