So, on my last night shift, I sat down with my books and calculator to pick up where I left off last night. I knew that it could’ve been worse; I was only running another set of eyes over Tommy’s work. But still, I made a point to groan every three minutes, hoping someone would overhear me and save me.
Maybe there could’ve been a small fire in the kitchen? A costume emergency backstage?
After half an hour, I stopped for a break and put everything safely away in my back office. I didn’t use it much, as was evident by the stacks of toilet roll and cleaning supplies sitting in the corner.
I preferred to be out in the action, amongst the people, immersed in the atmosphere.
After giving up my booth, I took up a seat at the bar. It wouldn’t be long before people started to flood in. On Saturdays, our ladies burlesque nights, we put on two shows. The first show would be starting soon.
* * *
“Uhh, Mel?” Startled, I looked up from my phone like a schoolgirl caught texting in class. I was only on it for a minute, and I was replying to a work email. Not that I had any reason to explain myself, I was the boss. I could do what the hell I wanted.
I snickered to myself. I wished.
I was too busy running my club to do whatever I wanted. The fact that I’d been on my feet most of the night could only attest to that. Hell, at one point I actually snuck away into my office to do some more paperwork just to get a break. I was bitter, but I wasn’t. You can’t blame someone for coming down with food poisoning during the middle of their shift.
I sent poor Lucas straight home, before realising that I’d have to cover him behind the bar during our peaks. Our first show had just ended; I’d thought while the crowd lulled, I’d take a break. So, I’d claimed a stool at the end of the bar, with a coke and a basket of fries.
Not the healthiest. I’d at least made it a diet coke, cutting out some of those unwanted sugars - they were my kryptonite. Just a whiff of sweetness and I gained a pound.
“Fuck.” Caught up in my own little moment, I accidentally sent an email that I hadn’t finished writing out yet. Well, shit.
“What is it?” I asked Bea as I dropped my phone onto the bar - it was a lost cause; I’d deal with it later. When I looked back up to see her standing in front of me, I saw that she was not actually looking at me. I followed her line of sight across the room to where Abbie was on the floor.
She was giving a lap dance. Something that I didn’t force any of the girls to do, I knew how horrible it could be which was why I’d made it their choice. But at the end of the day, tips were tips. I didn’t understand what Bea was looking at.
“What?”
Ahh. I saw it, what had Bea capturing my attention.
AtWith the Melodywe had a zero tolerance policy for any sort of abuse or misconduct, a very strict hands to yourself policy too. Which at that minute, as I spotted the extra set of hands wrapped around Abbie’s waist, was being violated by a club patron.
I sighed audibly.
I hated this shit. No matter if the contact was invited or not, I wouldn’t stand for any crossing of the lines. This was a strip club, the girls stripped and danced, they weren’t toys to be played with. Not under my watch. If they wanted to hook up, if they wanted to pay for sex they could’ve damn well gone somewhere else.
Same went for the girls.
I didn’t judge. They could do what they wanted as long as they weren’t here and working. You take that shit elsewhere.
All the staff were aware of my strict rules about not mixing business with pleasure, and ninety-five percent of the time they abided by those rules. There had been a few instances, though, where I’d had to call a dancer into my office, or throw a patron out. Actually, that one seemed to happen more frequently than I would have liked.
I looked over for security, not remembering which face I was looking for. Flank was one of my full timers but he was usually outside. We always had two more on security that kept watch inside the club, but they were on a rotating shift pattern.
Spotting Cameron, I tried conveying with my eyes that we had a situation. As I hastily made my way onto the floor, over to Abbie, I felt confident that at the very least he would be keeping an eye on us - if not following behind me.
Abbie saw me first. She sent me a small smile before stepping away from the man. His hands didn’t drop right away; it took another step away from Abbie for her to be out of reach.
Placing one hand on the back of his chair, I leant in to speak into his ear.
“We have a zero touching policy. I’m afraid you’re being kicked out. If you come back and this happens again, you’ll be banned from ever stepping foot on the premises. Are we clear?” I smiled a wide, close lipped smirk as I backed off a fraction to look him in the eye.
“You can’t just-”
“Actually, I can,” I said before straightening to my full height and glancing over my shoulder for Cameron. “I’d suggest you leave of your own will. Getting thrown out of a strip club is somewhat of a spectacle. I’m sure you’d rather not have any witnesses of you sinking to a new level of scum.”
His eyes narrowed, eyebrows scrunching. He was angry.
