Accepting Cherry

by Chrissy Snyder

  “I want you out,” I tell her, my voice firm. She can tell from my body language that I’m pissed, but she’s still very surprised.

  “Out? Wait…. what? But why?” Why didn’t I ever notice how whiny she was before? I pull out my phone and open up the pictures that Carly had shown me. Now that I know it’s Mark, I easily see the resemblance. I hold the phone out for her to see and I watch as all the color drains from her face and her eyes drop to the floor. She isn’t really surprised, likely wondering when this would happen. Her hands are folded together and I see her knuckles get super white while a lone tear streaks down her face. I cared about this woman and I’m sorry she’s hurting, but these are choices she made herself. I didn’t force them on her.

  “I’m sorry,” she says softly. “Things were feeling off between us and I wanted to be sure I was making the right decision.” At this her face comes up and her eyes meet mine.

  “I’m sure,” she says while staring intently into my eyes. “I want you. I choose you,” she says. I snort derisively. I can’t believe her audacity. The picture I had shown her didn’t show any cheating of any kind, so the fact that she’s trying to fight it, to fight for me just goes to show how conniving she really is.

  “I’m sure too,” I tell her and I see a smile creep over her face, as she obviously is misunderstanding what I’m saying. “I’m sure you were riding my brother’s cock no less than five hours ago and now you’re feeding me this bullshit.” I watch as the realization comes over her and wait to see if she’ll deny it.

  “I can’t be with someone who cheats. You know that.” I had talked to her about my childhood and how my Dad’s cheating had impacted me. She knew that I wouldn’t accept it or forgive it. I think part of her wanted to get caught, and to get out of our relationship, but the other part of her wanted the elaborate wedding. She’s watching my face and can tell that I’m serious and not going to change my mind. My intent is clear. She nods her head, tears streaking down her face. I think she’s accepting of her new reality. Thank fuck for small mercies.

  “I’ll leave for the evening and be back tomorrow to pack everything up. I’ll give you your key back tomorrow.” I’m shaking my head at her and gritting my teeth. I’m still pissed off. No apology or anything. What an utter bitch. How had I not seen this before?

  “You can leave the key with me now,” I say through gritted teeth. “I’ll be here tomorrow at two and you can pack up then.” I’m firm on this. There is no way she’s keeping a key to my place. Either way I’ll arrange to have the locks changed immediately. Mandy nods her head in agreement, defeat evident in the slump of her shoulders.

  “I’m just going to put some jeans on and grab my purse,” she says and walks back to the bedroom to change. It doesn’t take her long before she’s out and standing in front of me once again. I hold my hand out for the keys, watching as hers shake while she pulls them off of her key ring.

  “For the record,” she says. “I’m sorry.” I nod at her, my eyes wary. I open the door for her and watch as she walks out. I shut the door behind her and it feels like a large weight has been lifted off of my shoulders. It’s as if I shut the door on one part of my life, but another one has opened with endless opportunities ahead of me.

  Chapter Twelve

  Cherry

  I’ve been up and ready to go since early this morning, excited about this new opportunity for me. I know I can do this. I can become a different person and play a role for the stage, but still my legs are jittery and my palms wet. I’m meeting with Roger to go over the house rules, discuss my monthly allowance and my salary as well. I gave my notice to Mr. Roland, who was sad to see me go, saying I was one of his best employees. Part of me was sad too, but The Dinner Roll was an end to that part of my life and Pair-a-dice is the beginning of the rest of my life.

  Roger informed me of a place he has for me to rent, the main floor of a house. He asked me to bring all of my things to the meeting this morning so he could show me where it was. I don’t understand why he is being so kind to me and I hope that I am not being taken advantage of. I’m too fragile right now and wouldn’t be able to deal with the disappointment.

  I have about 4 grocery bags full of clothes and my box of memories. I leave my key on the bed with all the linens folded up neatly, along with a thank you note for Mr. Roland. I intend to come back another time so I can thank him in person, although I did when I gave him my notice. It just feels like my words aren’t enough to express the gratitude I feel. I hurry to grab my things, shutting the door behind me and running outside to make it to the bus stop. I don’t have to wait long before it arrives as I step on, ready for the rest of my life.

