Page 73 of Morally Corrupt
Sometime later, I manage to pull myself together long enough to approach this more calmly. One look out the window tells me it's already night—just the perfect time for what I have in mind. I know I need answers from one more place before I confront her.
I put on my blazer and stride from my workplace, heading determinedly to my car—my destination club Palace.
Taking my phone out, I hesitate before sending Bianca a short text that I'll be working late. At this point, I don't even know what she might be capable of.
I get to the club, and it doesn't take long for the bouncer to check my name against their customer list. For a strip club, Palace is incredibly anal about its privacy, probably because so many important people in high positions are customers. Another reason might be the fact that the upstairs rooms function as boudoirs for those seeking a little extra.
Once inside, I figure my best chances at finding some answers are by asking the manager and maybe talking to some girls.
It's not easy to find my way to the manager's office, and indeed, it's not easy to convince him that I'm not some psycho obsessed with one of their girls. I actually have to show him my credentials for him to give me a chance.
"Pink, you say?" He purses his lips.
"Yes, around five years ago," I add, not entirely sure when she stopped working here.
Or if… but that's something I'm not ready to consider just yet.
"I think I may remember who you're talking about. But only because she was very odd."
"Odd? What do you mean?"
"She was always by herself, never interacting with any of the other girls. Didn't really care about tips or other opportunities. In this business, that's very odd. If my memory serves right, one day, she just disappeared. Stopped coming altogether."
"And do you remember when that was?"
"Not sure, but it was a long time ago."
"Thank you. Are there any girls who were here at the same time as her?"
"Let me see…" He goes to his computer, probably checking his employee charts.
"Yes, there is one. Anais. She's actually working tonight." Before I leave, I get a description of the girl and her dancing schedule and head towards the main stage of the club. Taking a seat, I now wait for the show.
Halfway through the set and three girls left until Anais, I am bored out of my mind. I keep checking my watch, and the time seems to move even slower than before. I almost groan in frustration.
I raise my head and scan the club, my eyes zeroing in on pink hair. I blink twice, clearly not seeing right, and it disappears.
Of course, at this point, I'm probably hallucinating. I'm clearly running on borrowed energy. One just needs to make a list of everything I found out in one week, my attempted assassination notwithstanding, to conclude I'm owed a respite.
I settle a little more comfortably into my seat.
Out of nowhere, I feel a hand on my shoulder from behind and hot breath in my ear.
"Long time no see, handsome." My head almost snaps at that sound. Surely not? I take a deep breath and turn around. Surely yes.
Pink, in all her glory, fishnets included.
I struggle to keep a straight face.
"Pink!" I will myself to exclaim, surprised, but glad to see her. Inside my head, questions pile on top of questions. Does she know I know? What is she doing here? Fuck… Fuck…
She drapes herself on top of me without any preliminaries, her ass digging purposefully into my crotch. The proximity allows me to take a good look at my deceiver.
Her pink hair is styled as it's always been—short bob with bangs. The difference in makeup, the green contacts, and the fake beauty mark on top of her upper lip make her unrecognizable.
At least I wasn't that stupid.I reluctantly tell myself.
Her face contouring is harsh, making her naturally soft face all angles. No way I would have ever considered Pink to be Bianca if proof of it hadn't stared me right into the eyes.