“Where at?” Pushing him a little bit on it.
He stammers out a few club names, most of which I haven’t heard of and at least one where I know he definitely hasn’t worked. Just an asshole lying his way through an interview. A big asshole, though, someone I wouldn’t mind helping me out of a scrape. I’ve already made up my mind to approve, but I’m always keen to know more and besides, I’m bored as hell.
“You’ll be working the door to start.” I say, just sliding into the fact that I’m going to give him a run at it without saying so in words. “Chase can give you the rundown on who he wants in and who he doesn’t, but I don’t really give a shit about that. I care more about what the hell they’re carrying and their attitude.”
Cal grins at me like we’re buddies. I want to tell him that we’re not, but I keep my mouth shut. “Lots of hot chicks come in?” He asks.
My first thought is of the Goddess; my second thought is what he might say about her. Hell, I’m getting pretty defensive about a girl I’ve never even talked to. Need to remedy that.
“Yeah, there are a lot of hot chicks,” I tell him. “it all depends on what you’re into, I guess, but we’re here to keep focus on the club. Feel free to make connections, but keep the rest off the clock.”
I start to wander towards the front door of the club. No invite, just making him follow me. Okay, so sometimes I can be a little bit of an asshole. Who isn’t?
Propping open one of the heavy steel doors with my boot, I gesture for him to look outside. The sun is still blazing down, a far cry from the cool of the evening when the patrons will start to arrive.
I point to the left. “Usually, we setup the ropes on this side and encourage the line to head that way around the building. The more people standing looking down that alley the better. Keeps ‘em honest for at least as late as we still have a line.”
Cal glances down the street, speaking more towards the sidewalk than the street. “Encourage?”
“You know what the guy said in Roadhouse.” I say, more of a statement than a question.
This time he looks back over his shoulder at me. “In what?”
Fucking youngsters, I think. “Never mind, just a movie. Gist is to be nice to people unless they give you reason to not be nice. When was your last deployment?”
“Iraq. Been a year or two.” Cal says, coming back inside the door. It swings shut hard, with a boom against the frame. Timing’s right, I may have crossed paths with him once or twice over there. We tend to be pretty insular by unit, though.
We head back to the office area. “Just like guarding a checkpoint. Don’t be an asshole unless they give you a reason to be an asshole. This should be a job, not a power trip.”
From the look on Cal’s face, it seems like that’s exactly what he has in mind. Keep your own advice, Boles, I tell myself. No reason to be anything but nice yet.
I sit back down in my chair. “Friday and Saturday nights, be here around nine. Any other night you’re scheduled, eight. I doubt Chase will swing for too many weekday nights, though. It’s usually pretty dead.” I pull out my phone before he even has a chance to say anything.
“Roger that, boss.”
“Bolo.” I say, giving him a last glance before going back to the phone. I watch him in my peripheral vision as he heads out to the bar to talk to Mack, organizing his back-stock for the upcoming rush. I don’t really have any solid reasons for not trusting the bartender, just more of a read of him than anything else. Sometimes I wonder if he’s skimming from the till, but that’s not in my area of operation; if Chase can’t ferret out that shit himself, that’s his lookout.
Chapter Three: Suzanne
Like I said before, I’m basically sitting here watching guys fall over my roommate. Same shit, different weekend. Next weekend will be different, I tell myself. Maybe I’ll actually do something I’m interested in this time. The club is great and all, but definitely not my scene. Shit, what I wouldn’t give for a little of the ‘Netflix and chill’ my friends on Facebook seem to be bitching about all the time. I could definitely go for some ‘chill’ right now.
Anjelica doesn’t really help. Like usual, she’s out on the dance floor, having abandoned me here in the corner. Nobody puts Baby in the corner. I laugh, knowing that she wouldn’t get it anyway. More of a Jackass than a Dirty Dancing, that girl. I’m actually a little jealous, and that’s what pisses me off the most. Problem is, the guys I usually date wouldn’t even come to a place like this, making me a fish out of water. But do I want to keep dating ‘the guys I usually date?’ Not really. I mean, don’t get me wrong, David was nice enough, but maybe on the side of too nice. Even the sex was blah. Sweet and sensual only goes so far and it becomes too much of a good thing. Mentioning that I might sometimes like things a little more forceful was the death-knell of the relationship. I don’t blame him, though, it just wasn’t something that was in his nature.
