Electrified

by Rachel Blaufeld

  Not her person of interest, though. The man she had suddenly found both curious and somewhat lust-worthy was gone. He was a ghost after Sienna left the stage, and never engaged in anything more with the other dancers in the few weeks he’d been regularly coming to the Tunnel.

  He always quietly exited as she finished her dancing for the evening. Tonight was no different and for some odd reason, Sienna felt isolated and lonesome. This was uncharted territory for her. Being the center of attraction at Vegas’s most popular adult entertainment venue wasn’t only a business move, but also one for protection. Her role as Sienna existed to keep her secure, and embodying Sienna meant she didn’t get attached to anyone.

  Her safety rested in no one knowing the true her. Developing a relationship with a customer wasn’t only an occupational hazard for any stripper, but a major risk for Lila.

  Forming a bond with a man, other than Asher or the bouncers, meant he might get to know the real person underneath the stripper persona.

  Which was a horrible idea. Disastrous. Period.

  In her newfound state of confusion, Sienna headed out to visit the club floor and check on her “girls.” She caught a glimpse of Asher leading a disgruntled customer up to his office with Big Mike bringing up the rear. Standing by the somewhat hidden stairs to the office, Sienna overheard Asher going ballistic as the threesome climbed the steps.

  “Mike, can you believe this gentleman asked Sadie to go home with him? As if my girls are low-class hookers. Bullshit.”

  She paused by the bottom step so she could hear a bit more. Asher really hadn’t been himself lately.

  “Nah, man. Guy is whacked if he thinks we would allow our sweet little Sadie to do that, or anyone else,” Mike answered with his typical dry humor, while keeping a firm grip on the customer’s shoulder.

  “Well, yeah, it gets better, Mikey boy. He then asked Natalie when Sadie said no.”

  Sienna shook her head. Natalie, of course. That’s why Ash is laying it on so thick.

  Mike’s head went from side to side. “Fuck, dude, that’s so wrong. You have no fucking clue.” Mike ran his hand over his short buzz cut before giving the guy a little shove up the last step.

  Asher leaned in and whispered something else to Mike that she couldn’t catch before the three of them entered the office and closed the door. Fearful for what might or might not be happening, Sienna decided not to make her second round walking the club.

  It was no biggie. She did that sometimes.

  Being unpredictable was another facet of her dirty-diva persona as Sienna Flower. Yet she never let go of the facade; she was Sienna all the time. She never broke character. Her sanity and safety relied on upholding her good-girls-can-be-naughty reputation, and a large part of her success with that was based on acting like the prima donna everyone assumed she was. Lila was nothing but a memory, and in order to keep Sienna alive and well, she had an image to live up to…all the time. And she played it so well, only she knew it was nothing but a role.

  Skipping her walkthrough of the club floor reminded her fans she was unpredictable and wicked. Sienna Flower was a big mystery and untouchable, but her rounds circling the Tunnel were widely anticipated. She didn’t like letting the crowd down, but one time was no big deal. It would definitely ensure the current customers would return in hopes of an up-close peek at Sienna.

  If she hadn’t been out on the floor once already, she wouldn’t consider bailing, but she’d done a few laps earlier in the night. She had her usual cocktail, sparkling water with a splash of cranberry and lime in a lowball glass, knowing better than to drink the hard stuff when so much was riding on her success. Tonight she decided to enjoy it with her protégée, Petal, and a gentleman she was entertaining. The gentleman was being nothing but polite and keeping her friend well occupied and flush with cash.

  She liked to keep her eye on what the dancers were up to when she was out on the floor, so she made it a point to join small groups here and there for a little while. This served a dual purpose of making customers feel special, and helped out the dancers with the extra tips they got from the delighted customers. Every night she did this for as many dancers as possible, but Petal was her favorite.

