Read Tea Leafing: A Novel Online

Authors: Weezie Macdonald

Tea Leafing: A Novel

BOOK: Tea Leafing: A Novel
12.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads
 
 
 
 

 

 
 

Tea Leafing

By Weezie
Macdonald

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

All characters appearing in this work are
fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely
coincidental.

Copyright © 2013 by Weezie Macdonald
All rights reserved.
This book or any portion thereof
may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever
without the express written permission of the publisher
except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

Printed
in the United States of America

First
Printing, 2013

ISBN
0-6157870-1-5

Weezie
Macdonald
5279 Grande Palm Circle
Delray Beach, FL 33484

www.WeezieMacdonald.com

 
 
 
 
 
 
 

For Martin.

 
 
 

PROLOGUE

Atlanta, Georgia

Autumn 2004

 

“When you come to work,
give your keys to me or the one of the valets. See that machine in the corner?
That’s a Breathalyzer. You have to pass that before we give you your keys back
at the end of the night. If you don’t pass, we’ll call you a cab. No
exceptions. No screwing customers, managers, bouncers or other dancers while at
work. No screwing customers outside work. No drugs in this building. Ever. We
do random locker searches, and drug dogs will be brought in. What you do on
your own time is your business. Bring it in to work and you make it ours.”
Lucille recited her monologue in a flat tone as though reading her shopping
list. She looked bored peering over her half-moon readers at the new girl.

Lena snickered, “Have
you ever seen a drug dog in here?”

“Right?” Sam rolled her
eyes.

“The hundred dollar
house fee must be paid to me by midnight, no later. If you can’t make a hundred
dollars by midnight you should consider another career path. At the end of the
night you pay the rest. Fifteen percent of your
total take
to the DJ and another ten to the bouncers. Mine is a minimum of twenty bucks a
night to help you back here in the dressing room. If you aren’t gonna show for
work, call at least a half an hour before the start of your shift, or pay a
fifty-dollar fine before you’re allowed to work again. You can come in late,
but it’s an extra twenty-five for every half hour. Being at work means being on
the floor, not in the dressing room, not in the bathroom,
on the floor
. When you are ready to work, go straight to the DJ
booth and get on the rotation for stages. There are three stages, main and two
satellites. Get your ass to stage when your name is called. Each stage set is
three songs. First song is clothed, second is topless,
third
is nude.”

The new girl flinched.

Lena looked away, “God,
it’s so hard to be new in this business. I always feel sorry for them.”

“Accept tips in your
garter. Not your hand, not your cleavage, not with your buns,
in your garter
. No lewd dancing. No
bending over more than 45 degrees. No squatting. No customer is allowed to
touch you when you are disrobed. You are only allowed to touch the customer’s
shoulders. No inappropriate touching, fondling, lap dancing, live sex shows or
engaging in any illegal activities. This is not Macy’s and we won’t give you a
warning. If we catch you putting the livelihoods of the 312 employees in jeopardy
you will be fired. The cops and the city are not our biggest fans and will shut
us down if given half a chance, so be Johnny Cash and walk the line.”

“Now that you know the
rules, I can tell you that you can have a lot of fun and make shitloads of money.
But this job ain’t for everyone, so go figure it out.” Lucille patted the new
girl on her bare shoulder. “Welcome to the Pink Pussycat, Honey.” With that,
she turned and waddled towards her perch at the far end of the dressing room, crossword
in hand.

“That was a pretty cold
delivery.” Sam shook her head. “But she has to get her sea legs or she’s never
gonna make it.”

Lena dug into her trail
mix, picking past the nuts and raisins to the M&Ms.

“Listen up, kittens!”
Lucille’s voice boomed from the back of the room. “Convention season starts
next week so make sure to check the schedule on the wall near the door. We need
as many girls as possible working every shift. If you’re interested in
promoting, talk to me and I’ll get you scheduled.”

“Promoting?” The new
girl looked up at Sam and Lena.

 
“Yeah, you don’t want to do it. Dress
like a whore with a company tee shirt and hand out free passes in public. They
do it for sporting events and conventions. All the guys hit on you and girls give
you the evil eye. You get a hundred and fifty bucks and free booze. Waste of
time.” Lena smiled, “I’m Lena, and this is Sam.”

“I’m Rainbow,” the girl
managed a nauseated smile, “thanks for the advice.”

Her eyes darted down
the row of chairs to the corner of the dressing room. A mousy brunette with her
face pushed behind a Dean Koontz book patiently waited while the low
hum-clicking
of an automatic breast pump did its job.
Completely oblivious to the activity around her, the new mom munched on carrot
sticks from a snack sized Ziploc bag brought from home.

“Hey, I know it’s
frightening. Every girl here had a first night and remember, nobody would do
this job if it sucked that bad.” Lena consoled her, “Get ready, check in with
the DJ and find a place to sit for a while. If you watch the other girls, you’ll
figure out how it’s done and it’ll get easier. Plus, lots of guys think the
‘new girl’ thing is hot. I was scared to death my first night and ended up
banking twelve hundred. Swear it’s not that bad, but your nerves will get you
for a while.”

Sam watched Lena
deliver her pep talk and tried not to laugh. Lena – dressed in
a leather
, bondage outfit with a bullwhip looped across her
knee – not the first person one would pick by sight as a mentor.

Rainbow nestled her bag
under the make-up counter between two others and smiled at Lena and Sam.
“Thanks, I think I needed to hear that.”

“Find one of us if
you’ve got questions. By the end of the night you’ll be asking yourself why you
waited so long to start dancing.”

The new girl nodded and
tottered off in search of the stages, the DJ booth, and most likely, the bar.

