Page 98 of Boyfriend of the Hour

“You look hot,” Rochelle said as she started pulling out her own stage wear for the evening. “Like Velma Kelly before she goes to jail.”

I had to grin. On any other day, namechecking my favorite character fromChicagowould have just been depressing, but that was exactly the image I was going for. Dark, glam, and without any fucks to give. I hadn’t seen this girl in a while. Granted, I never brought her out expecting to audition in a place like this, but what the hell? Money was money.

“Word to the wise,” Chelle said as she adjusted her tight blue bodysuit. “Tip Kevin—that’s the other doorman—well. He walks girls to the train.”

I nodded. My cousin had already explained to me that the dancers and servers were expected to pay a small bit of our tips to the bar staff, similar to how the dancers at a club like this paid house fees and tips to the rest of the staff. Depending on the number of players and how well they did, the percentages varied. Honestly, the numbers made my head…hurt. But I’d figure it out when the time came.

“Did you pick a stage name yet?” Chelle asked while I fluffed my hair a bit more. “I don’t give anyone my real name. No stalkers, please.”

I sighed. It wasn’t a bad idea—it would actually make the whole getting into character thing easier. But I’d been completely blocked since she’d suggested I come up with one this morning. “I can’t think of anything. What’s yours?”

Rochelle grinned as she started pinning up her tight curls. “Coquita.”

I laughed. “Like the drink?”

She just grinned harder. “They always did call me a coconut back in school. I might as well use it.”

I guffawed. “It’s perfect.” I turned back to the mirror. “Should I just be lazy and call myself Velma? Or is that too Scooby Doo?”

Rochelle made a face. “You gotta do something sexy, babe.”

“Gigi it is,” I said, thinking of another famous musical character, this one a bit closer to my actual name. If I was going that direction, I might as well stick with it.

Fifteen minutes later,Rochelle took me up two sets of stairs and down another long hall to the manager’s office on the top floor of Diamonds.

“Good luck,” she said just before knocking on the open door and blowing me a kiss. “Kill it.”

“Kyle?” I entered the room, where a thin, middle-aged man with slicked-back hair and a chain around his neck the size of my belt stood from behind a big black desk. “I’m Joni, Rochelle’s cousin.”

“Joni,” he said as he extended a greasy hand with two gold rings on his thumb and pinky finger. “Good to meet you, honey. Rochelle says good things. Can’t wait to see you in action.”

I crossed the leopard-printed carpet to shake his hand and looked around the room. On one wall were a number of screens. Some were looking into a few private rooms, all currently empty, and a few others were tracking other parts of the club. The far wall of the office was just one big window that looked down into the main club. The lights were on, and there was no music playing, but I saw signs of activity as waitresses, bartenders, and other club employees floated around, getting the place ready for it to open at two.

“My knee’s still out,” I said. “But I can move a little and wait tables, serve drinks.”

“Lap dance?” Kyle asked, his beady eyes giving me a thorough once-over.

I nodded. “That won’t be an issue.”

He nodded. “Well, you look the part, honey.” His eyes stopped at my chest, and he didn’t even try to hide the fact thathe was eyeing my breasts like chicken cutlets. “Did you ever see that surgeon? I sponsored your cousin’s work, you know.”

I sighed. “I did. But I don’t think it’s for me.”

Because you’re perfect just the way you are. I could practically hear that low burr brushing against my cheek.

Kyle shrugged. “You change your mind, you let me know. We’re always happy to take on real talent here, and Rochelle says you’re the real deal.”

I nodded. “Sure. Thanks.”

Kyle then proceeded to lay out the rules for working for him, counting them with his thumb, index, and middle finger as he went. “We got three. No drugs. No stealing. No sex. Some of the girls might tell you differently about what can happen in the private rooms, but I run a straight operation at my clubs and my parties. Topless only. You can let ’em touch what you want, but nothing under the panties. They want more, you take it out of my place of business. If my liquor license is revoked because you’re turning tricks, you’re gonna owe me a whole lot more than house fees. You got me?”

I barely managed not to grimace. “I have zero problem with that.”

“Anyone gives you any grief, you talk to Kevin or one of the other security guys. I usually keep at least three at every game, more at the club. Take care of my money; take care of my girls. No matter what.”

For a fee, I expected, remembering Rochelle’s explanation. Which I fully intended to pay. I just hoped it wasn’t too much.

“All right, then,” Kyle said. “Let’s head downstairs and get your audition done before we open. Afterward, we can take care of the paperwork. If everything goes all right, you do a few trial shifts here, and then maybe you can serve at some games next week. I got a hot game going on uptown.”