“Aren’t you going to dance?” Anjelica says as she slips by the table in a drive-by drinking. Mine? Paid for. Hers? Gratis. “Life’s not fair, Suzanne.” My mom says in the back of my mind.
“I don’t have anyone to dance with.” I say.
“Dance with me. Please.” She drags the last word out so long I stand up just to appease her. I actually love to dance and maybe it’ll get some movement on the guy situation. “There’s lots of cool guys out there tonight.”
She’s leading me out to the dance floor by the hand, but I’m a little more than a full step behind so I feel like the petulant child being dragged somewhere by an impatient parent. The music is good enough. My body wants to move, after all, though it’s normally relegated to the living room when Anjelica is out with one of her sugar daddies.
I make my way to the corner of the dancefloor, back in the back, where I catch my reflection in the mirror as I move, stretching my arms out, feeling the strong beat flowing through my body. Watching myself, I do like what I see. The girl in the mirror, her long, flowing curves, her body, her style. Sometimes self-confidence is elusive, and it takes a moment, with no outside interference or negativity for it to creep out into the light again. A comment David made while we were just starting to get comfortable with each other keeps coming back to me. Proportional. Yeah, I don’t have the body that seems to have been in vogue for most of my life, but the extra that I carry is well-distributed. I examine the girl in the mirror as she grinds slowly, much more sensual than expected. No overhanging gut, no gross wings under the arms; just a bigger girl. More to offer, right? I think those words as my hips roll to the beat, feeling better and better about myself. She’s okay, right? I know in my heart that some guys still prefer the Botticelli to the Cosmo, and it’s actually buoying my spirits a little.
Feeling stronger, I mentally thank the girl in the mirror, working my way back to Anjelica. She was the one that asked me to dance, after all.
“He’s here again.” She whispers at a yell in my ear the moment I get within range.
I look around a little bit, using the movement of the music to make it less obvious. “Who?” I damn-well know who she’s talking about, but I don’t want to give her the satisfaction. She knows that I’ve been staring at him for the last few weekends; kind of the impossible dream scenario, but still fun.
Him.
The bouncer-guy. Even though my closest pass to him was about five feet, even that was enough to take my breath away and make me weak in the knees. I know what you’re thinking and I get it, but damn. Big guy, beard, tattoos, what looks to be some serious physical condition underneath casual clothes. Nothing fancy. The only reason I give him a second glance is that he’s not all GQ about his looks. He just comes across like that normal guy that just happens to be an Adonis. And those eyes. Brown and deep, always in motion. The girl in me always feels like nothing could possibly go wrong with him around.
I yell in Anjelica’s ear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t hear you.” I’m at least relatively sure that she just asked me something. Who can fault
a girl when she’s looking at that? I shouldn’t have asked. Just a lascivious comment on what she’d like to do to him, not as if she hasn’t done that with several guys already this week. Smiling conspiratorially and nodding, I turn to the beat to face away from her. There’s a cute guy over there anyway, and I edge my way in his direction. He looks more like my type and I’m in one of those rare moments of confidence. You can do this, Suze.
The look in his eyes gets me even more than the gentle wave-off he gives me with his hands. I feel like the girl-version of every high school movie where the nerd asks the cheerleader to prom. That sounds light, but it isn’t. I turn back in Anjelica’s direction, pretending as if I hadn’t really been approaching him. What an asshole. The tears are going to come and I know it. Dammit, Suzanne, what do you care what some asshole thinks? Are you really going to let some random prick spoil your moment? Yeah, probably.
