“Hello?”
“Is this Ava?” a male voice asked.
“Yes,” I said.
“This is Yak. Did you seriously post your dance on social media?”
I took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, I didn’t think—”
“Don’t be sorry. If these assholes are serious, we’re gonna be at capacity tonight. If you can, get here earlier. I don’t want some jackass to maul you on your way inside.”
“Yes, sir.”
I made my way to Cat’s room. “Hey, I forgot to mention, I need to take the Buick tonight.”
My sister arched her brow at me. “You mean Rita doesn’t want to advertise to men at a crowded gentleman’s club?”
I shrugged a shoulder. “I haven’t told her about this gig yet, but one of her cars in the lot sends a message. I felt bad enough parking in the back during the week.”
“When are you leaving?”
“Pretty soon. A manager called and asked me to get there early because I posted a video to social media and it went a little viral.”
She gave me a pointed look. “There’s no such thing as a ‘little viral,’ Savannah. Are you using your real name?”
“No. I set up a new profile for my stage name, ‘Ava.’”
She swiveled her chair closer to me. “Seriously? That’s part of your real name. You should have gone with something like a jewel or a spice to keep your anonymity.”
I chuckled. “Maybe, but do you know how hard it is to respond to a new name?”
She nodded. “You’ll bring the Buick back with a full tank?”
My head tilted. “What are you? A rental car company?”
She shrugged. “That works. You’ll owe me a hundred and twenty-five for the night.”
“When did you get so greedy?”
She grinned. “When you went viral. Be happy I’m not telling you to get an Uber.”
My eyes shot to the ceiling for a beat. “Be good.”
She laughed. “Pretty sure that goes double for you, sis.”
Platinum’s was about fifteen minutes from Mom’s house. Midway through the drive, I turned on the radio, but Catalina had it set to Pandora. More specifically, one of Mom’s playlists on Pandora, since “Glamorous” by Fergie filled the Buick.
That not only surprised me, but it also made me a strange blend of happy and sad. Happy because the pop tune was catchy - and who didn’t want to fly first class? But it was sad because of how much it reminded me of Mom. When the song was popular, Mom was convinced that one day she’d retire and buy a first-class ticket… to where, she never said. I quickly switched over to the radio before I started crying. Then I made a mental noteto ask Catalina why she was listening to Mom’s songs in the car. It might have been a slip, but all three of us Smythe girls communicated through music.
I pulled into the parking lot for Platinum’s an hour before my shift. There was one open space in the area designated for dancers behind the building. I parked the Buick there, and texted Yak. A few minutes later, the back door to the club opened and a stout man in an MC cut wandered to my door. He wasn’t someone I’d seen during my three afternoons last week, though he might have been in the DJ booth for the audition. I grabbed my makeup, wallet, and phone, then hurried out of the vehicle.
An overhead light in the parking lot flickered on and I noted the name patch on his cut read, ‘Prime.’
“Ava, you got a dozen men in there already.”
“What?” I asked, eyes wide.
“Why are you surprised? Probably followed you here from your last gig.”
