Nothing but fate, really.
And fate had brought me here.
Right here, with this fresh glass of whiskey giving me the warmest buzz, this plush plane shuttling me to a new experience, to the beginning of a new future.
Something in my gut told me that all I really needed to do was listen.
I, too, could have a dream. Maybe I didn’t have a clue what that was just yet. But maybe I could find it after I had some time to get to know myself a little again. I was hoping like hell that a change of scenery and hopefully a little clarity, as much as one can find in Sin City, that is, would be just what the doctor ordered.
The plane landed smoothly and before I knew it, another limo was whisking me out of the airport and into the city, quickly turning onto the nearby strip and finally turning in front of a sprawling display of dancing fountains.
The driver swiftly deposited me at the bustling entrance to the Bellagio Hotel. It was as over-the-top as Mario had made it sound on the phone.
I walked through the gold revolving doors and looked up in awe at the immense floral glass sculpture that dominated the ceiling. Making my way over to the registration desk, I drank in my surroundings. Like swarms of ants, the place was crawling with people of all sorts — young and old alike, groups of friends, singles and families, too. As I wove through the crowd, I heard at least three different languages being spoken.
“I have a reservation,” I said to the lady behind the counter, once again saying a silent prayer of gratitude to Mario. I handed the woman my identification and her eyes shot up after typing in my name.
“Ms. Thorne, we’re so very pleased to have you with us,” she began, gesturing for a man standing nearby. He walked over quickly, and almost bowed to me. “This is Charles. Charles will escort you to your penthouse suite and see to it that everything is to your liking.”
“Oh, I don’t need an escort,” I said, thinking I didn’t need the penthouse suite either. Mario had taken my ‘go all out’ instructions very literally.
“Please, ma’am, I insist,” he replied. Charles was very tall, handsome and serious, his distinguished, slicked back hair greying at the temples. His warm smile offset his towering, intimidating frame.
“Okay,” I replied, feeling like a fish out of water. Anytime I traveled with Reggie, he always took care of these sorts of things while I waited. I only had one suitcase today and while it seemed absurd that a man would be required to take me to my room, I nodded. Still, I followed behind him obediently, after receiving the card keys the clerk handed to me.
We rode the elevator in silence to the top floor. When I saw the room Mario reserved for me, I understood the royal treatment I was receiving. I’d have been just as happy with a regular room, with a regular bed, maybe a nice view, but this was nothing at all like that.
It was palatial, and way too big for just me, although the view was something I could easily get used to. Floor to ceiling windows opened up to a large balcony that wrapped around the outside of the suite, providing a sprawling view of the strip. I walked out, soaking in the bright sunshine and looking down at the fountains and street below.
“It’s quite a sight at night when it’s all lit up,” Charles said behind me. “I’ve taken the liberty of putting your luggage in the bedroom, Ms. Thorne. On the buffet in the living room is a complete menu of services and amenities available, as well as an itinerary and tickets for all the shows and services Mr. Morales has reserved for you already. If you don’t see something you’re looking for, please contact the front desk and we will do everything we can to accommodate you fully.”
“Thank you, Charles,” I said, turning back to him and slipping him a tip, like I’d seen Reggie do countless times.
“There’s a full bar, of course. And champagne already open and waiting,” he said, smiling at me. “But if there’s anything else you’d like, I’d be happy to help.”
“Help?”
“Yes, Ms. Thorne. This is Vegas, after all. We’re used to the most unusual requests.”
“Oh, I’m sure you are,” I said, laughing.
“So?” He asked, staring at me expectantly.
“So, what?”
“What do you fancy, Ms. Thorne?”
“Do you mean like extra towels? Or an iron?” I asked. “I think I’m okay. I can call down to the front desk if I think of anything.”
“Yes, of course, ma’am. But if there’s other things…other items or services you don’t see in the brochure, you should give me a call.”
He handed me his card and I stared down at it in confusion.
“Are you hitting on me?” I asked, bewildered.
“No, ma’am, of course not,” he insisted. “I was referring to intoxicants, stimulants.”
I stared at him blankly.
“Drugs, ma’am? Companionship?” He asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Oh!” I said, reality hitting me like a brick against the side of the head. Heat rose to my cheeks. “No! Gosh, no!”
“Just let us know,” he nodded. “I’m only a phone call away.”
“Thank you, Charles,” I replied, thankful when he turned to walk out. Did people do that kind of thing? Just order up drugs and sex like that? Suddenly, I felt completely naive and out of touch. I wasn’t interested in drugs and while a good roll in the hay with a handsome man didn’t sound bad at all, ordering one like a steak wasn’t for me. Not yet, anyway.
According to Mario, I just needed to hit the reset button on my entire life.
And I am in Vegas, so who am I to judge? Maybe ordering up a nice rare hunk of man meat was just what some women needed and expected from a trip to Vegas.
Me? I had no idea what to expect, but I knew I might need something at least halfway authentic when it came to the personal relations department. I wandered through the rooms of the suite, trying not to remind myself that it was as empty as my house back home. Almost as nice, too. The bedroom was like something out of a movie. The massive bed was sunken into the room, with plush carpeted steps leading down to it, and a huge round mirror was mounted on the ceiling. I fiddled with the switches on a panel on the wall and let out a little gasp of pleasure as a spinning disco ball descended from a crevice overhead, sending dancing flashes of light glittering over the ceiling.