“I’m going to get some air.” I say to her, gesturing towards the front of the club. She just nods and smiles as I try to avoid further eye contact with the pair of suitors dancing in front of her. Glancing one more time, I see the bouncer-guy again. Those perpetual motion eyes flick my direction and they meet mine for more than a second before I put the blinders on and head out the door; hoping to avoid seeing the same look in them that was making me run for the hills like an offended schoolgirl in the first place.
The air is just on the edge of being uncomfortably humid as I step out of the front door, the fresh hand stamp still drying on my skin, making one tiny cool spot on my overheated body. My brain is trying to push out the image of the dancer, trying to fill the void with a brief fantasy of the bouncer-guy, but it seems to reject that completely. Going too far beyond the realm of possibility isn’t something that I’ve ever been good at. I walk past the eyes of the unfortunates still waiting for access to the club, knowing full well that without Anjelica, I’d be one of them.
No, fuck that. I wouldn’t be one of them because I wouldn’t be here at all. I’m considering going home. Besides, it’s not like my roommate would have any issues finding someone to bring her back to the apartment. The sounds of sirens start to outweigh the sounds of the music as I walk further down the street towards the alley. Despite the temperature, my skin is cooling in the breeze. It’s too hot in there, anyway, I tell myself, knowing full well I’m deflecting and justifying why I basically ran away.
“Hey Doll.”
Gross. The comment isn’t coming from a prospective club-goer. He looks more like a homeless man, actually. I turn on my heels, realizing that I should probably stay closer to the entrance if and when I decide to call a cab.
“Oh, just going to ignore me?” The voice comes again as I hear my heels clicking faster and faster along the street.
“Bitch.”
My tears have gone at this point and I’m more pissed than anything else. Maybe I just need to stand up for myself a little better than I have been lately.
“No dice, honey.” The guy at the door says. The patrons in the line are glaring at me, but I flash my hand.
“I just came out for a little air.” I say, gesturing to the stamp with my eyes.
“Sorry, we’re all full up, honey.”
I’m starting to get that anger building up and it’s giving me a little more strength than usual.
“I was just in there and no else has gone in. I have to meet up with my friend.”
The bouncer looks me up and down and I get that feeling I’ve had when appraised similarly. I know what he’s thinking; maybe a little fun for a one-time thing, but only when there’s no other option.
“Maybe later, sugar.” He says, letting a tall blonde through from a few spots back in the line.
“What do you mean, later?” I asked, getting a little bit of an edge to my tone. Right as I speak the words, bouncer-guy appears behind the doorman.
“Maybe when you’ve taken off a few.” He sneers.
The blow hits me hard. It’s not like it’s the first time I’ve heard disparaging comments, but the audience makes it even worse. I see the two guys in the front of the line wince, then smile, though trying hard to avoid being rude.
The look on the doorman’s face is what pisses me off more than anything. I note a look on bouncer-guy’s face. He taps the doorman on the shoulder and he looks back over his shoulder. Some words are exchanged and the doorman slides into the club and disappears.
As bouncer-guy takes his place, I will the tears welling in my eyes not to fall and flash my stamped hand once again, defiantly.
“Welcome back, miss.” He says, unclipping the rope that’s preventing my return.
This hits me just about as hard as the doorman’s words. Not that they were mean, just that the whole thing was so much different than I expected. His tone was welcoming and almost apologetic, but that isn’t even the part that throws me off the most. It’s his voice. I mean, it’s so much different than I would have ever expected. Soft, yet confident, with a buttery inflection that melts away some of my anger. I smile and mutter a thanks, passing him by, not trusting myself to be able to express anything clearly. The club enfolds me once again in its noise and heat as I slink back to my table.
“Hey, I was wondering if you were coming back.” Anjelica says, sipping on her drink; this time a bright pink number with a little fizz to it.
I smile at her, my mind still on bouncer-guy. “Yeah, just needed some air. It’s a little hot in here tonight.”
Anjelica does a little shimmy to a beat in the song playing. “Hot as in, hot guys, you mean.” She grins. I’m just not feeling it anymore, but at least it’s conversation.
