Then Came Love (5 page)

“All right, Gran. I promise.”

* * *

“I can’t go back on my promise!” She and Maxine, a server at the club were taking a much-needed break in the alley behind the club. “I said I wouldn’t put her in a seniors’ home and that’s that.”

Maxine took a deep drag on her cigarette. “Very admirable, but you can’t go on the way you are. Have you looked in the mirror lately? You’ve lost weight.” Maxine narrowed her eyes. “But you’re still gorgeous. God, if I had that long hair and that figure I’d be up there on the stage dancing.”

Amanda toyed with the coffee mug she’d brought outside. “I’ve thought about it.” She looked sideways at her friend. “Do they really make a lot of money?”

Maxine nodded. “Let’s put it this way. Tiffany just bought a condo in that fancy new building on False Creek.”

Amanda gave a slight shudder. “I don’t know. People have such strange ideas about exotic dancers.”

“So? Do you care what other people think?”

Amanda watched a stray dog nosing through the garbage at the end of the alley. “What I care about is making enough money to take care of Gran. I need somebody to come in a few hours a day, that’s all.”

* * *

The transition to dancer was remarkably easy. The Executive Chef railed against her defection, but Amanda saw through the tirade that went on for a good ten minutes. For the first time since she’d started working at The Club, she saw a glint of respect in those dark eyes. Respect and something else that could only be described as lust.

She was to see plenty of lust over the next few months.

“When you get right down to it, the man in the bespoke suit is no different from the guy on a construction site” Tiffany told her. “They all love to look.” Tiffany’s popularity was largely due to the fact that she had no compunction about being completely nude on stage.

Amanda appealed on a different level. Her dance training, distant now, still served her well. Her performances showcased her fluid grace, which translated into subtle eroticism. The club manager paid her the ultimate compliment when he told her that she had a growing following of men who came in specifically for her performances.

“By the way,” he said one night. “Mr. Reimer is coming in tonight. Apparently he’s heard about you.”

“Mr. Reimer? The owner?”

“Yes, but don’t let on I told you. He probably won’t stay long.”

He stayed until she finished dancing, watching her through hooded eyes and shrouded in smoke from long, thin cigarillos.

“Mr. Reimer would like you to join him.” The manager came into the dressing room. “What would you like to drink?”

Amanda glanced at the wall clock. “I have to get home...my grandmother...”

“Don’t blow this, Amanda.”

“Okay then, Champagne. And order me a cab. Tell them to wait outside and start the meter.”

* * *

Vince Reimer stood and pulled out a chair for Amanda. Soft music played in the background and the few patrons left were finishing their drinks. The manager rushed over with the champagne in an ice bucket and one glass. Vince raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything. He brushed the manager aside and poured for her.

“So what’s your story?” he asked, assessing her with eyes the colour of anthracite.

“My story?”

“Yes. Every girl who works in my clubs has a story. What’s yours?”

She looked at him evenly. He seemed to be toying with her, and she didn’t like it. She decided to be honest.

“My
story
, as you put it, is simple. I was cooking in your kitchen back there, but I needed more money. So now I dance.”

He pulled back and what passed for a smile touched his lips. “I see.”

“I’m not sure you do, but I have to go.” She stood. “I have to get home.”

He looked at her left hand. “Husband? Lover? Child?”

“None of the above. Thank you for the champagne.” She hadn’t touched the pale liquid.

She started to tremble as the cab pulled away. What had she done? She collapsed back against the seat. She’d find out soon enough. Tomorrow was Saturday, the busiest night of the week. If they were going to fire her, they’d do it tomorrow when the club closed.

Vince appeared the next night and every night the following week. On Saturday evening, a knock came on the dressing room door. She opened it, not surprised to find him standing there.

He inclined his head. “Miss Scott. Would you care to go out for lunch tomorrow?” He looked elegant standing there, overcoat thrown loosely over his shoulders.

She smiled. “Thank you, I would enjoy that.”

Over the next couple of months he became her new sounding board, listening intently as she spoke of her past, her hopes for her future, and her ongoing struggles to take care of her grandmother.

“I just worry that my child-bearing years will pass me by while I’m taking care of Gran” she said one day. “I’ve always wanted to have children.”

He picked up her hand and kissed it. “I’d like to help you with that.”

His meaning was clear; she blushed. “I’m flattered, but all my energies are taken up with Gran.”

He toyed with his cigarillo. The smell of them nauseated her, but she’d learned to hide that fact. “If you married me, I would arrange for full-time care for your grandmother. Then you’d be able to follow your dreams.”

