Page 10 of Truth Be Told
“I did, actually. She left me a message this morning saying how she reported it to the police. Apparently the cops said they’ll be around tonight to keep an eye out for them.”
“Jesus, Stell. Does that make you feel any better? If I were you, I probably wouldn’t have come back at all.”
I don’t tell her what wouldreallymake me feel better – to see the man who rescued me again tonight, and every night thereafter. I know he’d repeat what he did if I was ever unlucky enough to need rescuing again. I saw that goodness in him.
Before I can answer, she says, “What’s that?” She peers around me, squinting at the man’s coat hanging in my locker.
I step in front of it, trying to block her view. “It’s nothing.”
“Is that– is that the coat? The one that belongs to the guy who helped you?” She moves past me, reaching for it. I try to stop her but she slips past me.
She’s going to make this all dramatic, I already know. “Yeah, it is. I want to get it back to him, that’s all. I figure it’s the least I can do.”
“But you have no idea who he is? He didn’t tell you his name, and he just disappeared into the night?”
I nod.
“Stella, come on. This is great.” She stuffs the fabric up under her chin, relishing in the secrecy. “This is amystery.” Her attention diverts from me, and she takes a sniff of the material that’s already close to her nose. “Whoever he was, he was sexy. He smells sexy.”
I grab it from her. “What the hell? Stop being creepy.” I shake it out, not wanting it to wrinkle. “And it’s not a mystery. There’s nothing mysterious about it. I just have to give it back to him, that’s all.”
“You’re no fun.”
I laugh. “Whatever.” Then I pause. “But he did smell pretty good.”
She jabs me with her elbow. “See?”
“How the hell can you say someone smells sexy, though? What does that even mean?”
She starts undressing, first kicking off her shoes and then pulling her arms out of her sleeves. “Oh, come on. There’s definitely such a thing as a sexy man smell.”
“Like, cologne?”
She shakes her head. “Nope. A natural smell. Clean, soapy, manly musk. That kind of thing.”
Of course, I know she’s right. And he had it. I wait until her back is turned before taking one quick hit of smell off the coat myself.
She’s right. It smells like sexy man.Okay, Stella. This is ridiculous. You don’t even know the guy. Stop smelling stranger’s coats.
Embarrassed, I quickly hang it back up and close the locker door. I glance over my shoulder. Lorelei didn’t see me.
During my night of dancing, the mystery man barely crosses my mind. I don’t scan the crowd for his face or wait for him to walk through the door. When I focus on my work, I usually don’t have a problem keeping my mind still. It’s another trait we had instilled on us at the academy. And right now, I’m focusing on moving my body.
I won’t deny that I want him to show up. I want to be able to speak to him this time, to say thank you and actually exchange a few words. To maybe pick up on a little more of his energy and get another look at his sexy features hidden under that all that manly hair.
At three a.m., my shift is almost over, and he still hasn’t showed. Not that I expected him to, but I had my hopes. We close at four, so I have forty-five more minutes to fill before my night is done and I can get out of here.
I use the music as distraction. The bass beats through me, but as it did last night, and the familiar sensation helps me to move. The club is usually thinning out at this hour, but I still have a handful of incredibly interested men in front of me, watching my every move through their wads of cash and almost-empty beers.
Finally, the clock strikes quarter to four. This is when we stop dancing so the other employees can get everyone out and get the place ready to close up.
“Aw, come on,” a few of them call as I step down from my stage.
“Sorry,” I flirt as I wave my fingers. It’s always good to flirt because you want them to come back; repeat customers are your greatest asset. Lorelei had it right the night of the fire alarm. The more often they come back to see you, the more they think you’re interested in them, the more cash they’ll dish out.
As I head to the locker room to change, I take one last parting look at the front door. All that’s behind the tall pane of glass is the still, dark night sky. I wonder why he never came. I mean, I know it’s just a coat. A coat is no big deal, and I guess he doesn’t care. I just thought he would, that’s all.
I continue past the door and make my way down the hall. From behind me, I can hear the hustle of a group of people, and then the opening and closing thud of the front door as they laugh their way out. That must have been some of the night’s vendors – maybe the DJ or the lighting guy with the rest of their crew.
