“I doubt you want to go on a job interview with liquor on your breath.”
“Let me tell you something.” The flat tone of his voice sent tingles down my spine. “Some days I’ve spent more sober than others, but by the end, I was too far gone to care. There wasn’t a single time I showed up at the office without having had at least two drinks under me.” His hands shook slightly as he set the cup on the coffee table.
There was no way for me to respond, so I downed the rest of my coffee. “Finish up, and we’ll go get you a haircut.”
Walking to ManUp with Harlan at my side was a bit surreal. The haircut completely changed his appearance, and I couldn’t stop sneaking glances at his profile. I think he felt it too, as the confidence rolled off him in waves and he walked with his head high. It surely didn’t hurt that even in his borrowed clothes, he might have been the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. He’d shaved, and that, along with the shorter haircut, exposed his high cheekbones, strong chin, and straight nose. His blue eyes gleamed.
Harlan stopped a bit down the block from Man Up and pulled me off to the side. “Before we go inside, tell me a bit about James. What’s his last name? How long has he owned this club?”
I thought hard for a minute. “I don’t remember his last name. I know it’s different from his half brother, Rhoades, but I don’t look at the signature on my check. I’m only interested in the amount.”
Harlan’s smile flashed white in the sunlight. “Good point.”
“I been there a bit over a year. Frankie was there the longest before he left to work for James as some kinda marketing person. James is…” Here I had to stop and scratch my head. “I don’t know how to explain him.…He’s a little mysterious, he always backs us up if anyone gives us a hard time, and he’s in his thirties but seems much older. I think he’s had a rough life.”
Harlan laughed again and nudged my shoulder. “That’s because you have a soft heart. You think everyone’s had it rough.”
“Most people ain’t got perfect lives. They hide if they’ve been hurt.”
He sobered and gave me an odd look. “Are you? Hiding, I mean. Have you been hurt?”
“I ain’t here to talk about me.” Two could play this game. If he didn’t want to talk about his past, I didn’t need to either. “Let’s go. Don’t want to keep James waiting and look bad. You ain’t got the job yet.”
Hushed and quiet, the club was a totally different place in the afternoon than when we danced at night. I rarely came earlier than the time it took to put on my costume, unless one of the guys wanted to practice a new routine. Most of my dancing had been with Austin or Frankie. Tristan gave me a strange vibe, and Morgan was full into his role as Daddy’s Little Boy. I’d gone the solo route, playing up my cowboy and lasso routine, and the men loved it, especially when I roped them in. Still, James had told us he was auditioning new dancers, and I wondered if he’d hired anyone.
José straightened up from behind the bar and gave me a wave. I returned it and pointed him out to Harlan. “That’s José, the bartender. If you get the job, you’ll be working for him. He’s a good guy. We give him our tip money to hold during the night.”
Nodding at my words, Harlan said nothing, but I could feel his tension. No matter what he’d done before I met him, it couldn’t be easy to have to rely on strangers for the bare minimum: food, clothing, shelter.
I squeezed his arm. “It’ll be good. Just don’t bullshit James. He can see right through people. It’s scary sometimes.”
Harlan gave me a tense nod as we walked to the back of the club and James’s office. I worried that if Harlan didn’t get this, he’d disappear and I’d never see him again. I couldn’t risk that. We’d only known each other a short while, but I didn’t want to give up the beginning of a possible friendship. Much as I loved Austin and Frankie, they were busy with their boyfriends and their new jobs and hardly had time for me. Harlan would be the first person I’d made friends with outside the club, on my own.
We stopped in front of the door marked with a brass plaque that had the word Office engraved in script, and I knocked.
“One moment.”
I heard footsteps and the sound of the door being unlocked, and I wondered why the hell James needed to lock his door. Another thing to add to the list of “Things I Don’t Understand About James.”
“Hello,” he said, perfectly normal, as if it was an everyday thing for me to come to his office and bring a homeless man for an interview.
“Hi. I brought Harlan.”
“As I see by the fact that there’s a man standing behind you. Why don’t you both come inside?” He swung the door wide open, and Harlan, without speaking, followed me and sat in one of the two chairs in front of James’s desk. A huge oil painting of a man hung on the wall, and it captured my attention, mainly because the man looked like James, except for the eyes. It was James’s father; it had to be.
I’d always heard you could take the measure of a person by their eyes, and the artist had captured a cruelty and hardness I’d never seen in James, nor in his brother, Rhoades. But I’d seen that look before. Known it quite well.
“So.” James spoke directly to Harlan, without waiting for me to make an introduction. “Cort has advocated on your behalf far more than I would for any stranger. That makes me leery for him, and yet curious, as I know he’s a good judge of character. Tell me a little about yourself.”
Giving me a quick glance, then stiffening his posture to sit straight in his chair, Harlan answered, “I appreciate you taking the time to meet with me about a job here. I’ve been out of work for over a year and homeless for about eight months. So far I’ve managed to live in and out of shelters.”
“I already know you’re homeless. Cort told me. I want to know why. What happened? Were you arrested and in jail? Did you murder someone? Steal? Are you married? Did you hit your wife?” He paused. “Your husband? These are things I need to know if you’re going to work here.”
As James spoke, I saw Harlan’s jaw tighten, and I prayed he wouldn’t get high-handed and blow his chances. People didn’t get a second shot with James. He was a one-and-done man. Maybe I should’ve emphasized that more to Harlan.
“You know under New York State law, you can’t ask me if I’ve been arrested. It’s illegal.”
Amusement lit James’s normally cool expression. “Is that so? Do you plan to sue me now?” He laced his fingers together and propped his chin on top of his hands. “My business is like a small family. I won’t bring someone in if I believe they are going to hurt anyone.” James’s gaze shifted to me. “Cort. Will you excuse us? I’d like to talk to Harlan alone now.”
