“Yeah, that’s a problem. You could work in a restaurant and serve alcohol no problem, but the laws are different for sexually oriented businesses that serve booze.”
“Oh,” and just like that, everything I’d done to work myself up to make it in the door was for nothing, because it didn’t matter. “I didn’t realize. I guess I should probably go.” I started to slide off my stool.
“Hold up. I said it’s a problem, but sometimes the owner can work around that, just depends on how magnanimous he’s feeling. It won’t hurt for you to stick around.”
“Okay,” I dropped back onto my seat.
“When will you be twenty-one?”
“November.”
“And you’re just in your first year of college?” His tone was curious but not derisive.
“I took a year off after high school to … deal with stuff.” What was it about bartenders that had you wanting to spill all your deepest, darkest secrets? Did they go to bartender school for that shit?
He simply nodded as if he understood, even though there was no way he could.
Ten
Luke
Six years ago
Celia relaxed in her seat, folding her arms across the concrete bar, highlighting her full breasts that spilled over them, straining against the snug, long-sleeve, black tee that was cut low enough to give me a tantalizing glimpse of what lay beneath. It was a serious effort in self-control not to keep looking, and for a guy who spent a lot of time in a strip club, where a lot more than just a bit of cleavage was on display every night, that was saying something about the kind of appeal this girl had.
She was a solid dime. I couldn’t find a damn imperfection anywhere on her. I was prepared to retract my ruling once I got a complete look at her, it was hard to be certain with her folded onto that stool, but I doubted I’d find any flaws.
She was easily the most gorgeous woman to set foot in this place, and considering the standards around here, that was saying a fuck of a lot. She didn’t have even the slightest hint of a southern accent, no lilt or twang at all to her voice. Neither did her voice carry any of the vocal patterns or exaggerations you heard up north, which made me suspect she was possibly a Midwest or West Coast girl. The golden tan and natural blonde hair lended itself to that theory. At the very least, she looked the part of California girl.
“Where are you from?” I couldn’t resist.
“Santa Barbara, California,” she replied easily in that airy, musical tone of hers.
I couldn’t help the slight satisfied smirk that tugged at my mouth. I’d pegged her right. I hid it, by turning my back to her and pretending to straighten and inventory the shelved bottles along the wall.
“So, what was the draw to South Carolina for a Cali girl?” Usually, by now I would have cut the shit, but for some reason I wanted to know everything about this girl.
“About three-thousand miles,” she muttered.
I glanced over my shoulder to see her staring down at the custom bar top, absent-mindedly running her fingers over the stainless-steel designs embedded in the dark concrete.
“Huh?” I asked and her eyes lifted to mine.
“It’s about three-thousand miles from California. That was the appeal.”
Ah, so it wasn’t so much about where she was going but what she was getting away from. I didn’t bother trying to guess at whatever that was.
“Miss it at all?” I turned to her fully, leaning back against the counter, gripping the top with my hands.
She shrugged. “Not much for me to miss. I’ve still got a beach. I can go to the ocean any time I want, that’s all I need,” she replied softly, something peaceful about the look on her face when she mentioned the beach.
“I know that feeling,” I told her. “I’ve got a place right on the water. Wake up and see the Atlantic out my bedroom window. Go for a run on the beach almost every morning.”
“That sounds perfect.”
“It is,” I pushed off the counter and moved to rest my body against the bar directly in front of her, unable to deny myself this chance to soak her in. There were only a few minutes now until The Orchid opened and I would be kept busy.
I nodded at Mike and Lenny as they came in and made their way to the back. Ci, because I just couldn’t wrap my mouth around calling this pretty little vixen Celia when it sounded too formal and like such a proper and prissy young lady’s name, spared the two security guys a quick glance over her shoulder before I stole her attention back.
