The parking lot was packed when I arrived at the club. Unlike a week ago, I wasn’t nervous as I got out of my car and walked to the glass door that was blacked out with a cellophane lining.
Usually, I arrived at a strip club dressed in pants, a comfortable shirt, boots and, more importantly, with my gun. This time I had on a simple plum dress and black heels. Inside my clutch purse was my cell, money, Driver’s License, lip gloss, gum and my business cards—I felt naked to say the least.
After paying the cover, I entered the darkened room with neon lights and a disco ball. The bass of the music thumped as if it were a nightclub. There were several small round stages with polls running up to the ceiling and women dancing topless in front of men. In the back was a bigger stage where another dancer worked the crowd. She hung upside down, her legs spread and her tits dangling as men tossed money onto the stage.
I spotted Leah and Nina sitting at the farthest stage away from the door—as if they were scouting the place. They waved me over when they saw me and I smiled and walked over to them. We exchanged hugs in greeting.
“Come here often?” I joked.
“Every night.” Leah laughed.
Nina waved at a waitress. “Let’s get you a drink and scope out the place for you. We just arrived, so we haven’t had a good look.”
I wasn’t sure what I was really looking for other than a client. What I knew was clients came to us, not the other way around. We weren’t prostitutes. We weren’t selling ourselves, so I needed to follow their lead and not look like the narc that I was.
“I have to admit I’ve never picked up clients in a strip club.” I reminded them. The waitress came over and I ordered a margarita.
Leah laughed. “That’s not how they roll in D.C.?”
I smiled. “Well, not me, that’s for sure.”
“Was the president your client?” Nina asked.
I raised an eyebrow at her. “Do you think that if the president was my client that I would leave him to come to Vegas?”
“Wouldn’t he just send his private jet?” Leah asked.
The cocktail waitress set our drinks down and I handed her my credit card, telling her that I was paying for all the drinks and to leave the tab open.
“You don’t need to buy our drinks,” Nina protested.
“President’s money,” I joked and we laughed. “But seriously, you think he’d spend the tax payer’s money to send his private jet to pick up his escort for a date?”
They laughed. “No,” Leah replied, “but we think he’d spend it to fly in so he could fuck her.”
I choked on my drink. Did they all sleep with their clients? “The President is not my client,” I exclaimed and left it at that. Somehow I needed to find out if they slept with their clients so I knew how to play my angle.
And then it hit me …
Did Paul sleep with his clients?
“I’ll be right back.” I needed a minute as I gathered my new thoughts on Paul. I didn’t care if Leah and Nina slept with their clients. But Paul … the thought of him doing more than kissing one of his clients squeezed my heart.
Staring into the mirror, I took a deep breath.
“Are you okay?”
I turned to my left and saw that I wasn’t the only one in the restroom. “I’m fine. Thank you.”
“Are you here with your boyfriend?”
I smiled. “No, my friends.” Did girls come to strip clubs with their boyfriends?
“Girls night out?” she asked, applying her scarlet lipstick. The red was a nice contrast to her light ebony skin tone and straight black hair.
“Something like that.”
“You’re not here with Leah and Nina are you?”
I tilted my head to the side slightly. “Yeah, do you know them?”
“Kinda. My boss has been trying to recruit them for years.”
I raised my eyebrow. “Your boss? Who’s your boss?”
She returned the cap on her lipstick then stuck it in her purse. “Mr. Martinez.”
“What does he do?”
“You hang with those two and you don’t know who he is?”
I leaned against the porcelain sink and crossed my arms. “I’m new in town.”
“Oh, then you’re perfect.” She eyed me up and down with her brown eyes.
“Perfect for what?”
Before she could reply, the door opened and Leah walked in. She eyed the girl from head to toe, rolling her eyes as she turned to me. “Hey, are you okay? I came to check on you.”
I smiled. “Yeah, I’m fine. I was just coming out.” I smiled tightly at the mysterious girl.
I wanted to hand her my card because the way she talked about this Mr. Martinez guy had me intrigued. Maybe he recruited for another escort service, but I wanted to find out. Instead, I walked past her because I didn’t want Leah to see my interest and made my way back to the table where we sat and watched topless women dance. The dancers couldn’t be fully nude in Vegas if the establishment served alcohol.
“Who’s Mr. Martinez?” I asked Leah and Nina as we scanned the floor.
Their eyes widened as they looked at each other and then they both answered in unison. “No one.”
“What do you mean no one? Obviously he’s someone.”
“You don’t want to get involved with him,” Leah avowed.
“The girl …” I paused, realizing I never got her name. “The girl I met in the bathroom said I would be perfect for him.”
“He’s not a client,” Nina said curtly.
I took a sip of my drink. “What is he?” I already knew he wasn’t someone who paid for escorts, but I wanted to know who he was.
“Look, Andi,” Leah begged, “just trust us. S&R is a good company to work for. Stick with them, okay? You don’t want to get mixed up with Martinez and his crew.”
