Southern Seduction (11 page)

“So what the hell happened to you last night?” Eliza inquires as she pours a fresh cup of coffee.

“Yeah, you just up and left us…
and Devon
. That guy was all kinds of into you. He practically begged me for your number,” Sarah adds as she plops her tired ass into one of the kitchen table chairs.

Daniella rubs her eyes and leans against the kitchen counter, eyeing Sarah skeptically. “I had a bad case of the spins so I left before I ended up puking on a stripper. And what do you mean he begged you for my number? Did you give it to him?” She raises an interrogating eyebrow in her friend’s direction.

Sarah laughs and shrugs her shoulders before focusing her attention on her coffee mug.

“Sarah?!”

Sarah bursts out laughing in response to Daniella’s stern tone. She holds her hands up in the air in relinquishment. “Okay, okay. Calm down, sassy pants. I might have given the Marine your number, but seriously, I thought you two were hitting it off.”

“Isn’t that against some kind of friend code to just pass out your best friend’s number to random men?” Daniella can’t hide her slight irritation, which is strange considering she was getting pretty cozy with that sexy Marine last night.

“I’m sorry, Danny. Please don’t be mad at me.” She releases a full-on pout—the kind of pout she knows her best friend won’t be able to resist—while Eliza continues to observe the entire conversation with amusement. Her head follows their banter back and forth like she’s watching a tennis match.

Daniella holds her hand up in the air, blocking Sarah’s face from her view. “Stop with the pouting. You know I can’t take it.” She lowers her hand to find that puppy-dog pout still on display and promptly blocks it again. “Fine! I’m not mad,” she huffs out in exasperation.

Sarah and Eliza both laugh loudly and watch their best friend storm out of the kitchen. The sound of her feet stomping against the hardwood floor echoes throughout the entire apartment.

“She still sounds kind of pissed,” Sarah declares before taking a lengthy sip of coffee.

Eliza’s only response to that statement is a barking laugh and a soft pat on Sarah’s back. “I think you’re going to be on her shit list for a while. Good luck with that.”

Daniella stands in front of the giant sign that reads
Wild Nights
. Her eyes take in the empty parking lot and rather run-down appearance of the strip club, daylight showing off the building in a new light. Her hands tremble slightly as she tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear. She takes a cavernous breath and strives to muster up the courage to walk inside.

She’s not sure how she got here. After her conversation with Eliza and Sarah, her body seemed to go on autopilot, taking over her every move. She showered, got dressed, fixed her hair, and even took the time to apply a little makeup. Next thing she knew, she was in her car. And thirty minutes later, she was sitting in the parking lot of Wild Nights.

And now…well, she’s here.

She’s actually standing in front of the strip joint with plans of stepping inside and looking for employment. A lot people could perceive this recent turn of events as an all-time low for her, but she’s going to think of it as a necessary means to an end. She needs this job. She needs money. And if she manages those two things, she’ll be able to finish her bachelor’s degree, which in turn will allow her to continue on to grad school. Looking for employment as a stripper seems to be a necessary evil. It’s the only way she can obtain a large amount of cash in a timely manner without having to put her burdens on her family.

That final thought has Daniella hesitantly moving her feet towards the building. She uses that thought to motivate her to open the door and step inside. And she hangs on to that thought with an ironclad grasp as she walks through the empty club.

“We’re closed!” a deep voice yells in her direction. A man stands up from behind the bar and continues stocking glasses as he eyes her curiously.

“I’m aware you’re closed. I’m not here for lap dances. I’m here for a job.” She can’t help the small bite of sass that comes through her voice.

He laughs and proceeds to step out from behind the bar, sitting down on a stool and gesturing for her to take a seat. He’s older, middle-aged, with warm hazel eyes—not at all what Daniella expected to find. She pictured male staff at strip clubs to appear slimy and cold, constantly lusting over the female employees, but this man isn’t like that at all. He hasn’t even given her a once-over from what she can tell. She takes a seat beside him and props her elbows up on the table, inquisitively glancing in his direction.

“So you’re here for a job?” he asks interestedly.

“Yes.”

“What kind of job are you looking for exactly?”

Her brow creases in confusion. What the hell kind of question is that? This is a strip club for goodness’ sakes! She’s not here for a bank teller position.

“Uh…I’d like to work as a stripper. I’m pretty sure that’s about the only job you can get in clubs like this.”

The man laughs huskily; the sound is deep and raspy like a long-time smoker’s voice. “You’ve got some sass, don’t ya?” his Southern drawl questions her as he raises an amused brow.

She shrugs her shoulders, not sure what the correct answer is to that question. She knows she’s stubborn…
but sassy?

“I’m Grant by the way. I’m the general manager here at Wild Nights. I do all of the hiring and firing.” He holds his callused hand out for her to shake. A warm smile consumes his face. “What’s your name?”

