Big Easy Escapade (8 page)

Lucy turned to Jason. “Is Daisy nervous?”

He shook his head. “Nahhh, she’s a pro. She’s
ready to rock it. You’ll be impressed.”

“Gino told me she’s fantastic,” Adrienne
said, then took a sip of her freshly poured champagne.

“This is so exciting!” Kate said. “This is my
first time in a strip club, you know.”

Al leaned over. “They’re not all like this,
honey. This one’s in a class of its own.”

Vivian scanned the crowd and was shocked to
see a face she recognized — GQ. She knocked Wendy in the arm. “Oh
my god! Oh my god!”

“What? Is everything okay?”

“Better than okay! Look who’s here!” She
discreetly pointed a few tables over.

“Wow, he looks even better up close. Go talk
to him!”

Kate saw who they were talking about. “Yeah,
go talk to him!”

Lucy waved her hand to stop. “We don’t want
you causing an international incident.”

“I won’t. I just want to say hi.” Vivian got
up and walked over to the table where GQ sat with two other
men.

He looked up at her with bored, hazel
eyes.

“Hey there! I’m Vivian. I saw you earlier
today at Hotél Versailles. We almost booked there but switched at
the last minute. How is it?”

He shrugged. “It is fine.”

“I think we may go back tomorrow for happy
hour. I heard they have a cool drink they light on fire at your
table. Have you had it?”

“No, I do not drink.”

Vivian glanced at his bottle of Perrier.

“Well, I hope you enjoy the show. My friend,
Daisy, is performing. I think she’s last.”

“You as well.”

Vivian turned and rolled her eyes as she
approached the girls. “He’s a dud. Such a waste of beautiful
features.”

“What’d he say?” Kate asked.

“Not much. A man of few words. It’s pretty
obvious he’s not interested in what I’ve got goin’ on.”

“Stupid boys,” Lucy said. “His loss.”

“Don’t sweat it, honey,” Al said, checking
his phone, then putting it away. “I saw that schmuck in here
yesterday. Never tipped any of the dancers. That’s a sign.”

The music stopped and a rotund middle-aged
man walked onto the main stage with a microphone.

Adrienne pointed. “There’s Gino. I think the
show’s about to start!”

Gino welcomed the crowd and thanked them for
coming out. He explained that the dancers being showcased were
finalists for the Newcomer of the Year award being given out in Las
Vegas.

“So without further ado, let’s get this show
started. First up tonight is Trikki Vikki, who comes to us from
Miami, Florida.”

Gino moved off stage and the lights dimmed.
ZZ Top’s “Legs” started up and a single light shone backstage. A
petite woman with freckled skin and jet-black hair pulled into a
bun, glossy red lips, wearing reading glasses and a single strand
of pearls strutted into the spotlight. Her boobs spilled out of the
plunging neckline of her white top, which was tied just below them.
Her silver metallic pencil-skirt reflected the sparkles from the
disco ball.

She danced in her clear, seven-inch platform
heels to the pole in the middle of the stage, where she slithered
around it once before throwing her glasses off. The song changed to
“Pearl Necklace” and Trikki Vikki pulled her bun loose. Her
straight black hair fell across her shoulders as she rolled around
on the floor. Her top conveniently came loose and was next to go,
but she was still partially covered by a tiny white bikini. As the
song changed to “La Grange,” she ripped her skirt off, revealing a
white G-string. She was officially ready to hit the pole.

“Dear lord, I didn’t know a body could bend
that way,” Vivian said, watching as Trikki Vikki moved from an
unnatural position to having her legs clamped around the pole,
hanging upside down.

Vikki’s routine varied from the floor to the
pole, lots of twirling and swirling. She closed out her performance
with ZZ Top’s “I’m Bad and I’m Nationwide,” and boy, was she wide.
Her splits went beyond horizontal.

“Ouch!” Lucy said, squirming in her chair.
Trikki Vikki ended with an impressive final pose on the pole.

Gino came back on stage and announced the
next dancer, Lala Lollipop. Her routine started out as
little-miss-innocent to a sexed-up version of “The Good Ship
Lollipop.” Her cocoa skin set off her lacy white bikini top that
did not have a lining, and playful short skirt with a tulle
underlining. She pulled a few lollipops from her imitation doily
and handed them to guys in the crowd, including Al.