 
 
 

CHAPTER 1

Skimming the faces
pointed up at her, Sam picked a mark.
Dark navy suit with a subtle
pin stripe.
Caramel colored liquid, served neat in
a
lowball
.
A natural winter tan.
Capped teeth.
Bingo.
       

The garter on Sam’s leg snapped against her flesh and she
slid the new folded bill against the others. She would smooth, face and
organize the crumpled mess when she was off stage.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” she purred.

“Whatever. Just come see me when you’re down.”

Frank, one of her
regular customers,
stalked off
through the
crowd and assumed his usual spot, an overstuffed chair by the mirrored back
wall. Sashaying
around the top of an up-lit,
Plexiglas box, Sam saw her friend Grace picking her way through the throng
towards her stage.

Grace’s
usual catlike stride was a frantic stumble through
the tweed and spandex mob. Tousled platinum locks bobbed as she made her way
closer.

As Grace reached the
stage, Sam saw her eyes were red and swollen with black tracks of mascara
lining her beautiful face.

 
“Bathroom,” she choked, just loud enough
for Sam to hear.

Sam nodded,
never losing her smile or her step.

After six more
dance-mix “Suga Baby” choruses, the song finally ended and Sam hustled down the
narrow steps, through the crush of slow moving gawkers, toward the back of the
club. She hated ignoring Frank, but she knew something must be seriously wrong.
Grace didn’t lose her grip — ever. Even in the throes of the worst PMS,
Sam had never seen her like this.

Passing the large brass
and mahogany bar against the back wall of the main floor, Sam looked for her
friend Mary Jane, who was bartending. The empty gaze Sam saw on Mary Jane’s
ashen face told her that whatever news she was heading toward had already made
its way to the bar.

Rounding the corner
from the dressing room to the ladies’ bathroom, Sam saw her usually fiery
friend Birdie standing in the open doorway of the last stall. She didn’t look
good. Grace was hidden behind the wall of the stall, but the sound of her
heaving into the toilet echoed off the hard surfaces of the room.

“What’s
going on?” Sam joined Birdie in the doorway of the stall, and looked down at
Grace.

Birdie shifted
uncomfortably, her red-rimmed eyes darting between Grace and Sam.

“What?” Sam demanded
again.

Grace looked up, wiping
spittle off her mouth with her fingertips.

“Lena,” Grace breathed.

“Lena got arrested?
Lena’s pregnant? Lena WHAT for Chrissake?”

“Lena’s dead,” Birdie
whispered.

 
“No, she’s not.” The muscle above Sam’s
eye twitched, “It’s a mistake.”

Grace leaned back over
the toilet and wretched.

Birdie looked down at
her X-Rated schoolgirl outfit. Her long red curls fell across her face. “I
fackin’ hope so, but blondie ova here swears it’s true.”

Sam got a paper towel
from the wall dispenser and ran it under cold water. Wedging herself past
Birdie and into the stall, she pulled Grace’s hair away from her face and
collected the strays into a ponytail. Sam draped the cool, damp towel across
her neck. Grace’s stomach was now empty, but the reflex was still active. Sam
waited, gently stroking her back until the heaving subsided.

Grace lifted her face,
“It’s her. I know it’s her, Sam. What are we gonna do?” She sobbed and
collapsed into Sam with the full weight of her hundred and five pounds.

Sam
pet
her hair and looked up at Birdie, who hadn’t moved from the doorway of the
stall. Birdie shrugged uncomfortably.

“Okay, just tell me
what happened, babe. Start from the beginning.”

“One of my customers told
me. He’s a proofreader at the
The Atlanta
Journal & Constitution
. The crime desk sent him a story just before
cut-off tonight. The body of a twenty-two-year-old girl from an old Savannah
family was found —” Grace moaned and closed her eyes as she continued,
“in a ditch on I-75. She’d been shot.”

“Well that doesn’t mean
a thing, baby, that coulda been anyone.” Sam hugged Grace and rocked her back
and forth. She could still feel her eye twitch and hoped the other two hadn’t
noticed it. The urge to straighten the money on her leg, or adjust her dress,
or just do something —
anything

was getting worse by the minute.

 
“My customer said they are trying to
notify the family before they release the name. He said
it’s
Alexandra Chandler.” Grace pushed away from Sam and looked at her, “You know
that’s Lena’s real name, Sam.”

Birdie was staring up
at the ceiling in an effort to balance the tears behind her false lashes.
Giving up, she looked straight at Sam and they rolled free down her cheeks.

Birdie breathed, in her
thick English accent. “Fack! Fack! Fack!” She turned and kicked the pink,
painted metal door with her Lucite stiletto.

 
Grace muttered through her sobs,
“Someone in research managed to dredge up Alex’s cotillion picture. Guillermo,
my customer, said it looked a lot like Lena and that’s why he stopped in. To
see if I knew anything about it.”

For the first time in a
long while, Sam felt the sting in her nose that signaled tears.

Tak. Tak. Tak.

The familiar sound of
the manager’s key ring tapping the metal doorjamb echoed through the bathroom.

Birdie’s head snapped.

Gio
.”

Sam positioned Grace so
that her hair wouldn’t fall into the toilet and shot up against the cold, metal
wall. Bouncers respected what little privacy the girls had, but the managers roamed
every inch of the club. The bathroom was no exception.

BOOK: Tea Leafing: A Novel
12.65Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Lemonade Sky by Jean Ure
Pirates Past Noon by Mary Pope Osborne
My Wife's Little Sister by Cassandra Zara
The Star Beast by Robert A Heinlein
Sudden Death by Phil Kurthausen
Stranded in Paradise by Lori Copeland
The City of Pillars by Joshua P. Simon