Goodbye, Good Girl

by Renee Blossom

  “How far would you like to go?” She had to raise her voice over the music.

  He moaned. Had he just finished?

  “Was that exceptional?” Kandace asked him.

  “Oh yes. Can you stay?”

  His pants were marked by a dark circle. The song ended, and the manager got Kandace’s attention.

  “I’ve gotta move on, but maybe I’ll see you later?”

  “I’d like that,” he said and handed her folded cash.

  “Thank you, that’s my rent money.”

  She handed the cash off to the silver suit as they moved on and Kandace wondered how the club kept track of all her money.

  Don’t worry. Management had taken care of her so far, to the extent Kandace felt like a celebrity with an entourage as she was guided through the club among tables to her next customer. A group of four wanted a table dance and she left no one feeling unwanted. They paid homage often with folded green and compliments.

  Management told Kandace to return to her station, and she couldn’t understand why. She held her tongue—her table complained enough—remembering April’s advice about doing what management said. She swallowed her annoyance and waved for her attentive fans.

  She fell into her station chair and promptly guzzled a large water bottle. With a cold towel on her shoulders and neck, she sprayed mist on her face. She sat back, as her heart pounded. Was she more winded than she thought? She didn’t feel it.

  This is the best job ever.

  New clothes were at her station. She dressed and then downed another water. There was a chocolate power bar next to a note—Have a great first night! So very nice meeting you! God bless! Noel.

  The power bar didn’t survive long. She thought back to Noel’s prayer for protection, how those words had touched her. Noel didn’t know the real Kandace, but she had listened. And she embraced the girl from Pittsburgh who needed a new path, even if society judged her taking it for just one night.

  Dancing wasn’t bad. The club wasn’t bad. And April had been right—so far, no one had made her do anything she didn’t want to do.

  Dancers were buzzing. Mist. Wipe. Retouch. Towel. New clothes. Suddenly all those yellow arrows on the floor marking lanes and directions made total sense—they were necessary.

  Kandace had makeup retouched by a woman in a hurry. She was called to the floor and gave four more lap dances before management sent her backstage again. Customers were nice. Complimentary. Very interested in learning more about her. She couldn’t believe how the night flew by.

  Trey, her favorite manager so far, escorted her to a secured area backstage. There, he pulled garters and a high-waisted black silk belt—embroidered with real diamonds, Trey explained—from a locked closet. A red strapless dress, long and form-fitting, complemented by a deep plunge. It felt like celebrity attire. Or royalty. Trey slid a gold and ruby necklace on her, then put in beautiful diamond earrings—Kandace could only guess how many karats they were.

  “To be clear, these jewels and clothes belong to the club,” Trey explained. “They go on your number, so you won’t get paid until you return them in good order.”

  “Got it,” Kandace said, admiring those beautiful smoky eyes and richly tanned, smooth skin. Wispy eyebrows and auburn hair like waves. Intelligent ruby lips. A bare neck and shoulders, her jewels were perfect. Who was she?

  “Time to go, gorgeous,” Trey said, smiling at her and Kandace realized she’d been standing there awhile.

  She rode the elevator to the third floor, then down a quiet hall. Big double doors opened to the Champagne Room, a members-only area.

  Five men sat on camel hair sofas amongst champagne and casual conversation, intense fire. Quiet jazz played. They stood at her entrance, smiling warmly. When they introduced themselves, she tried to remember their names. Were they in their forties? Fifties? She couldn’t tell. They were business partners, they said, but from different cities. They were in the hospital business, from what Kandace overheard as they discussed specifics about one site or another. They used jargon and passed around a tablet computer. Business talk changed to the baseball playoffs.

  Two leggy dancers in glamorous dresses joined them. Kandace smiled, and they smiled back. Their names were Jasmine and Lola, and they sat across from Kandace on the opposite sofa.

  Dinner arrived. Beef and venison. Sushi. Crab and lobster, swordfish, and oysters. Kandace was surprised when a plate was prepared for her and again at how much she liked everything. The red wine was smooth, a different vintage for each course. Kandace listened to their conversation and laughed at their jokes.

