She earned a thousand dollars from that one customer that night. She was surprised at how easy it was. Because in the dark, it didn’t matter.
In the dark, it didn’t happen.
* * *
Joey saw the guy in the stupid gold crown a second before he saw her, and when their eyes met, he waved. Yep, same idiot from outside. Plastering a smile on her face, she sauntered over to the table. She counted seven of them, not much older than she was, maybe mid-twenties at most. She was told there’d be eight, so one wasn’t here yet.
The gold crown guy had to be the one getting married, so Joey focused her attention on him.
“All hail the king,” she said, and the table of guys laughed.
“I knew you were gorgeous under that big coat, China doll.” Gold Crown’s loud voice carried easily over the music as his eyes feasted on her body. He patted his thighs. “Come and sit on my lap.”
“Bro, she won’t just sit on you,” the friend next to him said, rolling his eyes. “You have to pay her first.”
Joey poked his crown. “So I hear tomorrow’s the big day?”
“Fuck, no,” he said with a grin. “The guest of honor went to make a phone call. What’s your name, China doll?”
“My name is Ruby,” Joey said. “And for the right price, I’ll let you polish my gem.”
A roar of laughter followed. It was such a stupid line, but it was always a hit.
“I’m Jake,” he said, and then proceeded to go around the table introducing everybody. It was completely unnecessary because she didn’t care, and there was no way she’d remember. By the time he was back where he started, she’d already forgotten his name.
Fleur, one of the VIP cocktail waitresses, brought over a tray of shots.
“You ordered ten?” one of the guys said. His expression was glazed as he watched Fleur place them on the table, his words heavy and slurred. “But there’s only eight of us.” Thersh only eight of ush.
“That’s because these two are for the ladies.” Jack—or was it Jake?—handed Joey and Fleur their own shots, and then he looked around the table with a grin. “Bottoms up, motherfuckers.”
Joey exchanged a look with Fleur, who shrugged and slammed hers back like it was nothing. Joey followed suit, the liquid searing its way down the back of her throat. She found whiskey revolting. The taste and smell reminded her of Tito Micky.
But those were Joey’s memories, and Joey wasn’t here tonight.
She leaned over Jack-or-Jake, her barely covered breasts right in his face. “How about a private dance while we’re waiting for your friend?” she said into his ear.
“Not so fast, baby,” he said with a grin. “I want to see what I’m getting first.”
He pulled out his wallet and made a big show of extracting a twenty. Every group had a guy who wanted to show off to his buddies. She picked up the twenty and cocked an eyebrow.
“Sweetie, this won’t even get my dress off.”
All the guys at the table laughed as Joey held his gaze. It was an unspoken challenge, and they all knew it.
He replaced the twenty with a fifty. “What does this buy me?”
She smiled at him just as the song changed. Prince’s “Kiss” started playing, which was perfect, because not only was the song the exact right tempo, it was only three and a half minutes long.
Showtime.
Keeping her eyes on Jack-or-Jake, she began moving her body. She knew she wasn’t the best dancer—Cherry had said as much during her audition—but she’d worked hard to improve over the past year. In any case, it didn’t matter all that much. There were naked women all over the club, and any of them could move just fine. The thing that made it special—the thing that made the customer want more—was how you made him feel.
And that was Ruby’s specialty.
The hoots and cheers of the guys at the table were loud at first, but they got further away as Ruby took over. Joey’s mind began to drift. She reminded herself to try Mae again on her break, assuming she even got a break tonight. Cherry had been made aware of the locker break-in but had declined to call the cops, not wanting to scare off the customers on a big money night. She felt Jack-or-Jake’s hand on her thigh and absently moved it away. Nice try, asshole. Not for fifty bucks.
She peeled off her dress, placing the gold fabric around his neck like a scarf while his buddies cheered. Her bikini top came off next, and she tossed it onto the table, where three of the guys immediately grabbed for it. Then she picked up the last whiskey shot, the one that was meant for the guy who was getting married tomorrow who wasn’t even here. She poured it over her breasts, rubbing the liquid into her bare nipples.