He took it and laughed. “I wonder how many
licks it takes to get to the center of her lollipop?”

Adrienne smacked him on the arm. “Al!”

He grinned.

Lala flopped into the splits in front of
them.

“I wonder if she’s going to shoot them out of
her cooch like I saw in Thailand once,” Jason said.

The table erupted in laughter, and Lala gave
them a dirty look.

The Good Ship Lollipop set sail and Lala’s
head-banger music was a bit much for Vivian, who was relieved when
the next dancer took the stage. They watched a few other dancers
perform until finally it was Daisy’s turn.

Jason sat on the edge of his seat, focused on
her. A drumbeat started and she crawled onto the middle of the
stage, graceful as a jungle cat. She was dressed in a tribal outfit
that tied on the side, and she had animal-print body paint on her
arms and legs. Her hair was tousled and wild, and her eyes were
painted in a glittery gold.

“She looks amazing!” Kate squealed.

Daisy brushed against the pole like a cat
wanting attention, but unlike a cat, she reached out and spun
sideways, one leg up by her head, the other gripping the pole. She
did a few more tricks, showing her sleek yet muscular form, then a
vine lowered, and she pulled herself halfway up to the ceiling. The
rest of her time on stage consisted of acrobatic stunts using the
vine and the pole. She looked more like a gymnast than a burlesque
dancer.

Halfway through the routine Vivian noticed a
balding, paunch-bellied man standing behind their table, eyes
focused on Daisy. A trickle of sweat ran down his face. The French
House might have been a nicer club, but it was still a strip joint,
and creepy men were free to roam.

As Daisy finished up, she swung from the vine
to the pole, then to the floor, landing in the splits. The crowd
went wild, cheering more for her than for anyone else.

Jason beamed. “She’s got this competition in
the bag.”

Daisy took her bows, then walked offstage,
smiling and waving.

Lucy, still clapping, asked Jason if he’d
recorded the music.

“Yes, and I’m working on some new stuff for
her, too.”

“It was fantastic,” Wendy said. “And Daisy
inspires me to get in better shape! Those push-up thingies she did
with her legs wrapped over her shoulders were amazing.”

“She’s impressive,” Jason said. “She works
hard.”

Al ordered two more bottles of champagne, and
everyone chatted and watched the other performers as they waited
for Daisy to join them.

The showcase was over and one of the regular
entertainers came out in a tight, white, shimmery mini-dress and
wore big angel wings. “She Talks to Angels” by the Black Crowes
rang out through the club.

“I love love love this song!” Vivian said and
reached into her purse. “This girl gets my money.” She stood up and
waved a few ones around. The stripper slowly made her way over,
taking her time to unzip the front of her dress as she did. Vivian
stuffed the money down her dress as Kate snapped two pictures.

The bouncer started to walk over but Al waved
him off. He leaned over to Kate. “No more pictures, sweetheart. And
make sure that one doesn’t end up online anywhere.”

Kate put her phone away. “Sorry. I didn’t
know the rules.”

Commotion erupted in the bar as one guy
cracked a beer bottle over the head of another guy, who then
punched that guy in the face. They went to the floor yelling and
grunting. After a few moments, two bouncers appeared, pulled them
apart and carted them toward the exit.

“Amateurs.” Al smirked and shook his
head.

Jason checked the time on his phone. “Takes
Daisy a while to get all that paint off, but she ought to be out
soon.”

They finished up both bottles of champagne,
during which time Jason tried to call Daisy twice.

“She’s probably back there talking to the
other dancers,” Adrienne said.

Twenty more minutes passed. Vivian could see
the worry on Jason’s face as he tried calling again.

He stood, slipping his phone into his pocket.
“Something’s not right, she should be here by now. I’m going
backstage.”

D
aisy
toweled dry after scrubbing off body paint in the shower. She threw
on a black, satin robe and flip-flops and walked to her dressing
room. She sat at the lighted mirror countertop, brushed out her
hair, applied some light makeup and turned the curling iron on
before changing into a white miniskirt and turquoise blouse studded
with silver sequins. She slipped on her new, favorite heels from
Shoe-Be-Do and reassessed in the mirror.