  Ravyn Petal, or Petal, as everyone affectionately came to call her, was often mistaken for Sienna’s little sister despite the contrast between Sienna’s golden hair and Petal’s silky black. Petal had started at the club about a year and a half ago, her popularity helped by her soft, smooth skin and round, firm, natural breasts much like Sienna’s.

  Both her parents had died in a car accident when she was little, after which she became a victim of the foster care system. Without a stable adult in her life and no real ties to anyone or anything, she had hopped on a bus to Vegas the day she turned eighteen, with stars in her eyes.

  Sienna met Staci, now “Petal,” when the girl was answering the phones at the Cat’s Meow, Sienna’s preferred waxing studio and one of the few places she ventured out to on the Strip.

  When she did go out to the glitzy side of town, she dressed very low-key, shoving her long blonde hair under a baseball cap and donning super-large shades. Typically, Sienna wasn’t very social when she went outside the club; in fact, she tried to avoid talking to anyone, especially on the Strip. There were too many fans, pawing, touching, and asking her for photos, so she usually grabbed one of the bouncers from the club, often Mike, before heading that direction.

  The problem was that Sienna Flower was known all over Vegas. Her picture graced a large billboard right before the famous WELCOME TO LAS VEGAS sign. There were Internet chat rooms devoted solely to her performances, the lingerie she wore onstage, and her bad-girl secrets; whatever they might be was anyone’s best guess. Thankfully, no cameras were allowed in the Tunnel.

  There was a brief period where all this publicity made Sienna nervous, but the fact she looked nothing like Lila anymore put her at ease. Not to mention, her looks only mattered if she even remotely thought anyone from her old world would be delving into adult entertainment. They would never, ever think, let alone dream she was a stripper who danced onstage and took nearly all her clothes off, baring everything she had to offer.

  Still, even if they did, Sienna didn’t look one bit like Lila. She was reinvention, both physical and mental, at its finest.

  With this in mind, Sienna seldom went out unless it was a occasional publicity event Asher asked her to do, or her salon trips. For waxing, she went to the Cat’s Meow, and for her hair, she went to the posh private salon for high rollers at one of the luxury hotels on the Strip. Those were her only destinations; everyone else came to her these days. Her manicurist came over on Tuesdays, a personal shopper came as needed, and she ordered her dance clothes shipped straight to the club.

  On the day when Sienna had first met Petal, Big Mike had driven her down to the Strip, but he needed to run a quick errand, so she had some time to kill after her waxing was done. Mike was going to swing back and get Sienna at the Cat’s Meow, since she felt more than comfortable waiting there, typically hanging out in the back.

  Except on this day, she didn’t stay in the back of the studio; she went to check out the candles in the front of the store. A new girl—Staci, according to her pink pussycat nametag—was answering the phone and booking appointments at the reception desk, but stopped what she was doing to step out and help Sienna with the candles. She was so fresh and innocent, a rarity in Vegas, that Sienna was captivated with what she recognized as a younger version of herself.

  Deep in thought over what could have been, and where she might have ended up had she not met Asher, Sienna had heard Staci drawl, “Can I help ya?”

  Sienna thought back to her early days in Vegas, to her awful outfits, bad hair, and zero clue as to what it took to succeed in Vegas, and she felt something toward the girl. But it wasn’t pity. Sienna had contemplated the girl in front of her, her mind spinning. If she’s going to make it here, Staci needs to be way more cosmopolitan, polished.
r />   And a rescue fantasy was born.

  Vegas was a town of mystique and make-believe. It was an adult fantasy come to life, and there was no room in that fantasy for “hick talk.” Visitors to Sin City wanted to believe they were indulging in a lavish playground for adults. They didn’t want reminders of the farm town they grew up in, or the very image, accent, or background they were trying to lose.

  Sienna had answered the question quietly, wanting to strike up more than a conversation with Staci, but needed some time to think about the best way to approach her.

  “Yes, will you help me find a few soft scents for my bathroom at home?”

  “Whatcha like? Somethin’ flowery? Vanilla?” The girl cocked her hip to one side while her hand rested on it, making her look formidable.