  The bus pulls up about a block away from Roger’s club. I step off and push my shoulders back, putting a new resolve into how I’m going to face the world from here on in. This is my chance to make something of myself and I’m going to take it and run with it. I pull the door open and walk inside, looking around and taking in as much as I can. It’s a nice club, high end. The furnishings are all new and dark colored with comfortable chairs, benches, and L-shaped couches surrounding several stages with one major stage in the center. Cages hang from the ceiling of the club and there are two more cages strategically placed in the corner of a dance floor, but suspended up high with swings in them. The club is currently open, but very quiet. There are two girls sitting in the swings, wearing lingerie, and swinging slowly back and forth as a few businessmen sit nearby and lazily watch them while drinking their beer.

  “Can I help you?” I’m startled out of my thoughts when I hear a voice behind me. I turn to see an older woman who is very striking. She’s beautiful. Her hair is a silver color and cut into a long bob, framing her oval face perfectly. She has silver-gray eyes that have a slight tilt at the ends. Those eyes are watching me carefully, looking for something, but I’m not sure what.

  “I’m here to see Roger,” I say while holding her gaze.

  “I’m Joanne. Follow me,” she says, turning away and walking down the hall. I’m taken aback by her abrupt demeanor, but then shrug it off, putting it down to her having a bad day. We reach an office door, which is closed. She knocks once and opens it, walking in unannounced. I see Roger sitting behind his desk and he’s reading something on his laptop.

  “Sorry about that,” he says while turning his attention away from his laptop, pulling his glasses off. “Have a seat,” he says pointing to one of the chairs in front of his desk. I pull out one of the chairs and Joanne does the same.

  “So,” he says while steepling his fingers under his chin. “Are you ready for this?” I smile and nod at him.

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I say smiling. At my response Joanne let’s out an unladylike snort. I turn to look at her and I can’t keep the pissed off expression off of my face. Roger is watching us intently.

  “I don’t think you’ll be able to do this,” she says snidely. “You don’t have the balls. You’re too sweet and soft. You don’t have any life experience to bring to the table.” I look at her, thinking that this must be some sort of test, but still Roger does or says nothing to intervene. I don’t know what comes over me, but I am sick and tired of everyone stepping all over me. I am not a damn carpet. That shit ends today.

  “Why the hell do you think your opinion matters to me? I’ve got plenty of life experience, more than I would like,” I spit out at her. She quirks an eyebrow at me and smiles, now nodding at Roger.

  “Well Ok,” he says quietly. “You passed Joanne’s test. If she thinks you can do it, then I have all the faith that you can. She has a knack for reading people and she’s never steered me wrong. She’s my partner and has trained every single one of my girls. If she doesn’t give the go ahead then I don’t proceed.” I’m really angry now and I can’t stop myself from lashing out.

  “You let me quit my job and this wasn’t a sure thing until I passed her test?” I ask angrily, jerking my thumb in her direction. “How could you do that to me? You
assured me I had the job. You didn’t say I was interviewing for a position.” I’m spitting mad now. It’s not like I’m swimming in cash. I have no savings to live on to be in between jobs. I watch as he holds his hands up. He’s trying to calm me down. I see out of the corner of my eye that Joanne is smiling broadly now. Some fucking test.

  “Relax,” he says. “You have the job, and you always did. I wasn’t sure though if you would have been better suited at being a hostess or a bartender versus a dancer. That was the only question in my mind.” I blow out a breath and calm down.

  “Here,” he says while shoving something across the desk to me. I pick it up and see that it’s an employee keycard, which grants me access to the back door. I smile as I grab it.