I flipped the switch again and laughed with delight when it retreated back into its hiding spot. I didn’t have anything like that at home!
Maybe it’s time to get a little more creative, I thought. I’d been so obsessed with my custom-molded marble bathtub, I’d never once thought of disco lights and mirrors over my bed. I walked back into the living room and smiled when I saw the open bottle of champagne perched perfectly in a bucket of ice, two sparkling gold flutes lying next to it. I grabbed one, ignoring the little reminder of the fact that I was alone that the other one was subtly hinting at, and poured myself a healthy glass of bubbly.
It was the good stuff.
It went down like pink fireworks. The bubbles rippling against my throat as it slid down, the cold piercing my chest, the buzz hitting me fast and mixing with the whiskey I’d had on the place. I downed the rest of it a little faster than I normally would, hoping for the best and telling myself to slow down, all at the same time.
I poured another glass and spun around to the view and let a huge grin spread across my face as I trailed my eyes around the horizon. As Charles said, soon the endless street of neon lights would be shimmering with life. Looking down on it now, a wave of anticipation washed over me.
Down there, I was going to find a new beginning.
Down there, I might just find myself again.
Down there, anything was possible.
All I had to do was open myself up to the possibilities.
With the liquid courage I was slowly sipping, I might just be able to manage it.
CHAPTER 4
RICHIE
“Look, Richie, you can give me all the money you want, but I’m not giving you a percentage of
the club.”
“Barry, I’ve been saving this money for a long time.”
“Good for you,” he said. “But the fact remains that this place is a shit hole and hemorrhaging money. New carpet isn’t going to fix that. I’m only keeping it open till the lease is up in six months, Richie, but don’t tell the other guys that. We’re barely making the rent. Nobody’s interested in watching dudes dance anymore. That ship has sailed.”
“Are you serious?” I asked, my heart pounding. “Why didn’t you tell us? You have to tell the other guys, that’s only fair.”
“Why would I do that, so they can go find other jobs and force me to close the club sooner? I’d be stuck with paying the rent out of my own pocket for the rest of the lease. No fucking way — and you better not tell them either, Richie. I fucking mean it!”
I took a deep breath, determined to reason with the man. He was stubborn, but was he really that stupid?
“Barry, listen, the club doesn’t have to die. The competition is booming. Look at that new club on the strip, The Man Cave. They opened last year and they’re doing great. Have you been there?”
“Of course not,” he shrugged.
“It’s modern and luxurious, and it doesn’t fucking smell like mold, Barry. Of course nobody wants to come here. Don’t you see what you’re doing here? By turning me down and letting this place die, you’re passing up a good opportunity to make some money.”
“I told you,” he repeated. “I’m not fucking interested. Cheetah’s makes me all the money I need. The money is in the tits. Big tits. Not dick. It’s over, Richie. You should be thankful I told you. Now go get ready, it’s almost showtime.”
I stared across the desk at him with exasperation. Nothing I said was going to change his mind, that much was clear. Slowly, I stood up and began to walk out. As I reached the doorway, I stopped and turned back, an idea forming in my head. It was crazy, it was far-fetched, it was probably impossible, but I had to at least try.
“What if I buy the club from you?”
Barry looked up at me with an amused grin.
“You?” he asked. “With what?”
“I’ll get a loan. Buy the whole business from you.”
“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”
“I am,” I nodded, firmly. I thought of my friends, about the life we’d built together over the last decade, the family we’d built, and I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t let them down. If Barry closes this place, we’ll all be fucked.
“The business is worth a million bucks, Richie.”
“Fine,” I nodded, trying to pretend I wasn’t reeling at the price.
“Alright,” he nodded, finally. “If you can get the financing, I’ll sell it to you. But I doubt you can get a loan for that much, you don’t have any collateral, Richie.”
“Leave that to me.”
“Alright, good luck,” he said.
“You won’t be sorry,” I said.
“No, but you probably will, you crazy fuck,” he laughed. “You’ll be bankrupt in two years tops.”
“We’ll see.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Get to work. Clock’s ticking.”
I turned around, my heart soaring with hope. I jogged down to the dressing room and flung open the door to three sets of inquiring eyes.
“Well?” Daine asked. “How did it go?”
“Terrible,” I said. “He’s not interested in letting me buy in.”
“Of course, he isn’t, the greedy bastard,” Fox said.
“He did tell me I could buy it outright,” I said.
They stared over at me in silence. Finally, Blaze asked, "For how much?”
“A lot. A whole lot. A million.”
“Jesus!” Fox said. “Is it worth that?”
I shrugged, because honestly I had no idea.
“Well, I guess nothing changes,” Daine said. “We’ll just have to make the most of it. At least we still have jobs.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I said, opening my locker and pulling off my boots and clothes. I grabbed a bottle of baby oil and began pouring it over my naked skin, my head spinning with ideas.