  This must be what it’s like dating the rich.

  Be the perfect girlfriend. Listen. Speak only if spoken to. He will tell you what he wants.

  She enjoyed the roaring fire. Lingering sweet tobacco. Malt liquor, hazelnut, and chocolate.

  The room started to spin as the evening progressed and she switched to drinking water instead of wine.

  The man closest to Kandace, an Asian man named Hideki, eyed her with confidence. It felt natural when he asked her to sit on his lap. She sat ladylike and slid her arm behind him. He snaked a hand through her hair and said, “Tell me about you.”

  “What about me?” She thought he might ask her age and decided she had to say twenty-one, and she considered he might not believe her.

  “Everything,” he said and breathed in deeply of her hair. “Exquisite. Tell me, where are you from?”

  “Pennsylvania.”

  “Ah. I’ve never been. Philadelphia?”

  The short-haired blond man on the adjacent sofa cut in. “Well, now you have a reason to go, don’t you? Of course, you must visit your new teenage mistress.” He laughed harder than called for.

  Hideki didn’t look away from Kandace. “Pay Albert no attention; he’s mean when drunk. The man can’t hold his liquor.”

  “I’ll drink you under the table. And be careful of Hideki, young lady.”

  “I like her where she is,” Hideki said. “You know, this is a nice club, Albert. Maybe they have boys on staff, just for you?”

  “Can it, Hideki. Albert… sit down. Have another drink. You two fighting is upsetting my date,” the bearded man on the opposite side said. The dancer on his lap was very friendly. Kandace couldn’t remember his name, but she determined him to be the alpha of the pack. She wasn’t sure if Albert wanted to leave or to fight. He was far from intimidating, but she didn’t want trouble.

  Hideki smiled at Kandace in a clever way and winked. Kandace liked him. He seemed passionate, uncommonly charming. Albert sat down, watching Hideki while he eased onto the camel hair sofa.

  “You’ll figure him out soon enough,” Albert said.

  Hideki didn’t respond, but instead reached for his champagne flute and held it up to Albert, then drank from it.

  “Would you like a dance?” Kandace asked, and Hideki seemed to consider this.

  “Not yet. I’d like to hear more about you. So, you’re from Philadelphia?”

  “Pittsburgh, actually.”

  “Ah. Did you like living there?”

  Albert cut in. “Did? She’s got school in the morning. It’s past her bedtime.”

  “Autumn, I must apologize for my companion.” Hideki paused a moment then clicked his fingers in the air. “Can we get some cocaine for Albert?”

  The men laughed, save for Albert, who stood and left the room. When making fun of Albert had lost its luster, Hideki drained his champagne and set his glass aside, a relaxed look about him. His eyes were focused.

  “So… Pittsburgh? Is that much like St. Louis?”

  “A lot, yes, but smaller. Pittsburgh isn’t so… big city. Not nearly as much traffic.”

  He smiled. “Sure, sure. So, how long have you lived in St. Louis?”

  “I got here today,” Kandace said.

  “Ah. You’re one of those girls. Moving city to city, never staying in the same place. Great way to see the world, I bet.”

  See
the world? As a stripper? Kandace’s thoughts went wild with possibilities.

  Hideki continued, “The world is a beautiful place. A beauty like you shouldn’t be kept to one place, one people. The world should see you. Good for you. I love to travel. It’s why I do what I do.”

  He went on about himself, places he’d been, monuments, parks, buildings and sacred sites around the globe. He’d been to mosques and magnificent churches, museums with famous paintings. Kandace was quite impressed. He had girlfriends. He had four wives. Kandace wondered if the women knew about each other. He had not told anyone these things before. And though she doubted such secrecy, she felt privileged to know his story.

  He smiled to himself, furtively looking away from Kandace and said, “I have a special desire. It’s… hard for some to understand.”

  They have fetishes. Some are tolerable, some are just fucking weird, April had said.

  “Do you want to tell me what it is?” Kandace asked. She felt fear at the unknown, but at the same time she hoped for an erotic and maybe playful activity. A rich man’s dirty secret.

  Kandace couldn’t figure out what he was staring at.