“So Ci,” I tried it out loud and found I liked the way it sounded, “you say you’re here for the money, and I believe you. I can tell you wouldn’t have set foot inside if it were otherwise. And you’re not the first girl to be drawn here by the prospect of dollar signs, but are you sure you know what you’d be getting yourself into? Some girls think they can handle it and then walk right back out those doors once they get their first real taste. Dress it up, make it high class, don’t change the fact that this place is what it is in all its hedonistic glory, and it’s all about sex. You think you’re ready for that.”
She looked a little unsure at my words. “Leo said,” she bit her bottom lip and my eyes were drawn to the plump bit of flesh painted cherry red. “Leo said you guys didn’t sell sex.”
“You misunderstand me. We don’t sell the act, but take a good look around. Every bit of this place is designed to make the people who come through those doors want one thing even before they get their first look at the girls. You’ll see when the lights are turned down and music comes on and this place starts filling up. You’ll be able to feel it, breathe it even. You think you’re ready for that? Because you still have that little lamb look in your eye that tells me as ready as you think you are, you aren’t prepared for this. This isn’t some sexy fairy tale, and it gives new meaning to looking for love in the wrong places, sweetheart. Love has nothing to do with what we do here, so maybe a sweet girl like you would be wise to think this through a little more.”
With a hard look, I urged her to hear what I was saying. “There’s still ten minutes before the lights go down, and that’s plenty of time for you to walk out of here.” Despite how blatantly sexy this girl was, she was unsure and there was something inherently wrong about her being here. The more I talked to her, the more convinced I became that this wasn’t the place for her. She may be trying to escape from something, she very likely experienced some tragedy or hardship in her past, but she didn’t have the hardened and almost detached look a lot of the girls had. For the most part, they were all nice girls, but it still took a certain type, and Ci, or Celia, wasn’t it. Or so I thought.
She had a sweetness and softness about her that I knew would drive the men that came here wild, but it felt wrong to play on that.
A ruffled look came over her face. “If you’re looking at me and seeing fairy tales and notions of love, then you’re not looking hard enough. I’m far from a little lamb.”
“Okay then.” I still wasn’t convinced. Didn’t matter, there was an easy way to find out if she had it in her, and we’d get to that, but for now I was enjoying our little banter. I had to put a pause on it though, when it was show time. Lenny hit the lights, casting the room in a sort of warm glow. Soft music with sexy, thumping bass filled the room and the girls appeared in their minuscule black shorts and the teeny corset tops with no straps and lapels like sexy tuxedos that dipped down and created an enticing V in the front. The tops buttoned instead of laced and were topped with white bow ties around their necks. The look was completed with black, lacy thigh highs and ridiculous heels.
Ci was taking in every inch of the requisite uniform as they crowded the bar area. Like a Mack truck barreling toward me I couldn’t stop the mental image of her dressed in all the same trappings. I was long past getting hard at just the sight of the girls, but I’ll be damned if imagining Ci in the same getup didn’t have me shifting uncomfortably.
“Hey Luke,” Jess, one of my favorites because of how down to eart
h she was, sidled up right next to Ci. “What d’ya think? Will Celia be a good fit here?” So, the two had already met. I wondered if they were friends, if Jess had been the one to recommend her. Ci’s gaze fixed to mine also waiting for my reply.
“I guess we’ll see.”
“Well, she has my vote,” Jess chirped and then sauntered away from the bar after giving Ci a bright smile and a wink. The rest of the girls didn’t come over, just observed her casually. It wasn’t very often that we got fresh girls. Turnover was low, at least as low as could be expected in this line work. All of the girls here now had been at The Orchid for more than a year, some of them two years, and Jess had been here three.
“You know Jess?” I arched an eyebrow at Ci.
“Not really. We bonded on my way in the door.”
That sounded like Jess.
