I take my position, leaning forward with the racquet. She serves the ball, hitting it against the pockmarked white wall just above the dark line. The ball comes back quickly and I hit it back. Back and forth, we hit the little ball in this room that smells heavily of sweat and the rubber of the ball.
We get used the rhythm of movement and sound until I hit the ball hard and high. It hits the wall with a loudpopand sails over Sasha’s head. She swings and misses it as it lands behind her.
“Dammit,” she says.
“Tough luck, kid,” I say as I walk over to the ball. As I bend to pick it up, I catch a glimpse of long, shapely legs walking past. I stand up.
Ember walks down the hallway, wiping her face with a towel. She’s wearing tight yoga pants that cling to every curve of her hips and her perfect peach of an ass. Her sports bra covers up her tits, but only just barely as they jiggle when she walks. Her long, pale gold hair is tied back and away from her sweat-covered, makeup-less face.
It’s amazing how much more attractive she is without even trying.
“Hold on a second,” I tell Sasha and open the door. “Ember!”
My voice carries like a boom against the gym walls. She starts and stops, looking over. There’s a moment of indecision, then she smiles and walks over.
“What are you doing here?” she asks me.
“Hello to you, too.”
Her face reddens a little and she says, “I just meant, I didn’t think you came to this gym.”
I smirk at her. “You think I was born with this body?”
Sasha clears her throat behind me, reminding me of her presence. I step to the side and say, “Allow me to introduce you to my daughter. Sasha. Sasha, this is Ms. Lorenzo. She’s the manager at the club.”
Sasha walks up and sticks her hand out, her eyes lifted brightly. “Hi.”
Ember shakes her hand politely. “It’s very nice to meet you.”
“You’re a manager at one of Daddy’s clubs?” she asks, a little tilt to her head. “It’s not the new one, is it? The strip club?”
Now my face is warm with embarrassment. I glance around and say, “Say it a little louder. I don’t think the front desk heard you.”
“Sorry,” she says. “It’s just I don’t think I’ve ever heard of a woman managing a strip club. No offense, but it’s not exactly the most feminist environment.”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Ember says. “The women who work there make thousands of dollars a night sometimes and work their own hours. They’re pretty much independent contractors.”
“Really? I mean…really?But they have to get naked.”
“That’s their choice. It’s not exactly what I would do for that kind of money, but everybody’s different.” She gives me a side glance. “It’s legal, at least.”
Funny. She’s a comedian now. “Hey, Sasha,” I say, “why don’t you go get us some Gatorade or something from the vending machines? Give me a second with Ms. Lorenzo.”
“Okay. Nice to meet you!” I watch as she bops off, her crimson curls bouncing with every step.
“I didn’t know you had a daughter,” Ember says once she’s out of earshot.
“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.”
She nods. “So… does that mean you also have a wife?”
“Once upon a time,” I say, doing my best not to be obvious about how good she looks. Why does this feel like banter all of a sudden? If I didn’t know better, I’d think that she was flirting right now.
“Can’t say I appreciate your playing up how great strip clubs are to my fifteen-year-old daughter,” I say in an effort to shift the focus. “If you want to start recruiting teenagers?—”
“I did no such thing,” she says, her voice lowering to an accusatory hiss. “She asked and I answered. That’s all. It’s not my job to keep her off the pole. That honor solely belongs to you.”
“Yeah, all right.” I want to be cross with her, but it’s not working. All I can think about is the next time I can get between her and those tight ass yoga pants. “So, you come here a lot?”
