Headliner
Sean can get under my skin like no other.
After our little blowout, I didn’t talk to him for weeks. I did receive a series of text messages from him poking fun at me though. How I’m not tough, he could take me, and he was showing restraint by not knocking my head off after I shoved him up against the wall. He thinks our little tiffs are funny. I fucking want to strangle him. Space is the best thing for me when it comes to my family. I never thought that would be true. Before, I thought I had to be there to monitor their every move. Pick up after them, take care of them, and on some level, depend on them. Because really, who else did I have?
In hindsight, I realize they were destroying me. My home environment was poisonous and doing nothing but causing a toxic reaction. I understand that now. I’ll always love them. They’re my family, my genetic link, but it’s time I stop putting them first and concentrate on me.
And yeah, maybe I do stay out all night, sleep with faceless women, and take my clothes off for a living. So what?I’m having some fun.I need the therapy. It’s either I lay on an uncomfortable leather couch and pay a hundred and fifty dollars an hour to cry about my mommy issues, or I go out and make a hundred and fifty dollars with unleashed mommies who scream and cry my name.
Which would you choose?
I stride into Daniel’s office to find out what’s on my schedule tonight. Sometimes I’m booked solid for private dances, sometimes I’m working a VIP party, sometimes I just work the male revue and then get a free night to do as I please. Those nights are usually my favorite.
“What’s on the agenda?” I ask Daniel, interrupting him from whatever he’s studying on his desk.
“Here.” He hands me a piece of paper, distracted. “You were requested in the B and B tonight. Interested?”
“Nope.” I don’t even have to think about it. The Boyfriend Bedroom. It’s exactly what it sounds like. I’ve been in there once, and I am never going back again. It’s just not for me. I can’t “pretend” that way. Too much emotion even if it is only role play.
“Okay,” Daniel huffs, clearly dissatisfied. “She was insistent. Said she’d pay double.”
“That’s okay. I’m not that hard up for money.” “No, I suppose you’re not.” He grins while still studying the papers on his desk. I glance over, curious to see what has his undivided attention.
“Vegas?” I raise my eyebrows. “Thinking of becoming a snowbird?”
Daniel shoots me a glare. He hates it when I joke about his age. Forty-two is old, isn’t it?
“Be careful, kid. You’ll be my age one day.” “One day,” I mock. “Really, though, what’s up with Vegas?”
“I’m expanding.”
“Seriously?”
“Yup, and who knows? You might just be my headlining act.”
I laugh hysterically. “Yeah, right!”
“Why is that funny?”
“Because. It just is. I mean, me? Vegas? Headliner? It just sounds ludicrous in the same sentence.”
“Don’t sell yourself short, kid. You’ve got charisma. And that’s exactly what I need.”
I scoff. “I may dance on a little stage in New York City, but I’m not delusional. I don’t have any ideas of grandeur.”
“Let me tell you something,Jack.”Daniel stands up so we are eye to eye. “Do you know why you’re so successful? Why so many women come to seeyou?”He pokes me in the chest.
“Because I willingly take my pants off?”
“No,” he groans. “It’s not that. When you perform, you make people feel it. You’re emotive; you communicate with the audience. Do you know how rare that is?”
I shake my head.
“I have been doing this a long time. And I don’t just mean running a strip club. I have been a dancer my whole life. I toured with the biggest names out there. Madonna, Janet Jackson, The Backstreet Boys. I know talent when I see it. And just because you haven’t trained professionally doesn’t mean you can’t exploit it.”
“Exploit it how?”
“With the right choreographers, we can develop your abilities. I have a vision, and it includes you.”