  “Just covering my bases,” he tells me with a smile. “You might want to get a lanyard for it to wear around your neck or something to hook it to your keychain.” I nod my head nervously as it’s all becoming real to me. This feels so wrong, but at the same time, so right. Someone that’s been in my shoes no longer worries about virtues. I shrug my shoulders to brush it off. If something happens I’ll deal with it then. For now, I’m just going to roll with it.

  “Here’s a stack of paperwork you’ll need to complete, including providing me with a copy of a VOID check for payroll purposes.” Roger goes over all the boring details with me, Joanne intervening when he forgets important information.

  “We also need to talk money,” he says leaning back in his chair, his eyes scrutinizing every move I make. I school myself to remain calm and professional, readying myself for the negotiations to begin.

  “Typically dancers pay the club manager a stage fee, sort of like renting the stage for your dance.” I nod my head as this is exactly what my research revealed and I’m glad that so far it doesn’t appear as if he is trying to take advantage of me.

  “You will be paid on a weekly basis.” He writes a figure down on a piece of paper and slides it over to me.

  I look at it and then back at him and ask, “What’s this?”

  “That is your minimum weekly salary, but there is always room for bonus depending on how good you do and how many customers you bring back in. That dollar amount includes a clothing allowance that you’re expected to use wisely. Joanne will go over the types of costumes and lingerie that are best suited for Pair-a-dice.” My mouth drops open as I look at the number, and my heart beats faster in my chest. He wants to pay me five hundred dollars a week to take off my clothes? I still haven’t said a word and feel as if my mouth must look like a fish as it opens and then closes on repeat.

  “The tips you make are your own, but you are expected to give ten percent of your nightly earnings to the DJ. Our bar staff is given the same expectation and they also give a portion of their tips to the DJ.

  “That’s reasonable,” I say while clearing my throat. I had planned this all out how I was going to sound professional and I feel like a fish out of water.

  “As I said, Joanne will go over lingerie choices with you. We have several stores we use on a regular basis and you’ll be given the employee-discounted rate. Even when outside of work it’s important to me for you to look your best. The message I want to send is that my girls always look sexy. I don’t want to hear about you running around in ratty sweats from clients, so be sure to keep up sex appeal. I look away guiltily, thinking of the day I’d gone to the gym in my ratty clothing. I shrug it off and smile to myself. With my new salary and tips I’ll be sure to have some cute outfits to wear to the gym.

  “Yes,” Joanne interrupts quietly. “Even when grocery shopping we want you to look your best. The best mindset is to remember that you never know who will see you out and about. A nice pair of tight jeans and high boots or heels of some type with a skin tight shirt would be a great look for shopping.” I look at her and nod as I bite my tongue. I want to roll my eyes at their examples, because I’m pretty sure I can pull off sexy. My issue to date has been finances not lack of knowledge. I’m well aware my clothing is threadbare and worn.

  “It’s a high end club, not a two bit strip joint that’s seen better days with dancers that are too tired and done in to draw in clientele.” This is coming from Roger who has a thoughtful look on his face. “I think you’ll pull in a list of new clients, and if you do well you’ll be rewarded. I take care of those that take care of me.”

  “Thank you, Roger. I’ll be sure to consider you and Pair-a-dice even when away from work so that I hold myself to a higher standard and ensure I’m representing you the way you would like.” I want to expel a loud breath as I finish speaking, but instead look to Joanne and smile.

  “C’mon,” she says. “Follow me.”

  Joanne leads me to the back and shows me to the dressing room.

  “This is your spot and your name will be above your mirror as soon as the sign is finished being made.” She’s assigned a spot to me already with my own dressing mirror, chair, and a small closet. She opens the closet door and inside is every costume you could imagine: hot nurse, hot cop, you name it and she has it.

  “All of these costumes and outfits were mine. They’ve been laundered and are clean, now ready to use and they are all yours.” My mouth drops open in shock and I’m again flustered at the generosity I’m being shown.

  “Thank you, Joanne. I’ll be sure to take care of them.” I run my fingers gingerly down the material, fingering the soft lace.

  “Hopefully these outfits will save you some money, at least for the first several months. You can stock away some of the lingerie allowance so you can get what you want.”

