I walk into the dead as fuck club and check my watch. We should have a better crowd than this. There’s no one up on the main stage. Only two girls on the smaller platforms, who to be honest leave a lot to be desired. I wouldn’t throw fifty cents at them. Shit is damn near embarrassing.
“Boss,” Cyrus, calls to me from behind the bar. “There’s some chick in your office who wants a job.” He motions his hands in front of his chest indicating she has big tits.
I shake my head and chuckle at his charades. “I’ll check her out. Tell Kelli to do something about this shit.” I motion to the empty room and he nods. Kelli is the manager Hades’ hired to run the place but all she is doing is running it into the damn ground. I’m going to have to talk to him about getting someone in here who knows what the fuck they’re doing. Place needs a major overhaul. New girls. New music. New life. Walking through the door marked Staff Only, I stroll down the corridor and find the last person I expected to see in my office waiting for me.
“Melissa, right?” Her eyes go wide when she turns her head at the sound of my voice.
“Uh, hi,” she says in a soft shy tone.
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m here for a job.” A meek smile crosses her gorgeous features.
“Yeah. I don’t think your brother would be too happy about you coming to work for me.” I sit on the edge of my desk. This interview will be over in about two minutes.
“I don’t need Shawn’s permission. I’m an adult.”
“Maybe not but he’s my patched brother and I have to respect his wishes.”
“So…don’t tell him. He doesn’t come around here, does he?”
“Not often but on occasion.”
“Good. Then you have nothing to worry about.”
I sigh, cupping the back of my neck. This is a headache I don’t need right now but sitting here staring at her, she’s drop dead beautiful. A knockout and I find myself having a hard time telling her no. “You have experience?”
“I danced for two years at a club called Indigo Nights.”
“The franchise?”
“You’ve heard of it then?”
I nod and stroke my goatee. “I have. Been there a few times. Not to your club but they only hire the best.”
Her green eyes brighten. “So, I have the job?” Her voice is hopeful.
I grin. “You have an audition. Come with me.” I take her back into the dressing room and give her access to the closet full of props and stage wear.
She wrinkles her nose. “I don’t wear other people’s stuff. I have my own on under my clothes.”
“All right. You got any song preference?”
“Nope.” Melissa shakes her head.
I leave her to get ready and go back up front.
“Yo, Cyrus. Join me.” I wave him to the front of the stage. I signal to the DJ booth for Kendrick to play a new song. The music starts out low and increases in volume as the beat grows stronger. The Weekend filters through the speakers.
Cyrus takes up the stool next to mine. “The new girl?”
“Yup,” I answer him, licking my bottom lip. The first thing I notice when she steps on stage is her long tone legs. Melissa has her dark curly locks swept up into a ponytail that hangs halfway down her back. Dressed in a gold beaded bra and matching shorts, she commands my full attention. The girl definitely knows what she is doing up on the stage as she moves to the music and leaps forward, wrapping a hand around the pole and lifting her body up. Her hair hangs down as she slides down the pole stopping midway and flipping her body so that she is now facing me. Melissa wasn’t lying. She’s professional and sexy as fuck as she glides down the pole to the floor landing in the splits. Slinky and seductive she crawls to the edge of the stage and teases at dropping her bra straps. The cups of her bra plays peekaboo with her nipples and I find I am growing hard. Something that rarely happens when I watch a stripper here in the club.
Cyrus’ mouth is hanging open as he watches her, transfixed on the goddess before us as she continues to own the stage, his hand is over his crotch, subtly rubbing. Melissa leans down and grabs my face, gaining my full attention.
I don’t know if I want her on the stage or not. I know it is terrible but the thought of the men and my brothers who frequent the club seeing her dancing let alone topless, has my anger rising. My throat feels dry. I smack Cyrus across the chest, ordering him to go get me a beer.
“Yeah. Sure, whatever, in a minute,” he says still glued to Melissa’s performance.