Page 3 of The Smoke Hour

“Hello. Welcome to The Smoke Hour. Would you like to purchase a membership as a gift for someone?”

The Smoke Hour was a gentlemen’s only club, and the only way that a woman could access the lounge was if she worked here.

“Actually, yes. I would. We’re thinking about purchasing a membership for our brother,” I explained, waving my finger back and forth between Tamara and me. Christina hadn’t caught up yet. “A friend of my brother’s suggested this as the perfect birthday gift for his thirty-fifth birthday. I was hoping that we might be able to get a tour to decide if we wanted to spend that much on his gift.”

“Ahh.” The woman looked between the two of us as Christina stepped inside. “We don’t allow women access to the club unless she’s looking for work, so I wouldn’t be able to give you a tour for your brother’s potential membership. We would give him a tour, though.”

“But it’s supposed to be a surprise,” Tamara stated.

“I’m sorry. I can’t do that.”

“Excuse me, ladies. I know you were here first, but my Uber gave me ten minutes to make this stop before he leaves. I don’t have another way home except for him, so do you mind?” Christina asked as she stepped up beside Tamara and me.

I had no idea what she was up to, but I knew that despite being a goody two shoes, she was a hell of an actress.

“No problem, boo. Do you.” I shrugged and took a step back.

“Hi, my name is Christina Jamison, and one of your dancers told me that you were hiring. I’m desperately in need of a new job, so I wanted to see if I could speak with a member of management,” she lied.

The receptionist frowned and asked, “Which dancer was it?”

“Oh, I’m not sure. I met her over at Salon Estime over on Ward, and she was talking about the club while she was being serviced. I was in the chair two seats away from hers, and I just happened to overhear her conversation with her stylist.”

“Oh, that must have been Estelle,” she replied and shook her head. “I don’t think that we’re hiring, though.”

“Well, could you please check?”

Christina leaned closer and stated, “I’m embarrassed to say this, but I was laid off from my job, and my husband left me. I’m trying to do everything that I can to keep a roof over mine and my son’s head.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but we just—”

“Please. We have three more nights in our hotel room, and then we’ll be out on the streets. I don’t even know how I’ll feed him dinner tonight. Please, just inquire?”

The receptionist’s face crumpled with compassion when Christina started crying. “Oh, no. Let me check. Give me a couple of minutes. You can have a seat right there. Ladies, I’m sorry about your request. There’s nothing that I can do to help you.”

“Come on, Tam,” I stated and headed for the doorway.

Christina took a seat in a chocolate brown and black marbled leather chair. The masculine and moody décor screamed of money while being subdued and comfortable at the same time. From the wood-paneled walls to the heavy leather furnishing, every inch of this place had been crafted with the idea of catering to a man. The club sported luxurious finishes, including the shelving behind the receptionist, which held crystal decanters and antique trinkets.

Large marble statues of erotic women stood sentinel beside the doors on either side of the desk. The receptionist, whose name tag read Pharris, took the door to our left.

“Let’s go,” Christina stated as soon as the door closed behind Pharris. We ran to the opposite door.

Tamara and I quickly slipped through the other doorway with Christina on our heels. We followed the voices and music.

No sooner than we stepped out of the hallway did we walk into a large main room where there were several large clubchairs, small smoky glass tables, and a bar along one wall. There was another room at the rear of this one and another hallway to the left of the main room. I suspected there were private rooms back there.

October London’s “Back To Your Place” was playing loud enough to hear the lyrics but not so loud that the occupants couldn’t hear themselves speak.

We quickly moved beyond that room where men sat around tables, drinking and smoking cigars, with women draped on them. The next room was darker than the first and was decorated in blues, blacks, and grays.

Several large leather club chairs were throughout the room, and most of them were occupied. Small glass side tables sat between every two chairs, and the men had their drinks and food on trays on the table.

Some men had girls giving them lap dances, while others were focused on the naked women on stage. We headed to the back of the room and took a seat.

“You think we’ll get kicked out?” Christina asked.

“Shit. It’s too late to think about that now. Your ass concocted an elaborate plan to get us in here,” I whispered.

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