I decided not to press her further on the subject tonight, but I was going to find out who this guy was. I’d do my own research in the FBI database if I had to.
“See anyone worth approaching?” Nina asked a few minutes later.
“How do I know?”
“Who’s giving out the most money?”
I scanned the room. This was an upscale strip club. There were no three dollar cheeseburgers with two dollar shots, and no creepy dudes sitting in the front row in plain white T-shirts that only stared at the dancers and didn’t give them any money. No, this place had decent looking guys giving a few dollars at a time.
I spotted a guy who kept looking over at our table. He was dressed in a suit, maybe in his early to mid-forties, and was sipping on a beer. If he was willing to give money to a dancer, then maybe he was willing to have a date with me—it was worth a shot.
“All right. I’m going in.”
I took a final sip of my drink, stood and made my way to where he was sitting and took the chair next to him. He turned and smiled.
“Hi.” I smiled back.
“Hi.”
“Which girl is your favorite?”
He scanned the room and then his gaze landed on mine. “You.”
I chuckled. “I’m not a dancer.”
“No, but I bet you look good topless.”
I held my tongue and kept flirting. “I don’t go around flashing them.”
“Is that right? What do I have to do see them?” He turned his chair a little toward me.
“First you can start by buying me a drink.” Before I could finish asking for one, a cocktail waitress placed it on the bar that wrapped around the mini stage. “Okay. I see how you work.”
“Now what?”
I thought quickly as I took a sip of my margarita. “Are you from here?”
“On business.”
“So you come here while your wife is at home with the kids.”
He smiled and took a pull of his beer. “Something like that.”
“Besides strip clubs, what else do you like to do in Vegas?”
“I like to try my luck at craps.”
“I’ll need to take you then.”
I reached inside my purse and grabbed my card then handed it to him. “I’d love that. Here’s my card.”
“Andi … Andi with an I.” He smiled.
“And you are?”
“Derrick.”
“Thank you for the drink, Derrick.” I tipped the drink toward him and stood. “Contact me if you want company at the craps tables.”
“I will Andi with an I.”
Approaching a potential client on my own wasn’t that bad after all.
Chapter Twelve
Paul
Finally, it was Saturday night.
It felt as if I were still in high school—except in high school I’d had more confidence. Usually, I had a date on Saturdays with clients, but I’d made sure to have the day off. I wasn’t worried about the money I’d miss out on—I was going to be with the most beautiful woman in Vegas. It was worth it.
All week it was hard to see Andi. It was almost as if we were dating, but we weren’t. Every time I saw her, I wanted to just … kiss her. If we were dating, I could wrap her in my arms and kiss her whenever I wanted, but we weren’t so I couldn’t. I had to be a perfect gentleman when I saw her.
During the week I’d had to leave a few times to go on a couple of dates, which felt awkward, but I hadn’t had sex with any of the clients I went on dates with. It wasn’t as if I could get “in trouble” for not having sex with clients. We weren’t hired to sleep with them. We were hired for dates—companionship. If things led to sex, then they led to sex. I, however, had my eye on my new roommate and I didn’t want anyone else, so at the end of the date, I’d tell them I had a nice time and call it a night. I didn’t even care if they re-booked anymore. Each time I thought about forgetting the escort thing. I didn’t need it anymore. I had my new business with Gabe and Autumn and I was happy doing it. Happier. I felt alive now that Gabe and I were shooting again and teaching women how to defend themselves.
When I became an escort, it was my way to forget about Vanessa, but I no longer needed to forget about her and what she’d done. I was ready to move on. Even if Andi and I just went out for the night, it was a step in the right direction.
While Andi got ready in her room, I showered then changed into a pair of dark denim jeans and a black button-down shirt. After combing my hair back, I rolled up my long sleeves and went out to the living room where I waited for her to be ready. When she came out, I wanted to tell her how good she looked in her tight jeans and sparkly top. How good she smelled as she stepped closer to me. How fucking perfect she was.
But I had a plan.
“I’ll pick you up at seven.” I grabbed my keys, my wallet, and my cell phone and started to walk toward the garage.
“Um, it’s 6:55 now.”
“Seven o’clock, gorgeous.” I closed the door to the house from the garage before she could respond. After starting up my Jeep, I backed it out of the garage, drove around the block and stopped in front of our house so I could pick her up for a proper date.
At seven o’clock sharp I stepped out of the Jeep and walked to the front door. I knocked and waited for Andi to open the door. She smiled brightly when she answered it.
“Damn,” I said, dragging out the word. “Gorgeous, you’re stunning.”
She looked down at herself and then back up to my eyes. “Thank you.”
I reached out my hand. “Ready?”
“Is it seven?”
I narrowed my eyes at her. “You’re lucky I love your feisty mouth.” She blushed and grabbed my hand. “You’re cute when you blush.”
“Let’s go, Paul,” she groaned and I laughed. This was going to be fun and I couldn’t wait.
“Are you going to tell me where we’re going?” Andi asked, breaking the silence. We’d barely driven out of our neighborhood.
“How do you feel about heights?”
