The One With The Fourteen Digits
As if being turned in to Cinderella for the day wasn’t bad enough, Ruby—my evil step-mother by juxtaposition—just found me an evil-step sister. I really couldn’t tell you what it was about Cade that rubbed me the wrong way, but just the thought of him made me angry. Standing in Ruby’s office, interrogating her as to her employment decisions, I started to feel that anger bubbling more and more; it didn’t help that Ruby was, quite in fact, being evil.
“Look, Zac,” Ruby finally snapped. “I know I’m the best boss to work for, and that we’ve got this really casual relationship, but the fact still remains: This is my club, I am the boss, and I can hire whoever I want without consulting you. I don’t know why you’ve got your panties in such a twist about it, though. Cade’s a good looking guy—even you can appreciate that, can’t you?”
“Yeah, sure,” I grumbled. “Look, I’m sorry I got all Norman Bates on you just now. It’s just, I dunno, there’s something about him that feels off to me.”
Ruby smiled, shaking her head. “You’re ridiculous. He’s totally harmless—full background check, remember? Besides, he worked for his dad’s plumbing company in high school, so you’re off pipe duty. I do need you to go mop the floor, though. Get Taylor to help you,” she smiled, patting my chest, then walked out of the office.
I followed, grumbling a bit to myself as I headed to the supply closet. I filled two mop buckets, put a mop in each, then rolled them to the front, individually. “Taylor, help me move these tables and chairs—Ruby wants us to mop.”
“Oh, goodie—she’s letting us use mops this time! I so dread having to crawl around on my hands and knees,” Taylor clapped his hands together in mock giddiness.
“Please.” I set the chairs on top of the tables, one by one. “I think the word you’re looking for regarding being on your knees is that you love it.”
Taylor didn’t respond verbally; instead, he chose to throw a wet washcloth at me. I picked the cloth up from the floor where it landed after skimming past me wide to the left, and hurled it back at him from across the room. The payload did not hit its intended target, but unlike Taylor’s lack of aim, mine was because of interference. I watched, in slow-motion, as the wadded up wash cloth flew through the air and smacked into Cade’s chest before tumbling to his feet. I felt my eyes go wide, my lips pulling in to what I hoped was an apologetic grimace. Taylor was laughing from behind the bar.
Cade simply bent down, picking up the wash cloth. I flinched as he threw it, sure it was going to collide with my face momentarily, only to open my eyes and see that Cade had sent it flying behind him. It landed across Taylor’s face before sliding off, making a loud “squish” sound as it hit the water in the sink.
“Oooh, burn!” I shouted at him, laughing.
“Whatever, Zac.” I could see Taylor roll his eyes from where I stood, and all I could do was shake my head. He always had a flare for the dramatic, and he didn’t spare any melodrama on this act; with one hand on his hip, he rolled his eyes with his entire head. “That was just mean.”
I raised my hand to my ear and rubbed my thumb and forefinger together. “Can you hear that, Tay? It’s the world’s tiniest violin, playing the saddest song for you.”
“I hate you,” Taylor spat.
“I know. Now get mopping,” I demanded, pointing to his mop bucket.
“You’re sure you’re not a couple?” Cade’s voice startled me, my attention turning toward him.
“Of course I’m sure we’re not a couple,” I remarked, a little confused by his question.
Cade raised his eyebrows and shrugged. “Ok, if you say so,” he mumbled before walking back toward the stage.
A few moments later, I had rung the mop out and started mopping my side of the club’s floor. I wasn’t sure why Ruby was having us do this now—the bartenders usually mopped at the end of the night; I was sure she was making us do it just to make us do it. Currently, the floors already look damn clean to me, so I just went over it lightly, grumbling. By the time we had put the chairs back, it was almost time to open. The bartender had arrived, so Taylor and I went to the back room to get ready. I snuck into the tiny bathroom first, wanting to take a quick shower. It really couldn’t be classified as a bathroom, lacking a toilet, but it provided a stand-up shower and sink for us to utilize should we need to.
I was in and out within fifteen minutes, my hair blow-dried and my costume on in the next twenty. It was then that I heard a commotion from the front of the club; we’d been open for about thirty minutes, and Cade had gone on first, being a brand new dancer. He also had the shortest solo stage time. Judging by the crowd’s reaction, it probably wouldn’t stay that way for long. The women were going nuts.
Soon, Ruby’s voice announced Taylor and I, and we hopped up on the stage. I saw a lot of faces from the last few nights we’d worked at the club, and a lot more new faces. Each night, the audience seemed to grow—friend tells a friend, who tells a friend and so on. As part of our repayment, Ruby had scheduled us an extra night next week, and when she announced it during our intro, the entire crowd went up in a roar. Throughout the night, I saw more money being thrown at me than I had in a long time; by closing time, the money jars Taylor and I each had were both overflowing with tips. I couldn’t wait to count it out—I might have been able to just pay Ruby the five-hundred dollars and be done with it.