  “Yes, that’s a great idea,” I say to her while nodding my head. “Thank you again…for your generosity and your kindness.” She reaches out and pats my shoulder while giving me a small smile.

  “Alright,” she says abruptly. “Time for a makeup lesson.” I laugh aloud and sit in my chair, very eager for what she’ll teach me.

  ***

  Joanne has spent the entire day with me, teaching me how to apply my makeup so that it doesn’t look like I overdid it, but that it still shows up under the stage lights. I feel like such a girl. I feel beautiful. She hands me the large makeup kit she has been using, informing me it is mine, purchased just for me and for my coloring.

  All day she has patiently showed me how to manage and care for my very thick and wavy hair so that it tumbles down my back in a sexy sea of blonde. I’ve never had a girlfriend so the time she spent with me has been special in more ways than I can explain.

  I reach out and grab her hands, looking into her startled face. “Thank you, Joanne. I’m truly grateful for the kindness you’ve extended to me.”

  She withdraws one of her hands from mine and rubs my arm while saying, “Anytime.”

  The entire day has been devoted to getting me up to par on what I’m expected to do and look like. We went over music selection and dance routines. It turns out that I’m a natural at moving my body in a sensual manner. I love to close my eyes and let the music move me, not just physically but emotionally as well. Joanne tells me I should listen to my gut, because it’s never wrong. I suppose when looking back at the things that happened to me, she’s probably right. I just didn’t pay attention to the signs and now I mentally kick myself for being so naive.

  Joanne and I actually ended up hitting it off and she had me laughing several times throughout the day. She assured me several times that I’m going to do well and says she’ll be here on my first night cheering me on. She listened to me patiently while I poured out a bit of what happened to me in increments throughout the day. She’s had to stop and wipe her eyes and blow her nose several times already. She even apologized for insinuating that I didn’t have enough life experience.

  Joanne has made me feel a sense of pride by telling me how proud she is of me for going after my GED the way I did. She said with everything I had been through it’s a wonder that I was able to keep up such good grades. I smiled and blushed at her praise. I couldn’t help it. I’ve nev
er had anyone give me that kind of a compliment.

  She hugs me again as I turn from looking at myself in the mirror, completely blown away at the way I look, feeling more confident than I’ve felt in years. I’m ready to do this. I feel like this is the right move for me. My life is turning around. It’s becoming different. I can feel it.

  “Hey Ladies.” Roger’s booming voice startles both of us and we burst out laughing at the same time. “How are things progressing?”

  “She’s doing great and she’ll be more than ready for her debut.” He starts smiling when he hears Joanne’s progress report, nodding his head happily. He fishes in his pockets and hands me a ring of keys.

  “What are these for?”

  “The red key is for the back door here that you need to use simultaneously with your keycard, the blue key is for your apartment, and the green key is for your car.”

  I look at him with a question in my eyes. “My car? I don’t have a car. I take a bus.”

  He laughs and shakes his head at me. “None of my girls take a bus. It isn’t safe. This is your car as long as you work for me. It’s an investment I make in the girls I think are going to go far. If you stick with me, the car remains yours, as does the apartment. I would expect that after a year you consider getting your own place, so that I have a place available for a new hire.”

  I nod my head, feeling as if I’m in shock. He’s giving all of this to me? Why? “What’s the catch?” There is always a catch. I’ve been used and abused and no one is kind for no reason whatsoever, at least not anyone I’ve met so far in my life.

  “There is no catch,” he says, almost sounding angry or frustrated with me. “You work late hours and I can’t afford for you to be injured, or worse, so all the girls get a car. It’s not free if that’s what you’re thinking. You’ll be working it off and a deduction will occur on your pay each week.” It’s hard for me to accept handouts. I’ve worked so hard for everything in my life. Even when we lost everything I still hung on to my pride. I was, however, taught gratitude, and I’m thankful for all the people that have helped me like Mrs. Arnold, Mr. Roland, and now Joanne and Roger.