Stacey, one of the French House dancers,
knocked, then popped her head in. “You were amazing tonight. You’re
gonna win it in Vegas. Good luck, babe!”

“Thanks,” Daisy called after Stacey’s echoing
heels. She heard the back door slam.

Daisy applied dark red lipstick and picked up
the hair dryer. She blew her hair dry in about three minutes,
flipping her head over and using a large, round brush to smooth out
her locks. She flipped the switch to cool and blew it into her
face.

She
looked at her red hair in the mirror.
Lovin’ this
megawatt color.

She picked up the curling iron and twirled a
strand of hair around it. She was hurrying, knowing Bam-Bam was
waiting for her, but she wanted to look good. The look in his eyes
when he first saw her was always worth the effort.

A knock sounded at the door, and before she
could respond a stocky, dark-haired guy walked in followed by a
leaner, but definitely fit, dark-complected man.

She
didn’t turn around, just smiled at them in the mirror. “I’m sorry,
I’m not —”

The stocky guy presented her with a pink
martini. “You earned this, that’s for sure. We just wanted to stop
by on our way out to tell you how great your performance was
tonight. We are with Desert Glitter in Las Vegas and would like you
to perform at our club next week, if you can squeeze it into your
schedule.”

Daisy smiled and took the drink. “Nice place.
I’d love to do a show at your club.” She took a refreshing sip and
picked up her phone, clicking on the calendar. “I’ll be in town for
four days and I think maybe Thursday night would work. I’ll have to
check with the promotions people at the awards, to make sure they
don’t have anything they need me to attend.”

The leaner guy looked at her drink, then at
her. “We understand completely and will do whatever is necessary to
accommodate your schedule.”

Daisy chatted with them about the competition
in Vegas while she worked on the martini and her hair. Just as she
perfected the last curl, she felt a little woozy.

Did I eat today?
she thought and started to say something but
couldn’t. She slumped against the countertop and heard a crash
right before everything went black.

***

Jason walked toward the backstage door of the
French House, a look of concern on his face.

Al pushed back his chair. “I’ll get him past
the bouncer.”

Kate jumped up. “I want to see what the back
of a strip club looks like!”

“Come on, girls,” Adrienne said. “Let’s go
see what the heck’s going on.”

As they approached, the bouncer was shaking
his head and waving Jason away. Al stepped between them, and soon
the bouncer nodded and allowed them back.

Adrienne walked by the bouncer and touched
his arm. “We appreciate you taking such good care of us,
Bruno.”

The back of the club still looked like the
warehouse it had once been, only the small offices had been
converted to dressing rooms.

Jason hustled down the hall, calling Daisy’s
name. He poked his head through a room with multiple dressing
stations. “Have you seen Daisy?” he asked a sailorette and a
nurse.

“Who?”

“No.”

He kept moving and looked into the few
dressing rooms they passed, which were empty.

They came to a bathroom, and Vivian walked in
calling for Daisy. The toilet stalls were empty, as were the two
showers, one still wet. She exited and shook her head. “No one’s in
there, but someone has taken a shower recently.”

Jason turned the knob on the next closed door
they came to just as Trikki Vikki opened it.

“Shit! You scared me,” she said.

“Have you seen Daisy?”

“No,” she said, curtly. “It’s not like we’re
friends. She does her thing, I do mine.” Vikki tried to get by him
but he blocked the door.

“When’s the last time you saw her?”

“I don’t know. Get the fuck outta my way.”
She pushed him and moved past. “I’ve got a private show to get to.”
She looked the girls up and down like they were trash, then flung
open the back door.

Jason dialed Daisy’s number again. Lionel
Richie’s “Hello” echoed from down the hall. He followed it and bent
down to pick up a phone. “It’s hers,” he said, then turned the
phone toward them.

The screen was shattered but Vivian could
still make out Jason’s smiling face and the words “Bam Bam.” She
walked to the door of the dressing room closest to the exit. A
strappy, silver, studded shoe lay on its side in the middle of the
floor. She glanced up at the lighted mirror above the dressing
table where a vase of flowers had been knocked over. The purple
ribbon around the vase had bled into the water, staining the white
laminate countertop and still slowly dripped onto the floor. The
burning scent of hair and chemicals reached her.