  Trying not to show how much the accent was grating on her nerves, Sienna maintained a neutral look on her face and answered, “I like more natural scents. Lily of the Valley…water.”

  “Well, I got the water scent right here for ya. Thunderstorm. It smells like rain. Ya want me to add it to your bill for the wax?” More hip cocking, side to side.

  Sienna cringed, even though she was trying hard not to show it. “I have an account here. Just have Penelope add it to my charge.”

  “What do ya mean, an account? I don’t know nothing about accounts here.” Petal frowned and waved her hands in the air helplessly.

  Taking pity, Sienna decided to step outside her comfort zone and explained softly, “Staci, my name is Sienna. Sienna Flower. I’m one of a few women with personal accounts here. Penelope does it as a courtesy to a few of her more frequent customers.”

  “Oh! Oh my God! I didn’t recognize you with the hat and the glasses and all the clothes. Sienna Flower from the billboard!” Staci shrieked while jumping up and down.

  “Shh, right. That’s me, but let’s keep it quiet. Staci, why don’t you send your calls to voice mail and let’s go have a cup of tea in the back.”

  Staci stopped jumping, her eyes widening to the point she looked downright frightened.

  “You’re not in trouble,” Sienna assured her. “I just want you to succeed here. I can tell you want to, but we have to chat about a few things so you can do that. I’m doing it as a favor to Penelope.”

  Staci had frowned and took her bottom lip between her teeth, then said, “Is that going to be okay with Penelope?”

  “Don’t worry about that, Staci. Penelope and I are close friends. I’ll handle this.”

  Once they’d been seated at the table in back with some hot tea and sliced fruit, Sienna got to know Staci and shared a little about her own background.

  Silence fell between them for a moment, as the girl digested what she’d told her, then Sienna leaned forward and said, “Staci, you could make a really nice life for yourself. I had a bad life and now I have a good one.”

  Good, but lonely. So lonely, I’m taking you under my wing.

  Sienna had omitted anything specific about Lila and why she ended up in Vegas. She simply left it at the two women sharing difficult upbringings.

  With a compassionate expression on her face, she said, “I had a tough beginning like you, and I want to help you make something of yourself, so you can stay here and be happy, Staci. I was able to transform myself, and now I can help you.”

  The young girl had just stared at Sienna. Most likely, no one ever had showed an interest in her, let alone someone she saw as a celebrity.

  “You don’t have to dance if you don’t want to,” Sienna went on, “and I definitely don’t want to take you away from Penelope, but we have to work on your manners and speech. There’s a lot of money to be made here in Vegas, and opportunities are at your feet. Let’s help you take advantage of all of this. The first step is assuming the role of what people expect in Vegas. Anything but reality.” She tilted her head and looked at the younger, more naive version of herself.

  Sienna decided helping Staci make it on her own in Vegas was a start at paying it forward in the same way Asher had taken her under his wing. The Electric Tunnel and its people—Asher, Mike, and Petey, who all gave her refuge when she needed it, helped her achieve success, and made her feel warm and welcome—were her current inspiration.

  Staci probably saw her as a stripper with a heart of gold. The truth was that she was alone and craved a friend like a drowning person craves fresh air.

  Sienna was an extremely giving person deep down inside, and Lila had never been able to fully express that side with all the beatings and lies she’d had to endure. Lila was someone who craved to love and be loved, something she never truly had. And since she couldn’t afford to fall in love now, Sienna chose Staci to be her family.

  The two women had bonded quickly. Lila never had a sister, but always wished she did. Maybe if she had, she would have had someone to go to when she was secretly being abused.

  As Sienna, her only family was Asher. These days she took care of Asher as much as he took care of her, but she had more love to give. Knowing she’d never get married again and have a family of her own, she saw Staci as a chance for her to take care of someone else, so Sienna took her under her wing.