  “Feet. I’m in love with feet. With your feet, dear,” Hideki explained.

  Okay, not too weird.

  Kandace changed positions on the sofa and placed her feet on his lap. He delicately removed her heels by loosening the straps as though he were handling a sacred artifact. He set her shoes aside, in no apparent rush. Kandace enjoyed the massage that followed. He was very flattering. He enjoyed watching her expression in the fire’s glow as he loved on her feet. He asked for a dance and Kandace was wobbly and had to pause to find her footing. She asked him what he liked. Slow. Sensual. Kandace accommodated, and he seemed to thoroughly enjoy himself. When she slid off her dress, and he exhaled curse words, mesmerized by her body. She said nothing, just smiled back and made a show of straddling his lap.

  “May I touch you?” he asked.

  Kandace wanted to be touched—the right way. She had been envious of the other dancers and the friendly hands caressing them, wearing only the flickering glow from the fire.

  “Be gentle,” she said and placed his hands on her hips.

  “Of course.”

  He was new and exciting. And much older. And she would never see him again. And no one else would ever know what happened.

  He gasped as his fingertips traveled her highways and she wanted little more than to please him and herself at the same time. Several minutes of touching his hair, his neck and rocking her hips on his lap, he groaned. Kandace locked her hands on his shoulders and rubbed until she shook with satisfaction. He told her how he was really turned on that she came. She told him she’d been holding it in awhile.

  “Would you lie on your back? I’d like to finish with your feet, if I may,” he said.

  Kandace complied.

  A door opened, and Hideki discreetly accepted a jar and a towel from a manager. He then put the towel under Kandace’s feet, a smile on his face, loving them as he prepared them.

  Kandace liked his touch, his gentleness.

  He unzipped and lubed himself with jelly from the container, then slid himself between Kandace’s toes, working as a massage, then between her feet, held close together. She helped, using her legs until he shook with relief. He was very appreciative.

  He cleaned meticulously and sat on the sofa, then wiped Kandace’s feet. He returned to conversation about his favorite destinations and rubbed her feet for two more hours. He ordered a bottle of wine, which Kandace felt obligated to sip with him, even though she felt very warm and relaxed. They drank wine and talked until Kandace passed out on the sofa.

  12

  When Kandace’s eyes opened, she rested in a soft bed, nestled under beautiful white bedding. She noticed a vintage style ivory chair in the corner. Drapes over tall windows, overcast sunlight bleaching the room. A walnut nightstand with a marble lamp.

  This wasn’t the club. The walls were mostly white. Pretty. Aerial photos from around St. Louis. Kandace had the sensation of being high up. Her jewels and dress were gone and she couldn’t remember taking them off.

  Her thighs hurt. And her calves. Not to mention her butt.

  Anxious sweat. Her stomach felt like she’d been punched in the gut. Her throat felt like it was on fire as she rolled over on the bed and vomited on the floor. The rancid smell made her nauseated all over again, and she wanted to cool the fire in her throat. She needed to escape. She wanted to run away from herself. She vomited again, and her throat felt ravaged, as though she ate broken glass the night before.

  April appeared at her bedside and said something indecipherable. She had a paper cup of water. After slugging the third cup, she kicked off the covers and had a raspy coughing fit.

  “Hang in there. You’re past the worst of it.”

  Kandace didn’t know what to say. Or think. She felt afraid. She waited for what her body would do next. She felt hot and cold. Sweaty and repulsive.

  “What. Is. Wrong. With. Me?” Kandace said. April stayed clear of Kandace as she was flailing about, kicking at everything and nothing.

  “You’ve got to wait it out and keep drinking water. Can you sit up?”

  “What did I do?”

  “Alcohol doesn’t mix with E. Your body is fighting it out.”

  Kandace couldn’t register. “Can you make that pounding in my head go away?”

  “You need time, and you need to eat. Can you sit?”

  “No.”

  “Try,” April said.

  Kandace pushed off from her side to turn over and lift herself, and her muscles burned. April pushed from behind Kandace’s back. Sitting up, she waited several minutes for the room to stop spinning. “Why does my throat hurt this much?”

