Total pages in book: 30
Estimated words: 27770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 27770 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 139(@200wpm)___ 111(@250wpm)___ 93(@300wpm)
The alarm on my phone sounds. I shut it off and then power down my workstation. I know that once I leave, the others will sit around and gab for the rest of the day. It’s what employees do and is another reason why I had to come to Portland to fix their shit.
“I’m gone for the rest of the day,” I say as I walk out the door. I don’t bother pinpointing my message to anyone in particular.
I tap the address Scotlyn gave me and see how bad traffic is and whether I can walk or not. I turn on the guidance for walking and set out to find the bistro where we’re meeting. While I like Portland, I miss Texas. Mostly the weather and the food. I love the Texas heat. The “authentic” restaurants downtown are okay and they’re trying their best, but the food back home is better.
After a twenty-minute walk, which should’ve taken me ten if there hadn’t been a group of people having a dance battle on the street corner that I stopped to watch, and then taking a wrong turn, I arrive at the restaurant a little later than planned. Thankfully, Scotlyn has the day off and didn’t sound too upset when I texted her to let her know I was running late.
The host shows me to the table. The bistro is definitely worth the walk. It’s in an open-air mall and the ceiling over the restaurant is all glass. Very chic. When I get to the table, I kiss Scotlyn on her cheek. She holds her cheek against my lips. Or at least I think she does. I could be imagining it because it’s what I want.
“I’m sorry for keeping you waiting.”
“Not a problem,” she says. “Do you have to go back soon?”
“No, I’m done for the day.” I put my napkin in my lap, along with my clasped hands. “I figured if I’m having lunch with a gorgeous woman on a beautiful day, I might as well take the rest of the day off and enjoy my fortune.”
“Ah, that’s so sweet.” Scotlyn blushes. “I’m glad we could do this. Honestly, I’m glad your friends brought you into the club the other night.”
“They’re definitely not my friends,” I tell her. “I’m their boss and I think they invited me to be nice. As much as I wish I hadn’t seen what I had, I am grateful.”
“It’s not that bad, ya know.”
“So you said the other night.”
We pause our conversation when the waiter arrives to take our drink order. I stick with water, while Scotlyn orders a glass of white wine.
“And if you remember,” she says after the waiter leaves. “I also told you no one is there against their will. Society X is a well-run establishment and highly sought after. I was lucky to get the job I have.”
“No high turnover?”
She shakes her head. “People tend to stay there for a long time or as long as their bodies can handle it. But it’s not just dancing.”
“Right, the rooms.”
She nods. “Those and if you need entertainment for a function.”
I can’t help but smile, and not in a good way. “What kind of function requires stripping?”
Scotlyn adjusts in her chair. “Have you ever been to a casino?”
I nod.
“Did any of the tables have dancers on them?”
Another nod.
“Imagine your firm having a casino night. If you want it to be like Vegas, you bring in dancers. At Society X, you can hire any of the dancers for your event. Or, say you need someone to carry those giant cards with whatever round it is for a boxing match. Our staff does those sorts of things.”
“What about jumping out of a cake?”
Scotlyn’s eyes widen. “Yes!”
“I get it,” I tell her. “It’s just not my thing.”
Even though I’m going to hopefully utilize a feature.
“It’s not for everyone.”
“So, I’ve got to ask, do you feel comfortable working at the club? I’m not judging, but it feels so different from what your dreams were when we were in high school. I’m just curious. I don’t know, I guess I feel this way because I’ve never been into a strip club before.”
The waiter returns with our drinks and asks for our order. I haven’t even looked at the menu because I’m too busy admiring Scotlyn. I glance quickly, see a club sandwich, and tell the waiter. Scotlyn orders an alfredo pasta dish, which sounds delicious.
“Of course, I feel comfortable at the club,” she says, laughing as if it’s an absurd question. “Our security guys are the best.” She shrugs and smiles. “I feel safer there than anywhere else in the city.”
Our food arrives and we take a few minutes to dig in.
“Okay, now tell me what’s going on with you. Married, divorced, kids?” she asks.
“None of the above,” I tell her and then add, “No girlfriend, either. Or boyfriend.”