She takes his hand without hesitation. “Daniella.”

“Well it’s very nice to meet you, Daniella. You look pretty young. How old are ya?”

“Twenty-one.”

“You got some ID on ya to prove that?” he inquires without remorse. Grant Perkins wasn’t born yesterday, and he has seen his fair share of girls who attempt to fake their age in order to get a job as a stripper.

She pulls her license out of her purse without reluctance and hands it to him. His eyes scrutinize it, taking in every detail.

Eventually, he hands the license back to her, seemingly satisfied that it’s not a fake. “So have you danced before?”

She laughs a little at that question. She knows he’s asking if she’s stripped…but his generalization leaves plenty of room for her to
generalize
her “dancing” experience. “Yes, I’ve
danced
before.”

Grant proceeds to ask Daniella several questions in regards to dancing, past employment, and her current lifestyle. It would seem that this club does everything in its power to avoid employing staff with lots of life drama and/or addictions. She has no problem responding to his questions with one hundred percent truth. The only thing she had to glaze over was her prior dancing experience. It’s not that she lied; she just didn’t give him the
full truth
.

Twenty minutes later, Daniella has been given the tour of the club, including the areas where only staff is allowed, and she’s filled out forms for employment. It would seem that she just got hired.
As a stripper.
And not only did she get hired, but she also picked her stripper name and confidently told her new manager that she’d be ready to dance in less than thirty-six hours. Somehow she managed all of this without seeing Penn Wilder.

She asked Grant about the owner of Wild Nights and his response was that he’s not as active with the club as he used to be. Daniella found herself surprisingly relieved about this fact, and she is praying that she can continue to fly under his radar. Maybe she can dance at Wild Nights for a few months before Penn actually realizes she’s one of his employees. Hell, if she only managed one month’s worth of tips from dancing, she would be in the clear. One month and she could pay this semester’s tuition.

As Daniella Pruitt walks out into the parking lot and hops inside her Ford Focus, all she can think about is what will happen tomorrow night…

It’ll be the first night that the patrons of Wild Nights will get their first introduction to Roxie.

Penn sits behind the large desk in his office located in one of the back rooms of Wild Nights. His eyes are busy reading through the recent contracts his lawyer just sent over. The contracts are the first step in his obtaining several new locations for opening more clubs. He loves everything he’s accomplished since opening his strip club. It was a fun business venture and has profited him immensely, but he’s recently focused his energy developing plans for clubs that aren’t of the erotic dancer variety. His five-year plan includes opening up several night clubs throughout the United States and selling his share of Wild Nights to his general manager, Grant Perkins.

Grant has been his right-hand man since Wild Nights opened, and Penn has recently given him most of the reins in terms of managing employees and handling the majority of the business’s operations. He knows the club is in good hands and that once it’s been fully passed over to Grant it will continue to succeed. It’s not that Penn doesn’t want to be associated with a strip club; he’s just ready to move on to bigger and better things. He’s learned a lot of lessons and gained invaluable experience with his first venture, and he’s more than prepared to try something new.

Grant steps into his office and closes the door. He makes himself comfortable in the leather chair facing Penn’s desk. “So I just hired a new dancer. I have a feeling she has a lot of potential,” he says, updating Penn with excitement in his voice.

He looks up from his desk and eyes Grant curiously. “Is that so?”

Grant nods encouragingly. “Yeah. She’s young and I’m sure she’ll have some things to learn, but I have a feeling she’ll end up being one of the best dancers we have.”

“How did you manage to find her?”

“I didn’t. She found me. I was behind the bar cleaning up from last night and lo and behold, she just walked right into the club and inquired about a job.” He chuckles loudly at the surprised look that crosses Penn’s face. “Don’t worry. She’s twenty-one and has actual identification to prove it. Although, I’m a little skeptical that she’s ever really danced before, but I’m going to introduce her to Kitty and let her show her the ropes.”

“That sounds like a good plan,” Penn answers as he leans back in his office chair and undoes the buttons of his black blazer.

Grant cocks his head to the side, scrutinizing his current boss’s bland expression. “You don’t mind that I hired her, do ya?”

Penn raises a noncommittal hand in response. “Don’t be ridiculous. Considering that you’re going to be running this club in a few short months, I’m happy to see you take the reins.”

He smiles at his encouraging response. “Good. Well, I’ve got Roxie starting on the floor tomorrow night. The kid said she could easily get a dance routine together in time. Not gonna lie, I was a little taken back by her sass. She’s kind of a ball buster, but that’s the kind of personality we like around here. Our girls have to be able to hold their own and not hesitate to put cocksuckers with grabby hands in their place.”

Penn’s eyes go wide at the description of the new dancer. She sounds like the girl he can’t seem to get out of his head.
Daniella Pruitt.
He brushes off that ridiculous thought and nods in agreement to Grant’s prior statement.