Page 4 of Christmas Rings

Maddie went to the doorway and turned off the overhead light. “Door open or closed?” she asked.

“Open,” Hailey and Alissa said at the same time.

“Open it is then,” Maddie said. With one last smile, she disappeared from the doorway.

Alissa heard her footsteps down the hall, and then a murmuring of voices as she stopped in Jo’s room. She lay on her back looking up at the ceiling. At home, her mother had placed glowing stars on the ceiling. Here, there was nothing but black. After a few minutes, the sound of Hailey crying startled her from her thoughts.

“Hailey,” she whispered. “Are you all right?”

“No,” Hailey said in a shaky voice. “I’m scared.”

“It’s all right,” Alissa said. “I’m here.”

“Would you sleep next to me?” she asked. “Just for a few minutes.”

“Sure.” Alissa scooted out of the covers and crossed the few feet to the other bed. They were both small enough to fit nicely in the bed, lying on their backs and holding hands.

“Sometimes when I can’t sleep, I tell myself stories,” Hailey said. “I have one about a dachshund puppy. Would you like to hear it?”

“Sure. I love dogs,” Alissa said. A feeling she’d never had before washed over her. She wanted to protect her little friend, her new sister, from harm and further pain. Not that she had any idea how. Maybe listening to her story was a good start.

“Once upon a time, there was a dog named Zeke,” Hailey said.

Her new sister only got out two more sentences before she drifted off to sleep. Alissa slipped back to her own bed andcurled on her side. The house creaked. Maddie’s footsteps, as she prepared for Christmas downstairs, soothed Alissa. She heard Mommy’s voice in her head.Everything will be all right, my darling. One day at a time.

Eventually, she fell asleep and dreamed of angels singing “Silent Night.”

Chapter 1

Alissa yawned as she slipped out of her jeans and sweater and into her skimpy cocktail waitress uniform of booty shorts and a bikini top. Friday nights tried her willpower and resolve. After a long week of teaching kindergarten, coming to the gentlemen’s club to place drinks in front of men who should have been home with their wives or families was not exactly her dream life. However, sometimes even a nice girl had to do what she had to do. Even if it meant keeping aspects of her life a secret from her mother and sisters. This made her cringe when she thought about the perpetual lie. They were not a family of secrets. Maddie had always told them they could tell her whatever was on their mind, even if it wasn’t pretty.

But this? This job she wouldn’t understand. Alissa wouldn’t have done it had she not been desperate. After graduation, she took a hard look at her student loans and wondered how she would ever pay them off with only her kindergarten teacher salary. Maddie would insist that she help Alissa financially. With everything in her being, Alissa didn’t want that to happen. Maddie Kirby had already sacrificed enough. Using her savings was not the answer to Alissa’s debt. She would take care of this herself. One way or the other.

She’d swallowed her pride and accepted the job, burying her shame about lying to her family. For a year, she slogged through shifts, narrowly escaped gropes, and put every tip she made into the bank.

Having accomplished her goals, she’d been down to her last month of waitressing. College loans were paid. She’d even managed to buy a few pieces of furniture for her tiny apartment. There was even a little extra in the bank for the unexpected. But then, her best friend Sophie had been in a car accident. She’d almost been killed. Multiple fractures to her legs, broken ribs and a concussion made it impossible for her to work.

When Alissa got the call about Sophie, her heart stopped. Memories of her parents’ deaths and the toll they had taken on her life rushed over her. Only when the nurse assured her that Sophie would live could she breathe. However, Sophie wouldn’t be able to return to her office assistant job for months. An hourly employee without adequate insurance and no income, she would accumulate debt faster than she could heal. Alissa couldn’t let that happen. They’d been best friends since they were little kids. Even after Alissa had had to change schools, the girls had remained close. Sophie had been the only person from her old life that she hadn’t lost. She would do anything for her, including staying on at the club for a few more months.

The gentlemen’s club was on the higher end, if that was possible for such a place. It was clean. A bright red and blue rug gave the room a cheery feel despite the dim lights. The stage was simple and elevated from the patrons’ tables to make it less likely for a lusty grab. Their dancers didn’t strip down all the way, just to their bras and panties. Okay, yes, the bras were basically see-through, but it was the principle of the thing. That’s what she told herself anyway. Also, there wasabsolutely no touching allowed. Even lap dances. Alissa never could figure out how they managed to keep their distance, dancing so close without actually touching. No matter what anyone said, there were skills involved in the profession. That’s why she was only a waitress. She couldn’t dance to save her life.

The patrons were nicely dressed, usually rich businessmen entertaining clients. Alissa would rather have had a nice steak if it were her being wined and dined. But who was she to judge? They tipped well, not just the dancers but Alissa too. Rarely, a table would get out of hand. When that happened, Rif, the owner, kicked them out as soon as he caught even a hint of trouble. He took care of his girls, he always said. The girls, in turn for his loyalty and fairness, were loyal right back.

Alissa had been surprised to learn more about the girls as time went on. They were not what she’d expected. There were a few law school and graduate students, single mothers without child support, even a medical student. They could make more money dancing than they could ever hope to make elsewhere. Alissa came to admire them, these women who put their real lives aside every night to entertain men because they had to.

Alissa simply delivered cocktails. No dancing for her, she’d told Rif up front. He’d told her the opportunity was available if she ever changed her mind. “You could make ten times what you’re making slinging drinks and you sure have the body for it.”

“No, thank you, sir,” she’d said. It was bad enough that she had to wear scarcely more than a bikini. There was no way she was prancing around a pole or giving men lap dances.

This particular Friday night was busy. She scampered from table to table, delivering drinks and taking orders. Music blasted through the speakers as the girls came out, oneby one, to perform. They each had a persona that matched the song. Millie, for example, the medical student, danced to a country song while dressed in a tight “farmer’s daughter” outfit, including a straw hat and two blond braids.

The song was nearing the end when Alissa stopped at a table of four men in suits. They’d just arrived and were in the process of taking off their jackets and loosening ties when she asked what she could get them. She guessed two of them to be in their early thirties. Both wore wedding rings and were attractive in that generic, closely cropped, business guy type of way. The third, who seemed a few years younger than the others, had dark, floppy hair and intelligent, sensitive eyes the color of unwashed denim. She felt certain she’d seen him before but couldn’t place where. The fourth man was closer to sixty, given his mostly gray hair and creases on his forehead and around his eyes. He winked at her when she turned toward him. She blatantly ignored the flirtatious overture and asked him, flatly, what he wanted.

“We’d like martinis,” Denim Eyes said. “Made from Marsh Vodka, please.”

Her eyebrows lifted before she could stop them. That was the highest-end vodka they sold, made by the boutique Marsh distillery. Rif said they made the finest liquors in the world. Alissa wouldn’t know. She occasionally had a glass of wine after her shift, but liquor made her gag.

“Only the best for this table,” the old man said. “Since Marsh here has the tab.” He pointed at Denim Eyes.

---