“Issatso?” He crossed powerful forearms, and more tattoos became visible. “I seen rich, pretty boys like you before. Thinkin’ you can hang with the homeboys but ready to run back uptown if things get rough.”
I said nothing. Mostly because it was true. People like José hadn’t existed in my rarified atmosphere unless it was to make my life easier. They didforme, whether it was to drive my car, clean my house, or serve my food.
“But now you’re at our level. Whether we want you or not. I ain’t gonna make it easy for you. You’re gonna have to work hard.”
“You know, your boss is a lot like me.”
José seemed taken aback for a moment, but then laughed in my face. “Like you? James? You think you’re like him? James ain’t likenobodyelse. Now, you do your job and we’ll get along just fine. Get started on the glasses, why don’tcha? Cort won’t be back for about twenty minutes.” He turned his back on me and began to stack the bottles of vodka, gin, and scotch.
My mouth watered at the sight of all the liquor. I was certain it wouldn’t be easy to sneak a drink with José watching every move I made, but even now I was almost shaky and light-headed. I’d have to find a way to get a nice little buzz on while working.
“I’m on it.”
We worked in relative silence the entire time, my senses tingling, hyperaware as he stared at my every move. I knew he wanted me to fuck up. He was probably waiting for me to, so he could run and tell James. Get me fired.
Well, fuck you, buddy. Keep your friends close and your enemies closer.I planned to kill the man with so much kindness, he wouldn’t know what hit him.
“Is this good?” I held up a sparkling glass. “I want to make sure it’s exactly what you want.”
José wasn’t anyone’s fool, and from his narrowed eyes, I knew he sensed something was up. But I kept that sunny, shit-eating grin on my face. He put the glass up to the light.
“Yeah.”
That was it, and then he went back to the liquor. If Man Up was anything like the strip clubs I used to go to, the men who came here didn’t give a damn if their glasses were clean as long as they were filled with liquor, and they were getting those lap dances.
I’d never been to a gay strip club and wondered if the premise was the same. I continued to polish the glasses, wondering about Cort and how he started in this field, considering how much he loved the bookstore. Man should’ve been a librarian or something related. From our discussions, he certainly was better read than I’d given him credit for, and I’d enjoyed our conversations about Shakespeare and Jane Austen. I knew Cort had the soul of a romantic.
“Who’s hungry? I got our food.”
Cort breezed back into the room, bringing an energy that made me smile at the sight of him before I realized it.
“I am.”
“Makin’ up for lost time. I got you extra turkey.”
Those words, spoken low enough so only I could hear them, hit me like a punch to the face.
“You’re being so nice to me—almost too nice, considering you don’t know me. If you did, you’d probably walk away.”
“I dunno,” he said, unwrapping the sandwich in front of him while mine remained untouched. “At first you were just another homeless guy I felt sorry for. Then, after we talked”—he bit into his sandwich, chewed, swallowed—“you reminded me of me.”
“How so?” Cort knew little of my story other than what I told him: my parents kicked me out and I lost my job. Everything else was too sordid and now, frankly embarrassing.
“’Cause we’re both in a kind of limbo. Isolated from our friends and family. Doin’ things we don’t wanna but we got no choice. And”—he caught my eye as I began to unwrap my sandwich—“people thinkin’ things about us when it ain’t true. Makin’ assumptions.” He took another bite of his sandwich.
Certainly there was more to this cowboy than I’d originally thought. I mulled Cort’s words over as I ate, a bit disconcerted at how he’d pierced that shield I thought I’d erected around me. I’d need to be more careful now that we’d be working at the same place. At least until I made enough to move on.
“Tell me how you got into doing…this.” I gestured toward the stage. “I never knew there were men’s strip clubs catering to men. You give dances to men? Lap dances?”
Looking a bit embarrassed, Cort nodded. “Yeah. I didn’t really plan on doin’ this, of course. But when I came to New York, I wanted to meet other gay men. I didn’t know where to go or what to do, and I was walkin’ down the street one night and passed by. When I went inside, the dancers were so free. Bein’ themselves. I ain’t never seen nothin’ like it. I stayed to watch and thought,I could do that.”
“And James gave you a job, like that?” I snapped my fingers. It seemed out of the ordinary from the little I knew of the man.
“Well, not so quick, but he liked my being a cowboy. Thought it added flair to the club. He had me audition for a week or so and see how I got along with the guys.”
“They’re okay to work with?” I pictured each dancer cutthroat to get as much in tips as possible.
“They’re the best. I couldn’t imagine not having Austin and Frankie in my life. You know how it is. Guys you get so close with, they’re more like brothers than friends.”