“If you’re talking about the bouncer-guy, I just saw him at the door.” I say, my own mind replaying the scene over and over again as if he had told me something romantic other than just letting me inside.
Anjelica rolls her eyes. “I wouldn’t get your hopes up on that one.” She responds. “I’m thinking he plays for the other team, if you know what I mean.”
“I don’t get that at all.” I say. “What makes you think that?”
I already know why; the question is merely a formality. She must have made the moves on him and he didn’t show any, or enough, interest in her. I don’t know, maybe he’s actually focused on doing his job instead of macking on sluts? I immediately regret the thought. It’s mean-spirited, and usually I try to avoid that. With Anjelica, though, sometimes that can be hard.
“Gay-dar.” She says, pressing a manicured nail to her temple. “I always know.”
I laugh. “Well, I can still dream though, can’t I?” I know it’s best to just let it slide. She wouldn’t be convinced until she had his dick in her mouth. The thought of it, of bouncer-guy, makes me tingle and I hope that it doesn’t show in my face.
“You can.” She says. “Hey, do you mind if I catch a ride home with someone?” She looks as if she feels like she’s already overstayed with me at the table for the majority of the time she’s been here. I’m not even sure why she’s asking, it’s not like it doesn’t happen every time we’re out.
“Yeah, I was thinking I’d probably call it a night in a little bit.” I say, knowing full-well that I probably would have hung around for longer tonight, just to get a few more looks at bouncer-guy. “You go be you, Jelica.”
She smiles and shakes her ass. I don’t know if it’s for me or for the crowd that is probably staring at that skinny little piece of meat. I realize my mood has definitely soured and there’s really no point in being here much longer.
Anjelica takes a last draw on the straw and I can actually hear the slurping at the bottom of the drink over the bumping bass line of the music. “Don’t wait up.” She grins.
I know I wouldn’t have to wait up. Either she won’t come home, or when she does, the noise of her fucking some random dude will wake me up.
Sitting alone again, I realize that it’s definitely time to go. The girl in the mirror is long gone, as well as the confidence she had managed to give me, i
f only briefly. At the very least, I’ll get one more good look at him, I think. Maybe I’ll even be bold enough to tell him good night. Probably not, I realize as I stand and make sure I have all my things.
The kiss makes me feel warm inside. His arms are wrapped around my waist, almost uncomfortably tight. I can feel his beard around my lips, even smell the oil that keeps it so soft. My head is upturned, since he’s so much taller than me. I almost want to come up off the ground to be closer and tighter in that embrace. I can feel his biceps pressed tightly against the outside of my breasts as he holds me tight, his lips so much softer than I ever would have imagined. The kiss slowly breaks and he whispers to me, those soft brown eyes full of compassion.
“Will you be returning, Miss?”
The words and that voice startle me out of my reverie. “No…I’m going home, thanks.” I stutter, then find some strength I didn’t even know I had. “Thanks for letting me back in earlier.”
“He’s new.” Bouncer-guy says, with an apologetic smile. “It takes me a while to knock the asshole out of them sometimes. I hope you have a good evening and we see you again soon.”
Even just those words warm me a little. “Thanks.” I blurt out, the bravery having been all used up with my last few words to him. My little fantasy was creeping back in as well, making things difficult, but he was just being a nice guy. Got to keep telling myself that.
I walk a dozen steps down the street in the direction of my car before looking back over my shoulder for one last glance, something positive to remember from this wasted evening. I almost give myself whiplash turning back around when I realize he’s watching me, but he looks away as quickly as I do.
Chapter Four: Avery
Pretty good crowd. I survey the dance floor and the bar from one of my favorite positions. It’s good to not be on the door, but I know I should keep a close eye on the new guy. My Goddess isn’t here yet, so I keep an eye out on the crowd. Just like back in the day, I’m mentally inventorying all of the club-goers, looking for anything that signals an intent beyond just having a good time. It’s a habit. Since I’ve been working here, there’s been nothing more out of the ordinary than a few belligerent drunks and a catfight or two; the guys usually take it outside and I don’t give a fuck what happens out there between consenting adults.
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