I was pulled away from her to check in with Mike and Lenny as we opened for business. Lenny was on the door as usual. Looking like a big, bald, black Vin Diesel, he kept out the guys who tried to weasel their way in without a membership. Requiring membership kept out most of the typical strip club riff raff, and drew a much higher class clientele. We still had the occasional incident, but our guys always dealt with it swiftly. Because of our reputation and standards, business was good. Good enough that bringing on someone like Celia would be more than feasible, it would be a smart business play no matter that she’d have to be kept off the books until she was twenty-one.
Even with the girls walking around in their skimpy getups, more than one set of male eyes drifted to Celia, who sat casually by the bar, and observed her as the club began filling up. She was covering a hell of a lot more skin than any other female in here in the long sleeve shirt and tight, ripped denim, and still she was sexy as hell.
I kept my eyes on her as much as I could while I mixed and poured drinks.
“So, how’d you end up here anyway? If you’re not friends with Jess, how did you hear about this place? Not like we have a Facebook page.”
She spun around on her stool, tearing her gaze away from the increasing activity in the room. “My roommate’s sister had a friend that worked here. I’m not sure how long ago, though. Have you been here a while?”
“Since this place was sold and came under new ownership three years ago.”
She rested her elbows on the bar top, seemingly content for the moment to ignore everything else going on around us. “Then you probably knew her, but I don’t remember her name, only that she transferred to medical school in Florida a year or so ago.”
I knew the girl. “Desiree, or Dezi as she was known here.” I started mixing another drink, which I slid in front of her.
She eyed the glass and then me. “Did you just make me a Shirley Temple?”
I smirked. “Sorry, we’re fresh out of apple juice.”
She rolled those bright blue eyes. “I’m not that young. I’ll be twenty-one in nine months.” She put her lips around the straw and sucked. Those lips–plump and painted red, the top one like the top of a heart; it was hard not to let my mind imagine them doing other things.
“So, the owner, what’s he like?”
I shrugged. “Just another rich asshole.”
Breazy strode over to the two of us, leaning over the bar and jutting her ass out. “Need a whiskey sour and a bourbon on the rocks.” I went to work on the drinks “Hey Bre, I was just telling Ci here that the owner is a rich asshole, am I right?”
She looked at me and laughed. “Oh definitely,” then she shifted to Ci, “but we put up with it because he’s also fine as hell. All the girls think so, but he never takes advantage of any of our offers. We think he might be gay.”
I chuckled and pushed the drinks to her. “There you go, get back to work.” With a wink, Bre grabbed the drinks and sauntered off.
“So, rich, gay asshole? That’s all you’re going to tell me about him?” she prodded.
“Nah, he’s not so bad. And the gay part isn’t true. He just respects the girls too much to take advantage. He really turned this place around. It used to be just another strip joint like all the rest. Didn’t have the best rep. The previous owner got into a bit of trouble and put it up for sale. Anderson swooped in with his money. Remodeled and revamped the place. Used his money connections to bring in a higher-class clientele and from there word spread. Now we’ve got members that come in from all over the state. We even draw in business from Atlanta and Charlotte and a few other out of state cities.”
“So, he’s okay to work for?”
Before I could answer her, Leo finally joined us, ducking behind the bar. “So, boss, what are you thinking? Gonna give the girl an audition?”
“Boss?” She arched her brow at me.
“Guess I should formally introduce myself.” I stuck my hand out. “Luke Anderson, I own the place.” I didn’t feel the least bit bad about letting her think I was just a bartender. Tonight, that’s exactly what I was since the guy that usually manned the bar had called me with a family emergency. Ci never would have been so laid back with me if she’d known up front that I was the one who made the decisions around here.
She took my hand with an amused twitch of her lips. “Celia Rhoades.”
“Sorry, I guess I should have made introductions. I just assumed when I saw you two talking that you wouldn’t be a dick.” Leo shot me an accusatory look.
“It’s okay,” she shrugged it off. “But now I think he owes me that audition at least.”