Her eyes became huge. “Seriously?” I nodded and returned my gaze to the road. “What if I say I don’t like them?”
I shrugged and glanced at her. “Too bad.”
“Paul!”
“Are you scared of them?” I chuckled.
“I’m deathly afraid of them.”
“Aw, gorgeous, you have me. I won’t let anything happen to you.”
“You can’t save me from falling to my death.”
I grabbed her hand and looked into her eyes as we stopped at a red light. “We’re not going to fall to our death. Trust me.”
“I trust you. It’s whatever’s in the sky I don’t trust. Which is …?”
“The world’s largest observation wheel.”
“The Ferris wheel on the strip?”
“It’s not a Ferris wheel.” I laughed, shaking my head. “Each pod’s enclosed and can hold up to forty people. Worse case, you can go to the middle and not look down.”
“I don’t know about this, Paul.”
I squeezed her hand. “We’re going to dinner at The LINQ first. You have time to prepare. If you really don’t want to do it when we get there, you don’t have to. But I promise it’s not that bad. Plus it’s the best view of Vegas, especially at night.”
She groaned and turned her head to look at the window and I smiled. She was going to go up on the High Roller even if I had to carry her. I could have taken Andi to any number of nice restaurants on the strip, but we were wined and dined all the time, so I wanted to take her somewhere casual. I wanted to show her Vegas and not have to drive out of town to see the view.
After valet parking, I grabbed Andi’s hand and led her through the casino to the restaurant where we were going to eat. I was starting to get used to having her hand in mine. It felt like a natural thing for us to be doing. Maybe it was because the casino was crowded and it was easier for her to follow me. I didn’t care. I loved the feel of her skin, and if I needed to enforce a death grip, I would.
A few minutes into our walk through the casino, Andi turned her head to me. “First you told me to dress up and then you changed your mind and you told me to dress casual.” It was as if she’d just remembered I said we were going to dinner and not only to The High Roller.
I smiled. “I know.”
“Where are we going to eat then?”
“Why do you always ask so many questions?” We stepped around a group of rowdy drunks trying to decide where to go or something.
“I always know the plan before I do things.”
“Even on personal dates?” She nodded and I stared at her for a beat, trying not to run into people as we walked and then I glanced up. “We’re here.”
“Guy Fieri’s restaurant?”
“Do you watch the Food Network?”
“Sometimes.” She licked her lips and I groaned.
“Hungry?”
“Starving.”
We waited twenty minutes at Guy Fieri’s Vegas Kitchen & Bar to be seated in the rustic bar type restaurant. I chose the place because the High Roller was only about a five minute walk outside the doors. Once we left, Andi could look at the wheel and make her final decision. It was 550 feet tall and took thirty minutes to make a full turn. I knew I could talk her into doing it for thirty minutes, even if I had to wrap her in my arms the entire time.
“Do you always order a margarita?” I asked her after the waiter left from taking our order.
“I’m not much of a drinker, but you can get a lot of different flavors with margaritas and tequila. How about you, what’s your poison? I see you ordered tequila, too.”
“That’s true. I’ve always been a tequila man myself, especially when I can lick it off of you.” I smirked.
She laughed, placing her hand over her stomach. “Wow … okay. How often do you use that line?”
The waiter came back and placed our
drinks down. “I’ve never used the line on someone before. Body shots just happen.” I winked at her before I took a sip of my tequila and coke.
“You might have to show me that talent one day.” I choked a little on my drink but before I could respond she asked, “So how long have you been in the business?”
I wasn’t sure why she’d changed the subject. I liked the flirty Andi, and I wanted to lick tequila and salt off of every inch of her, but I didn’t press her on the matter. Instead, I answered her question with a sigh. “Long enough.”
“You sound like you don’t enjoy it.”
Looking into the eyes of the woman asking me the question felt like a million light bulbs going off. I wanted to tell her how I felt about her, but it was hard because I didn’t know how she felt about me. I really liked her. I wanted to see where things could go between us since we lived together. I didn’t want it to be awkward at all. I’d already gotten my heart broken once and I was ready to move on with my life, but I wasn’t sure I was ready to tell a woman I was ready to move on with her. I wanted to get to know her—in more ways than one, but was I ready to actually quit S&R?
“I’m starting to realize I want more out of life.”
“You’ve never been in a serious relationship before?”
I sighed then took a long sip of my drink, contemplating if I wanted to tell her about Vanessa. After a few seconds, I realized that getting into a deep conversation about Vanessa wasn’t something I wanted to do on a first date even if Andi and I lived together. If we did want to give whatever this was between us a chance, then maybe I would eventually tell her that I was in love once. Everyone had been in love before.
“It’s been a long time, gorgeous. A really long time.”
Before she could ask me to elaborate on the subject, the waiter dropped off our food and the subject was changed—thank God. We ate our food for a bit and then we picked up on more of the conversation.
“How are you liking Vegas?” I asked moments later after we’d gushed about how delicious the food was.
Tequila & Lace Page 9