Page 18 of For Your Eyes Only
“I’ll stop by the club tonight before the show and check on things. Make sure security’s adequate. Last night was pretty chaotic in the parking lot.”
“She won’t be there. She’s not performing tonight.”
“You said it would help morale if I showed some interest in the club. I’m showing interest.”
Also, it can’t hurt to have the other girls saying nice things about me, piquing her curiosity.
He exhales deeply. “Whatever you say boss.”
* * *
Baby powder lacedwith the pungent odor of sweat scents the air. The dressing room at the Rhino is as loud and busy as I’d expect the backstage of a strip club to be.
Girls rush in and out of small rooms, some wearing nothing but a G-string, some with sequined pasties on their nipples, all with heavy stage makeup and shimmer lotion or spray on their skin.
Even though Franco said she wouldn’t be here, my eyes scan every face, searching for hers. I don’t have a clear idea what hers looks like. Still, I feel like I would know her if I saw her. The back halls contain an assortment of blondes, brunettes, rainbow-colored wigs, and women of all shapes and skin tones.What am I doing here?
“Not much different than backstage at any other show.” Franco holds out an arm, leading me down the narrow hall to where I assume the women exit to the stage.
“I wouldn’t know.” The long-sleeves of my white linen shirt are rolled to my forearms, and I’m in simple gray pants.
A handsome woman wearing nothing but a bright red wig pushes past us, exhaling an “excuse me.” Her bulbous tits bounce, and her tone is annoyed. We’re clearly in her way as we step to either side of the hall so she can pass.
“Do you want to make a speech, or what did you have in mind?” Franco looks at me like this was my big idea, which I guess it was, but it was his suggestion.
“I don’t think so. I just wanted to check on things.”
“Come on,” he smirks. “I’ll introduce you.”
We step into the large dressing room lined with lighted mirrors and an assortment of women in robes and feathers or nothing at all, and he taps on the wall. A few of the girls look at us with anticipation, while others groan and flop back in their chairs. Some don’t even pause in their preparations.
“Oy! Listen up, I’ve got Trip Alexander here. He’s the boss, and he just wanted to say a few words.”
At that, everyone stops what they’re doing and looks at me. Their expressions are either curious or worried, and I guess they’re thinking I’m here to say I’ve sold the club or something.
“Right, hello.” I clear my throat, and this feels like overkill. “Just wanted to say you’re all doing a great job, and if you ever need anything or if any of the customers hassle you, let Franco know. We want you to feel safe here.”
They all stare at me, and from this angle, I’m able to quickly study each face. Franco was right. None of these women have that strange allure that captures my attention and leaves me wanting more.
A skinny girl with heavy glitter on her oversized eyes steps forward and smiles, shaking my hand. Her fake tits are too large for her body, and her blonde hair is in two long ponytails tied high on each side of her head. I’m pretty sure the look she’s going for is Manga schoolgirl.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Trip. I really appreciate the environment you’ve created at the Rhino. My last club was dirty and security sucked. I was groped several times by clients, and I felt very vulnerable.”
That makes me cringe, but it also makes me feel a little better for at least providing an alternative.
I shake her hand, keeping my eyes on hers. “Excellent. That’s what we’re going for, ah…”
“I’m Shula.” When she smiles, she seems way too young to be stripping.
“Shula. That’s what we were going for.” I release her hand, stepping back into the hall. “Good luck with your show tonight.”
The other women return to their preparations, but Shula watches me leave the room like a curious kid, and it reminds me why I’ve stayed out of this business. She should be in school.
Franco is at my side as we walk towards the exit leading to the club. “That was fun.” His tone is sarcastic.
“That was your idea.” I don’t addasshole. “Did it go as you expected?”
“Pretty much.”