Oh, I knew how it was. At the firm, there was never a time when I didn’t have guys to go out with. Toby, especially, was always up for drinks and finding some woman to get off with. Plenty of times I’d spend the end of the evening with one or both of us getting blown in the back of the limo, so drunk or high, I could barely remember the sex.
After I’d gotten fired and stripped of my apartment, I’d called Toby to commiserate, maybe to have a few drinks and get laid. The usual. Not only did that traitorous bastard refuse my phone calls, he’d blocked me on his phone and all social media. The Tobys of this world would always slide by. They might have limited brainpower, but their unlimited money would always provide a smooth path.
And me? I might’ve lost my money, but like a cat, I’d land on my feet and survive. Hell, I planned tothrive.
“Yeah, sure. And I’m sure you do great with the tips. City boys love a cowboy, I’ll bet.”
His cheeks reddened, and he squashed the wax-paper wrapping from his sandwich while mumbling, “I do okay.”
Five hours laterI observed Cort in his assless chaps, giving a party of forty-year-old women the show of their lives. Three other men also danced—a tall man in a cape, some young kid who worked the older crowd, and a lithe, muscled black guy who’d stripped down to just a pair of glittering shorts and a silk tie around his neck—but Cort took the spotlight. He owned the crowd. When the music started and the lights flashed, he came out, cowboy hat in hand, yelling to the crowd.
“Who’s here to have some fun?”
His bulging muscles gleamed as he swung his lasso over his head, then caught a giggling woman wearing a tiara and a sash with the word “Bride” written in script across her chest.
“Hey, beautiful. How’re you doin’ tonight?”
She placed her hands on his hips, then ran them up and down his thighs. I had to wonder if he enjoyed being touched by so many random people. What really drove him to do this?
“Harlan, you gonna sit and stare at him all night or do your job? I need the empties brought to the back and fresh glasses to replace the used ones.” José smirked at me when I dragged my gaze from Cort, who was now dancing in between the woman’s outstretched legs to the claps of her girlfriends. Dollar bills were tossed at him, but I noticed several of her friends used the opportunity to touch him by tucking their money into his belt and fondling him.
“Uh, what? Yeah, sure.” I collected the used beer bottles from the bar area and stacked the glasses. At the end of the bar I spied a three-quarter-full bottle of Corona and discreetly placed it on my tray. “I’ll bring the clean ones in a sec.” I hurried to the back, and José returned to serving the customers lining the bar two deep.
Once I pushed through the swinging doors, I set the tray down on the counter, and before I had a chance to think about what I was doing, I took the bottle of Corona and downed it. Nothing had ever tasted as good as that lukewarm beer sliding down my throat. When I’d drunk it all, I set it down and wiped my lips with the back of my hand. My breath came in short, hard pants, and I braced my hands on the counter, the self-disgust choking me. What had I done? In my frantic need to have a drink—anydrink—I hadn’t even taken the time to wipe off the top of the bottle.
To think I’d had dinner with the governor, met the heads of Fortune 500 companies, and dated women whose names graced some of the finest hotels in the world. Yet now here I stood, in the back kitchen of a gay strip club, homeless, wearing someone else’s clothing and drinking the leftover beer of a stranger.
How far the mighty have fallen.
None of that stopped me from checking out each and every leftover bottle, and if at least half remained, I finished those as well, each time remembering to wipe the tops. By the time I returned to the club floor with the tray of clean glasses, I had a nice little buzz going on.
“Here you go. What do you need me to do now?” I gave José a bright smile while my insides rolled at what I’d done in the back. That familiar warmth stole over me like a drug, and I forced myself to stand tall and straight.
Giving me a once-over, José handed me a tray with a bottle of Bombay Sapphire, four glasses, and an ice bucket. “Andy, the waiter for that bridal group, is busy with another table. Take this over to them and clean up the empties. We gotta keep it flowing. They’re spending money like water.”
“Gotcha.”
I clutched the tray, making sure I wouldn’t drop it. By now the beer had settled, and I felt loose and happy. As I approached the group, I noticed Cort had moved on from the bride, now sprawled against the velvet cushions, to one of her friends, who sat on Cort’s lap and rode his thigh with an expression that could only be described as rapturous. His hands were around her waist, and he nuzzled at her neck.
“Good evening, ladies. I’m here to bring you fresh drinks and take away your old ones.” I set the tray down to clean the table.
The bride’s eyes opened, and she gave me a drunken smile. “Oh, hey, you’re a cute one. Wanna give me a dance too?”
“Uh, I don’t think you’d like it as much as Cort’s.”
Loopy from all the beers and nerves, I grinned at Cort, who’d stopped his snuggling. The women shrieked.
“Oh, you like each other. Kiss him. Kiss him.”
I shook my head. “I’m here to give you drinks. That’s all.”
“Nooo.” The bride struggled to an upright position. “I’ll give you fifty bucks to dance with him. Mandy, get off his lap.” Her friend complied, and she pointed to Cort. “Whaddya say, cowboy?” Her friends clapped and chanted, “Dance, dance.”
Stunned, I gaped at her before finding Cort’s amused gaze on me. He gave me a tiny nod of acceptance and stood, waiting.
“Um, okay. But I don’t know what to do.”
Cort took my arms and pulled me to him, rocking his pelvis into mine. His lips tickled my ear as he whispered, “Follow my lead. You don’t gotta do nothing except move your hips.”
