Page 23 of The Rebel of Raleigh High
She nods, covering herself with her coat again.
“And you dance upstairs only. No dancing down in the basement.”
“Why, what’s in the basement?”
Monty squints at her. He’s deciding whether or not to tell her the truth, but in the end, he doesn’t have much of a choice. If she’s gonna dance here at all, she’s gonna find out all of the Rock’s secrets soon enough. “A club. Akinkclub. People go down there to fuck. If you’re smart, you’ll give the place and the customers a wide berth. You stay upstairs on the bar floor, you strip down to your underwear, and then you take whatever tips you make and get out of here. I see so much as a nipple and you’re done. Have I made myself clear?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Polite. Good. I like that. What’s your name?”
“Halliday, Sir.”
Monty grunts. “Whenever you walk through the door of this establishment, you’re no longer Halliday. You’re Billie. Your very first stripper name. Lucky you. Consider yourself christened. Now get the hell out of here before I change my mind.”
“Thank you, Mr. Montgomery.” Looking a little nervous, Halliday quickly backs out of his office.
Monty shoots me a weary look that speaks volumes. He thinks I’m a moron for even bringing her before him and he’s not afraid to show it. “Keep an eye on her, Moron. You vouched for her. She’s your responsibility now.”
Great. Just what I fucking need.
I’m back out on the bar floor and Halliday, or rather Billie is set up on the stage, when I feel my phone buzz in my back pocket. The text is from a number I don’t recognize.
(253) 441 9678. Sorry, classes are off. I can’t teach you. Harriet’s a great trumpet teacher. Best of luck – S.