Cade came into the ready room a few minutes after we did, having been watching our routine from the bar. “You guys sure made a good bit in tips tonight,” he chuckled.
“Yeah…the ladies came out in droves this evening,” I replied with only a half-forced smile. “Our private parties have garnered us a lot of attention recently.”
“Good,” Cade nodded. “The more people who come out for you, the more people will see—and hopefully tip—me,” he winked, walking over to the area Ruby had designated for him. He walked by a few minutes later, a backpack slung over his shoulder. “You guys ever think about a group performance with the key dancers? You two, Eduardo…maybe me? It might be fun.”
“Um, maybe. I’ll run it by Taylor and Eduardo; we’ll let you know.” I offered.
“Actually, I already talked to Taylor and Eduardo, and they both think it’d be a great idea.” Cade beamed.
“O…oh,” I stuttered, feeling a little bit betrayed by Taylor and Eduardo. I wish they would have consulted me before volunteering us all for a group performance, and was especially disheartened by Taylor not coming to me. I didn’t especially like the idea of doing a big group performance, but I sure wasn’t going to let Taylor work with Eduardo and Cade without me. “Well, I guess if everyone else is in, I have to be in,” I shrugged.
“Awesome! We were thinking we’d get started tomorrow around noon, go over some ideas for routines and whatnot. Here’s my number in case you’re going to be late; we’ll meet here. Ruby’s already given us the go-ahead.” He smiled a perfect smile of straight, dazzling-white teeth, patted me on the shoulder, and walked out of the ready room.
I followed a few minutes later, looking for Taylor. He had scurried out of the room at some point during mine and Cade’s conversation—presumably to get a head start to the car and stall the verbal lashing I would instill—and I wanted to give him a piece of my mind without getting blood on my interior. I didn’t have far to look; as I came in to the club’s main room, I saw Taylor and Cade standing by the bar, chatting with a gorgeous redhead. She was giggling, but her eyes were betraying her words, as she kept scanning the room. When she saw me, her smile widened and she excused herself from Taylor and Cade, walking cautiously over to me.
“Hi,” she giggled. “I’m sorry, you must get this all the time, and I’m sure it’s against your rules or something but…I think you’re incredibly sexy and I just wanted to give you my number,” she handed me a business card, flashing me a pouty smile with her plump, red-stained lips.
I wasn’t sure how to respond to her; I wanted to throw her on the table and take her right there, but thought better of it. I managed to flash what I hoped looked like a flirty smile and said, “Thanks…I think you’re pretty sexy, yourself.” She giggled again, and I hoped it was because I had sounded smooth, not dorky.
“Call me sometime,” she whispered before turning in her stilettos and walking away, sashaying her hips as she went.
My eyes were still glued to the door after she exited, the sight of her round ass as she moved etched in my mind, when I heard someone snap their fingers in my ear. “Roll your tongue up off the floor, Romeo,” Taylor patted my shoulder. “You know you can’t.”
“Ruby would never have to know,” I whispered.
“Ruby always knows.”
“Damnit, Ruby, where did you come from?” I asked, turning around to see her behind me, hands on her hips.
“I’m everywhere. Throw it out, Zac.” She pointed to the trash, then walked away, trusting me to do as she asked.
“Ok, fine,” I called, slipping the business card into my pocket. I could hang on to it, and as long as I didn’t call her it wouldn’t be a problem.
When Taylor and I got out to the car, he blocked my way to the door. “You know how pissed off Ruby would be if she knew you didn’t throw that number away?”
“What’s the big deal?” I shrugged. “If I don’t call it, I’m not breaking any rules.”
“And if you do call it, you’ll be fired,” he pointed out.
I sighed. He had a point, and in an effort to cease a full-scale blowout, I conceded. “Alright, alright. I’ll get rid of the number.”
Taylor eyed me as if he didn’t really believe me, but moved out of my way and allowed us to be on our way. The drive home was eerily silent, but once we arrived back at the house and had a beer, Taylor was back to his usual, chatty self. He commented on the turnout at the club, the massive amount of tips we made, and then, ever so carefully, he changed subject to Cade’s group performance. “You’re not…mad at me about that, are you?”
“Mad? No.” It was a blatant lie, but I think I sold it enough for him to buy it. If I had failed, he didn’t seem to want to call my bluff. “I’m a little disappointed, but…I think a nice Chicken French over linguine with clam sauce might earn you a little of my trust back,” I smirked at him.
Taylor eyed me, suspiciously, for a moment. “Well. Only because now I want Chicken French. I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.”