  “Drink more water. C’mon. Get up.”

  Her feet felt soft, cool carpet. She steadied herself on the side of the bed and waited.

  “Good. Just sit. Your body is adjusting,” April said. “It’s Tuesday, by the way. You’ve been purging. That’s why your throat is raw.”

  Kandace stared at her and said nothing, as gooseflesh formed all over her bare back, and she wanted little else than to wrap herself in warmth.

  She’d slept away an entire day and reality settled in like rain that took forever to start.

  She made herself mentally accept the night at the club, as she tried to remember: She had danced on stage, then lap dances. The members room upstairs. A fire. Her company, what’s his name? Hideki? They had wine. She danced for him. She couldn’t remember much more than that.

  She wanted her phone. Was it back at the club with her clothes, in her locker?

  Her father.

  Had he called back? Texted her? Guilt hit hard. Once things were going at the club, she had lost track of time. She’d forgot her purse in the locker too. What if it were stolen? Money. When did she get paid from the club?

  Focus, Kandace. Keep it together. Keep it together.

  “I need my phone,” she said. “And a blanket. I’m freezing.”

  “Oh, and I thought those bumps were just your nipples. Silly me.” April pulled the comforter off the bed and wrapped it around Kandace. “Your phone is on the bedside table. I brought your stuff.”

  Her vision focused. Her silver and less than mint condition iPhone, plugged in, her purse beside it, resting on a marble top. Kandace strained to reach without falling over, and April unplugged it and handed it to her.

  “I’ll leave you and your phone alone to get reacquainted,” April said, exiting the room.

  Phone in hand, she mistyped her passcode four times. Her fingerprint wouldn’t work. She waited. Forced several deep breaths and waited for her hand to stop shaking. She entered her code slowly, one finger, one number at a time. Unlocked. She gasped.

  How did I sleep through an entire day?

  New voicemails. New texts—Rachelle, McKenzie, and Mom, twice. Markus. Never mind the Facebook posts and likes.


  Markus’s message: Clayton in Seattle

  Seattle? Her father lived in Seattle? Why else would Clayton go there?

  Kandace messaged him back: is my dad in Seattle?

  Waiting. Seconds ticked by. Then the bubble appeared.

  Markus messaged: not likely

  Huh? Kandace texted: then why did clayton go there?

  Markus: no clue still working on location for dad

  Awesome. Now what? At least he might not be hunting her father at this second, but would that change later on? Maybe when her dad wasn’t at the house in Pittsburgh, Clayton gave up? Or just moved on to another job.

  Kandace rubbed her temples and played her mother’s voicemail: Hey, where are you on your trip? Stay safe. Call me. Her second voicemail was just like the first, as though she’d forgotten.

  Was Mom okay? She hadn’t said a word about her condition. Or the hospital. She sounded like herself. Sort of.

  Rachelle’s message was: K, hope you’re okay. Word is you’re running free, playing games somewhere and all I want to know is why you didn’t TAKE ME WITH YOU BECAUSE I’M SICK OF SCHOOL AND IT’S ONLY OCTOBER AND I HATE THE STUPID REQUIRED ORIENTATION CLASS!

  Kandace laughed, thinking of her friend going crazy at her freshman dorm—her mind’s eye watching Rachelle yelling at her phone—and played the message three times over. She dabbed the corner of her eyes as she played Mckenzie’s VM: Hey Candy, what’s happening… you and Kyle weren’t around so I’m jealous of whatever sextacular you had… gotta go.

  The text messages were similar. The eyeballs emoji was common.

  Her father hadn’t contacted her. Without an address, did it make sense to leave for California without knowing his location? She might wait around with nothing to do, nowhere to go.

  No message from Kyle. Kandace looked away from her phone and tried not to dwell on that. She tried not to wonder where he was, but couldn’t help it. Even if he was mad at her for staying in St. Louis, he should have called or at least sent a text, just to let her know he’d gotten home. She texted Kyle: are u okay?

  She waited several moments and when he didn’t respond, she called him. Straight to voicemail. Kandace didn’t want to leave a message—everything she wanted to say she didn’t want to leave on a recording.