I had no fucking clue how to come up with a million dollars. I was pretty sure getting a loan was out of the question. Why in the world would anyone give me a loan for that much money?
I had to figure out something, though.
I had to try.
I looked over at the other guys, my best friends, the only true family I had and I knew that giving up wasn’t an option.
There had to be a way.
I pulled on my g-string, tucking my cock and balls firmly out of view and then pulled on my first costume of the night — a pair of black, leather chaps, black rattlesnake cowboy boots, and a black, satin cowboy shirt with pearl buttons. Staring at myself in the mirror next to Daine, I placed a heavy black Stetson on top of my head and tipped my hat to Daine in the mirror.
“Lookin’ good, stud,” he winked.
“Thanks, brother,” I said, my head spinning, searching for solutions.
“You okay?” Daine asked, lowering his voice. “I know this meant a lot to you. You saved up for a long time.”
“Yeah, man, I’m alright,” I lied. “Fuck Barry.”
“Not if you paid me a million dollars!” he laughed, as he grabbed the bottle of baby oil and squirted it onto his huge biceps.
“How’s the crowd tonight?” I asked.
“Sparse,” he said. “But Fox said a bachelorette party has a reservation for later tonight, so it should pick up.”
“Great,” I said, heading for the door. “Wish me luck!”
“Watch out for the vultures!” Daine called behind me. I laughed as I headed to the back of the stage. The ‘vultures’ were the ladies who ignored all the rules, the ones who tried to slide their tongues down our throats and put their hands in all the places they weren’t allowed to. Just like women strippers, we had to deal with the out of control customers, too. The ones who thought they could do whatever they wanted as long as they threw enough cash our way.
That’s not how this works, though.
I waited behind the shimmering gold lamé curtains while Barry, who served as our occasional MC, introduced me.
“Hello, ladies! Are you ready for the show?” he called out. “First of all, let me ask you a question. Do you like dick?”
He paused as the crowd roared with applause.
“Great, because I’ve got something very special for you! The King of Dick is here tonight! Give it up for Richie King!”
The sound of cheers and clapping filled my ears and I smiled with satisfaction. This is why I did this. Not because of the money. Not because of the pussy, either, although that was a nice bonus when it happened.
I did it for the attention.
The acceptance.
The few moments on stage when everything else faded away and it was just me and the music and the lights and the women watching with lust-filled eyes.
Just knowing they wanted me was enough.
I walked out on stage, the searing lights hitting my face like a burst of sunlight, the drumbeat pumping through my veins as my body began to move, the cheers exploding through the air and hitting me right in the gut as I ripped my shirt open.
This was where I found joy.
This was where I found love and self-confidence.
And there was no way in hell I was going to let Barry take all this away from me. I didn’t know how, or when, or what I was going to have to do to make it happen, but someday — this stage, these lights, this club — was all going to belong to me and I was going to resurrect it from the dead and make it successful again.
Dancing to the edge of the stage, I winked at the woman waiting there, her smile wide, her eyes sparkling with desire as I sank to my knees and grabbed her hand. I placed it on my oiled chest and rubbed it over my pecs as her eyes rolled back in ecstasy. I leaned down and kissed her cheek, stood up and strolled away, as she
threw more bills on the stage.
In moments, I was sweaty and naked and the crowd was roaring with that sweet elixir of approval as they blanketed the stage in dollar bills like confetti.
I walked back to the dressing room with a sense of purpose and determination. This was my home. There was no way I was just going to allow Barry to throw it all way.
No matter what, I was going to find a way.
CHAPTER 5
TILLIE
That nice warm buzz I had at noon translated to an insistence that I try out the bed in my suite for a leisurely afternoon nap. I awoke feeling slightly guilty which was quickly followed by feeling guilty for feeling guilty. I reminded myself this was a vacation, my time to do exactly as I pleased every second of every day.
According to the itinerary, I had a reservation in an upscale restaurant called Lago, here in the hotel. I dressed up a little but nothing too fancy, hoping my modest cocktail dress would help me blend in with the crowd more. From what I’d seen in the lobby earlier, I was worried even this dress would be too dressy, but as soon as I stepped into the restaurant, I realized I was just fine.
The place was classy, modern and sleek with low lighting. The tables, the chairs, the decor of the sunken dining room, were all pure white. Plush grey and mauve carpet lay underfoot, the heels of my stilettos sinking in a little with each step as I made my way to my table for one out on the open-air patio, that faced what I now realized was called Lake Bellagio. The massive fountains I’d seen upon arriving, lit up from below now that darkness had fallen, the water dancing amongst a colorful light display that rivaled any I’d witnessed before.
Forcing myself to push away the awkward feeling that always washed over me when I dined alone, I raised my chin and smiled as the young, pretty hostess handed me a menu as I sat down.
By the time the waiter arrived and took my order, quickly bringing me a glass of much needed wine, I’d accomplished exactly what I’d hoped. I didn’t give a damn what anyone thought of me. I ignored the other diners completely and devoured some of the best steak, shrimp and pasta I’d ever tasted while watching the delightful water show. When I was done, I didn’t even look at the check, I just plopped down my credit card and smiled at the waiter.
Tomcats_Book One Page 3