Page 17 of Fang
Like clockwork, she walks through the doors at seven thirty. I watch as she heads down the hall toward the locker room. I follow behind her.
“Cami, can I have a word with you?” I ask her.
The other girls sneer her way as she nods, stepping into the hall. I lead the way to my office, closing the door behind her before going to take a seat on the edge of the desk.
“How are you feeling?” I ask.
Any vulnerability she showed yesterday is gone. Back is the hardass that walked in, auditioned, then made demands. The feisty girl I wanted to reward for knowing what she wanted and sticking to it.
“If you are going to fire me for having emotions, then do it. I’ll find another club to dance at.”
Her words are tough, but there is some worry in her eyes. She knows as well as I do that all of the other clubs in town are the kind that offer a full-service menu. I doubt they will be allowing her to refrain from any extras.
“Did I say I was going to fire you? Why is everything always a fight with you?” I cross my arms over my chest.
“Why else would you pull me aside to ask me how I am? I know how it works.”
I shake my head. “I would be an idiot to fire you. You bring us in the most money of any of the girls as I told you yesterday. You don’t do drugs. You follow the rules. You are the perfect employee.”
I can see the relief fill her as her shoulders relax.
“I’m fine. I don’t want special treatment. Forget it ever happened.”
I consider her words, but I know the truth. “I can’t. I don’t like that anyone under my protection felt scared for their lives.You work for me and therefore have the weight of the Lotus MC behind you.”
“That’s nice to know, but I’m not exactly going to be screaming that from the rooftops. No offense to you or the Lotus. I appreciate you letting me work here, but I’d rather the whole world not know I’m a stripper.”
I lean back a little further. “Why are you a stripper? You are a pretty girl. You could get a job elsewhere. You don’t seem to enjoy the work, so why?”
“That’s not really any of your business.”
She’s right, of course. Doesn’t stop me from being curious. I assume she does it to pay for school, but I can’t help but wonder if there’s something else to it.
“You’re right, but keeping you safe when you are within these four walls is my business. You will have a guard escorting you to and from the stage from now on. If anything breaks out, they will be tasked with getting you out of harm’s way as quickly as possible.”
“No. I don’t need that,” she argues.
“You might not think so, but it doesn’t matter. When you enter this building, you become mine. Happy will be by your side for the time being. If for some reason he has other business he has to do, he will assign someone to you.”
Little does she know, she is mine outside this building too. I don’t know how, but the woman has crawled her way under my skin.
“Why are you doing this? The girls already hate me. This is going to paint a bigger target on my back. I don’t want special treatment,” she protests.
“Maybe if those other girls worked half as hard to develop their routines and show up on stage, then they would become our big earner. The reason you are so captivating on stage is because you lose yourself to the music and you let your bodymove with the music as if from memory. You aren’t trying to act overly sexy or pull the men in with some fake smile. You are authentic,” I tell her.
“Sounds like you pay close attention to me. You have a little crush?” She snorts.
Her words hit, though. I do pay attention to her. Way more than I should. Something about her calls to me. I meant what I said. When she dances, I get lost with her in whatever world she has disappeared to.
I won’t admit it to her, though. Not right now when she is looking at me with fear in her eyes.
“I pay attention to all my dancers. How do you think I decide who goes on when? Why do you think you get prime-time spots? The men like to watch you more than the others. That means if someone were to, say, knock you over like yesterday and you were to break a leg, we would lose out on a lot of money. That would be bad for the club. So you will accept your guard without complaint. You will let him do his job while you get your ass on that stage and do yours.” I get a little heated at the end, hating that she is fighting me.
“With a smile on my face, right?” she snarks.
“If that’s what it fucking takes, then yes. With a smile on your goddamn face.”
She grimaces. “I won’t fake a smile for them.”
