Page 5 of Charlotte
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THOMAS
I used to thrive off the energy of the crowds, but it's just not what it used to be. I've been dancing at The Velvet Rope for almost three years now, saving every dollar thrust at me to put towards my real dream of fixing up and flipping houses.
Tonight is like any other night. I’m headlining the show, so I’ve been tasked with giving special attention to the bride in the front row. Her friend knows Dominic, and he promised her a send-off that she wouldn’t forget.
I get into position behind the screen and wait for Dominic to announce me. The deafening sound of the audience makes it hard to hear the start of the music. I strain to listen for my cue, turning my head to glance over my shoulder. I can’t see much because of the position of my hat, but I can see Dominic in the left wing of the stage hold up his left hand and point to his bare ring finger.
I want to tell him to fuck off, but I can suddenly hear the music, and it's time to get to work. I spin around and start moving with the music. I've been dancing for so long that I don’t even have to think about the moves. My body just seems to move like it’s not taking instructions from my brain.
The lights are bright, so I can't see her clearly, but I clock the white veil sitting at the end of the stage. She's not on her feet the way everyone else in the crowd seems to be.
Great. No wonder Dominic tried to remind me to pick her out of the audience to pull her on stage. It's not in my nature to find the one woman in the crowd disinterested in the show. Some guys look at them as a challenge, and they aren't wrong, but I like finding the one that will enjoy her time in the spotlight and enjoy my attention. Of course, when she joins in on the show, the more the other women want it, and the more money gets tossed up on stage. But tonight, it looks like I’ll be working harder for the money.
I spin around and drop to my knees, sliding down the stage and lock eyes with the bride-to-be.
My heart stops when her wide gunmetal gray gaze meets mine. For a moment, time slows down, and my brain allows me to take in the beauty sitting in front of me. The soft curves of her body and the sweet smile she gives me has my heart starting back up and beating at double the speed to catch up to the normal rhythm.
I’m usually very detached looking at the women in the audience. They aren’t prospects like for some of the other dancers. They are the job, a means to an end. This lifestyle isn't something I want for the rest of my life. I have bigger dreams, higher aspirations than this place.
Despite my body reacting to the woman in front of me, I'm quick to shut off anything I'm feeling. Not only is she off-limits in my mind because I don't mix business with pleasure, but she's engaged. She's here because she is celebrating her last hurray before she gets married.
I hop off the stage and start grinding my hips in front of her, doing what I can to distract the audience from one of the stage crew guys as they put out a chair on the runway part of the stage.
I glance back at the stage and see that the chair is in place. It’s all good to go. I turn back to the bride and pull her up to her feet. Her friends are laughing and cheering her on as I lift her onto the stage and jump up myself.
She says something and shakes her head, but the music is too loud, and I can’t hear what she is saying. I walk her over to the chair and gently push her down into it. My thumb glides over the fingers on her left hand, and I notice that there isn't a diamond ring or any ring for that matter. I give her a quizzical look, and she tries once again to say something to me, but I can’t hear her. She points to her table, but I don’t try and decipher her charades.
I start getting into the routine, dancing around her and grinding my hips. I can see the moment she stops resisting in her head and starts enjoying the show. The corner of her mouth twists up into a smile as I lift my leg and put it over her shoulder, and thrust my hips towards the crowd. I pull off my tank top and raise her hands, and put them on my chest. She slowly slides her fingertips down my pecs and over my washboard abs.
I grind into her one more time before I take her hand and stand her up. I walk her over to the steps at the side of the runway part of the stage. I finish up my set on my own, dancing and letting others from the audience get close to me. I'm happy when the lights dim, and the music ends.
I make my way backstage and pass Zeus as he heads for the stage. I can’t help but think about the bride again. It’s not like I’d ever act on it, but I play over the moment of feeling her body close to mine as I moved. It's taken a lot of time and concentration to control my body reacting to a woman on stage, but right now, backstage, it's different.
I don't have time to think too long about her gray eyes and the way they looked up at me through those long lashes. I finish out the night doing my part to help set up the other guys' routines and the final group routine at the end. Before the lights dim for the last time, I take a mental snapshot of the bride for my memory.