  Initially, Staci would spend time with Sienna at her house, or the two would meet for a quiet lunch somewhere way off the Strip. Quickly, the two women became as close as Sienna could be with anyone; like sisters, but Staci could never know about Lila. Sienna felt bad, as if she were lying by omission, but not only was it dangerous for Sienna to reveal her true identity, she didn’t want to involve Staci.

  The less connection to my past, the better for everyone.

  Soon enough, Staci became Petal. Ravyn Petal, the Electric Tunnel’s newest dancer. Petal still worked at the Cat’s Meow while she was learning to dance, until she earned herself the spot right before Sienna went onstage. Petal also happily did lap dances and trips to the private room with customers. Going onstage right before Sienna elevated Petal to most-wanted status, and she left the Cat’s Meow after eight months, since she was making big bucks at the Tunnel.

  Sienna was proud of Petal’s success in making a new life, and taught her how to save and manage money. To Sienna, there was nothing to be ashamed of in developing a career as an exotic dancer. For many, it was more money and security than they could have imagined, and under her wing, the girl would learn to prepare for the future.

  Sienna didn’t judge Petal for working the floor and doing whatever she did in the VIP rooms. She watched her lead the gentleman from earlier to the back area, his hand on her lower back, and she was smiling. With her soft raven-black hair flowing down her back and brushing against the small booty shorts she wore that revealed hints of the round bum underneath, Petal was now a confident young woman, very different from the insecure girl she had been when they first met.

  The pair stopped to be vetted by the head bouncer that evening for the VIP rooms. After learning from Asher, Petey was as tough as nails when patrons entered the secluded area. Wearing his usual bad-boy getup, that was enhanced by his very muscular tattooed arms, he only had to focus his midnight-blue eyes on someone to instill fear, demand respect, and maintain decorum. Sienna watched him frisk the very willing man before arranging terms and explaining the code of conduct, taking his credit card for safekeeping, and opening a tab for time with her girl.

  This was part of the life, and thankfully at the Tunnel there was absolutely no funny business when it came to the dancers performing one-on-one for the customers. With high-tech security cameras and the toughest bouncers in the business all over the club, customers couldn’t get away with anything raunchy or disrespectful.

  Sienna had done a lot of lap dances—with no touching—in her short career on the floor before Asher had said it was enough. When Asher saw how customers gravitated to simply watching her perform, he determined there was no reason to ever place Sienna on the floor. When her stage persona clearly became the main draw to the club, Asher started paying her even better than he had been to simply dance.
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  She knew it was both a personal and a business decision. Asher was well aware how difficult it was for her to work the floor, but he also realized the benefits of Sienna dancing exclusively. Her shows brought customers back over and over again, while being good for the other girls on the floor. Following her stage numbers, the floor dancers were flooded with requests for lap dances. There was no denying Sienna was the draw, and limiting her to the big stage only amplified her pull.

  Sienna never worked the private rooms, though. She refused to enter a space where she was alone with a customer, ever, even before she was famous. Asher understood this and never pushed it, even without knowing the entire reason. He seemed to sense that being in one of the rooms would push Sienna over the edge.

  Years ago when Asher had first approached Sienna about getting on the stage, he’d rubbed his hands soothingly up and down her arms. “Sie, doll, you know I’m never going to make you go back there to those rooms, don’t you? I just think you should dance, and make more money. That’s it.” It was his gentle, assuring way with her that helped her find the path to a brand new identity, one that saved her life.

  These days, there was absolutely no reason for Sienna to do anything she didn’t want to, now that she was an owner. An owner. It might not be what she dreamed of when she was a little girl, but she was a part owner of the Tunnel.

  If my destiny was to be a stripper or strip club owner, so be it. Safety first.

  Sienna was living life on her own terms, which was why she had no reason not to allow herself to head out early upon occasion. She was confused by her fixation on the dark-haired man, who only watched her and seemed immune to the sexual hum of the club, and she needed some time to herself, to appreciate what she did have and not what she was missing.