Eleven
Cici
Present
Road Trip to Hell Day 2
I pressed the headphones tighter over my ears and closed my eyes. Johnny Cash’s low baritone reached inside me. Then June’s voice joined his and I felt the goosebumps rise on my arms. Johnny and June sang about all the ways they would cherish each other forever, and it took me right back to last night, lying in bed wondering if love could still last forever. Was that kind of love something from the past that only existed now in songs, books, and movies?
Ugh.
What difference did it make? I wasn’t this sappy.
Before the song even ended, I pulled off the headphones, cutting off the words to ‘Cause I Love You, and returned them to their place, moving on to the next recording.
Folsom Prison Blues was ironically much less likely to give me a case of the blues. I listened to the recording and glanced ahead of me to see that Shae and Kellen were stopped at the next exhibit. Luke had already disappeared somewhere farther ahead of us.
I moved on from the recordings and slowly wandered through the dark museum filled with things from Johnny Cash’s life and the life he shared with June Carter. I lost myself in another time. Someone else’s story. There were parts of his life that weren’t so pretty. You could hear his demons in the songs he sang, but there was also … light. And love.
A love for the ages. One that never got old. Johnny and June. Okay, maybe I was this sappy. At least in this place. Must be something in the air here because Nashville was doing funny things to me.
I reached the end of the Johnny Cash timeline and I felt like my heart too had been broken. The music video for Hurt played on a screen. There were also interviews done with people who knew Johnny in his final days, and they all said the same thing. He just couldn’t live without her. When she went, his heart went too and it was only a matter of time before his body followed.
God, could love like that truly exist in any time period? Was it real? Or just some fantasy for suckers to hold onto and feed into their delusions of that Disney happily ever after bullshit? Was it possible for a man to love a woman so much that he would truly die of a broken heart without her?
Was it morbid to hope it was real? Probably. Did that make me one of those suckers?
“What are you thinking?”
I’d been so lost in my wonderings that I startled a little when Luke’s low voice prickled my neck. It was more of a shudder than a startle if I was being honest. I only hoped he couldn’t tell the di
fference.
I glanced at him over my shoulder. “You think he really died of a broken heart?” I asked him.
“That’s what they say. What do you think?”
I turned back to screen on the wall. I shrugged and then turned away. “It’s more likely the years of hard living finally caught up with him.” I made for the exit and Luke was close behind me. I shoved the door open and it spit us back out in the brightly lit gift shop.
Kellen and Shae were already in line with their merchandise. Kellen had one arm tucked around Shae’s waist and her head rested against his chest. It was so casual and yet so intimate at the same time.
I wandered through the racks of tshirts and posters and Johnny Cash memorabilia, snagging a tank top that caught my eye.
After I’d paid for my souvenir, the four of us made our way back to Broadway from the Johnny Cash Museum. Kellen and Shae hung back a ways. A quick glance over my shoulder told me they were having some kind of moment. Rather than slow down to wait for them, Luke and I kept our pace.
The rest of the afternoon was one tour after another, from the Country Music Hall of Fame to an old recording studio. More than ever it felt like music wasn’t just a part of this city, but the very breath and life and heartbeat of this place. And it wasn’t just country music. The city was alive with the soul of all music, and if you let it, it would infuse your own soul. I could spend a week here and barely scratch the surface of all there was to see and do.
“Hey, don’t you two still have a bet going?” Shae brought our little foursome to a stop on the sidewalk, lifting her eyes from the screen of her phone with a slight grin. “This says Tequila Cowboy has a mechanical bull upstairs. That’s the first bar we were in last night.”
Kellen barked out a laugh. “Oh, I have to see this.”
Luke and I exchanged a look and then he shrugged. “What the hell.”
“Okay, let’s do it.” I’d never ridden a mechanical bull in my life, but how hard could it be?
“This is going to be fun.” Shae was almost a little too excited as we made our way back down Broadway.
When we were actually standing in front of the thing upstairs at the bar, I started having second thoughts. “You first,” I told Luke.
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