He stared down at his hand. "Thought it was dark enough in here." He lifted his gaze. "It's a complicated relationship."
I shook my head. "I don't need to hear. You live your life, and what you do in your spare time is your business. Do you have children?" I asked.
Again, his face dropped. "Two. They're eight and ten, and I adore them."
"So, your whole life is going swimmingly, the high-paying job, and given the car you drive, I'm sure you don't park it in front of a rundown apartment, so I'm guessing you live in a beautiful house and you have kids you adore but your marriage is complicated? I wish I had those kinds of complications." I sat back. "Sorry. That sounded pathetic. I guess I'm just wondering why you're coming into Tommy's so much."
He lifted his face. "To see you."
"But how did you know I worked here?"
Evan adjusted the heavy watch on his wrist. "That came out wrong. Again, I promise I wasn't stalking you."
I smiled weakly. "Me thinks the man doth protest too much."
His smile was appealing. "I guess so." He leaned back and loosened his tie a bit. "I came in here one night just to have a few drinks and forget my rough day. You see, success doesn't always mean you skate through life without any problems. Anyhow, I sat right there at that table, drowning my sorrows in scotch, and then this woman glided onto stage on the longest, most amazing pair of legs I'd ever seen and she—well—she stole my breath away. Her face, her smile, the way she moved on stage. I would love to leave out the word obsession, but I won't. Like you say, protesting only makes me look guilty."
I stiffened.
"You're already reacting to that word, and I don't blame you." Evan leaned forward. He reached across, but I kept my hands in my lap. "This has never happened to me before. I leave here thinking about you. I wake up thinking about you. And now you've sat here and confirmed my theory that you are not just apretty dancer. You're someone who I want to get to know. All the layers. I could sit here and talk to you all night, Rachel."
My phone alarm went off making me jump, which in turn made Oscar jump. I winked at him to let him know I was fine. I turned off the alarm.
I felt another blush come on. "Jasmine said you asked for fifteen minutes, and I'm still on the clock," I added, so it wouldn't sound so harsh. I wasn't entirely sure how to absorb what he'd said. My intuition was usually good when it came to men, and none of the typical alarm bells, aside from my phone, were going off.
Evan reached into his pocket and handed me two crisp hundred-dollar bills. He stuck to his word. I took the money and folded it. "Thank you." The silence between us felt suddenly awkward. The chat was ending on him basically hanging his heart out on his sleeve. I had no idea what to say in reply. "It's been nice talking to you, Evan," I finally managed to choke out.
"Yes, it's been very nice, Rachel."
I got up and tried not to scurry like a frightened mouse to the back, but I could feel his gaze on me and I found myself scurrying anyway. I landed in the dressing room and found myself trying to catch my breath.
Jasmine rushed in behind me. "What happened? You looked like you were hurrying away. Did he try something? I'll have Oscar get rid of him."
"No, it was fine, Jaz. He was a gentleman." My heart rate was slowing down. I opened my hand and showed her the money. "Two hundred bucks. This will come in handy."
"It sure will. So, what did he say? Who is he? Why did he ask you to sit with him? Is he interested?" Jasmine asked anxiously.
"He's married."
Jasmine's enthusiastic posture deflated. "Shit. Aren't they all. Oh well, at least you got some nice money out of the deal." She walked out.
I stared down at the money on my palm. "Yeah, at least there's that," I muttered to myself.
ten
. . .
Rachel
Francine had plans to meet her boyfriend after work, so I needed to take an Uber home. It meant spending some of my precious tip money, but thanks to the extra two hundred dollars, I'd had a great night. I was sure a man like Evan, handsome and rich, would grow tired of sitting in our seedy little strip club. It would be easy for a man like him to cheat on his wife. All I knew was I was walking out tonight with a nice stack of cash. I'd pay a few bills and put the rest in my savings account.
I finishedscrapingoff the layers of stage makeup. It always left my skin dry and pink. I grabbed my coat off the hook and headed out. Most of the patrons, including Evan, had shuffled out. My phone pinged with the alert that my ride was a mile away.
Jasmine was wiping down the drink counter. "Hey, before you go, your admirer left you this." She smiled smugly as she handed over a folded napkin. Black ink bled through it. "I didn't read it," she said, adding in another smug grin.
"Right. And I'm going to ride home on my silver unicorn." I contemplated tossing the napkin without reading the message, but something told me Jasmine would just fill me in on the contents anyway.
She waited patiently for me to open and read it.