As proposals went, it wasn’t much. As a matter of fact, it sounded more like a proposition, but she couldn’t deny that the idea of care for her grandmother was appealing. Her grandmother wouldn’t admit it, but Amanda was certain she’d had a few more small strokes. Her condition was deteriorating slowly; it was becoming clear that there wasn’t going to be a full recovery.

She studied him across the table. “Is that a proposal, Vince?” They hadn’t even slept together.

He raised his eyebrows. “I’m not a hearts and flowers kind of guy, but yes, that was a proposal.” He reached across the table and took her hand again. “We could be good together, Amanda.”

Amanda and Vince were married four weeks later. A quiet wedding in the chapel of a church on the North Shore was followed by a reception in Vince’s largest location, The Club on Broadway.

Looking back on that day now, all she could remember was that she felt like an outsider, watching herself from a distance. Gran had suffered another stroke and was unable to speak, let alone attend a wedding. The only guest Amanda could call a friend was Maxine from The Club on Main.

Maxine caught up with her in the ladies’ room. “You look lovely,” she said, admiring the simple white dress Amanda had chosen. “Where are you going to go on your honeymoon?”

Amanda didn’t try to hide her disappointment. “We’re going to Vince’s cottage. Remember I told you about it a few weeks ago?”

Maxine nodded. “Yes, you said it was nice up there.”

Amanda hesitated. “It is, but we’ve been there twice now and both times he’s gone off and left me.”

“What?”

“Yes.” It felt good to confide in someone. “These...these guys show up in a boat. He says he’s going fishing and he disappears for hours, but he never comes back with any fish.”

“And he’s taking you there on your honeymoon?”

“I’m just hoping that we’ll be alone this time. Have you ever noticed how he always seems to be surrounded by men who work for him? Even if they’re not with us, they’re somewhere nearby.”

Maxine held her by the shoulders. “Amanda, it’s not too late. If you don’t love him, don’t do this.” Her tone was urgent. “You have so much to give. Don’t waste your life on someone like Vince if you don’t love him.”

She pulled back. “What do you mean someone like Vince?”

A flicker of what looked like fear passed over Maxine’s face. “Nothing. I just want you to be happy, that’s all.”

Amanda forced a bright smile. “I will. Besides, look what he’s done for Gran. He has someone with her twenty four seven.”

Maxine opened her mouth to speak, then shut it again. She gave Amanda a fierce hug. “Be happy,” she murmured, then turned and left. Amanda wasn’t sure, but she thought she saw tears in her friend’s eyes.

* * *

At Vince’s insistence, Amanda had stopped dancing. Since he’d arranged care for Gran, there was little for her to do.

Ruby gave no indication that she understood when Amanda talked to her now, but she was becoming lonely and would often confide in her non-responsive grandmother. “The thing is Gran, he gives me wads of cash but that’s not what I want. I never thought I’d say this, but I even miss the people from the kitchen at the club. And he told me last night that he doesn’t want me associating with Maxine any more.” It was ten months since they’d been married. “I was hoping I’d get pregnant right away, but that’s not happening.”

* * *

“Why don’t you go to the golf club?” It was a rare evening when Vince didn’t go out and they were alone. “I do a lot of business there. You’re bound to meet some of the wives.” He opened his briefcase and took out a stack of hundreds. The band indicated that the stack contained ten thousand dollars. “Buy yourself a new wardrobe if it would make you more confident.”

“Vince! That’s a lot of cash to be carrying around.”

He puffed on his cigar and she tried not to gag. “There’s a lot more where that came from,” he said, smiling at her through a haze of smoke.

His response sounded like dialogue from an old movie. She almost laughed but the look in his eyes told her he was serious. “Okay,” she said hesitantly. “I’ll try that.”

Amanda’s attempts at socializing with the women at the golf club were a disaster. Fit and tanned, they moved with brisk, purposeful strides as they walked around the clubhouse. Their attire marked them as golfers and Amanda knew she stood out as a non-golfer. She could feel their eyes on her, and not in a kind way. Several times they stopped talking when she walked past. Her confidence crumbled.

“Pardon me, Mrs. Reimer.” A jacketed male server eyed her appreciatively. “Mrs. Henderson was wondering if you would like to join her for lunch.”

Amanda flushed and looked around. Was this some sort of joke? She quickly noted the server’s name. “Thank you Paul. That would be very nice.”

She was led to a table some distance away from the chattering women golfers. An elderly woman watched her approach.

“Thank you Paul” she said as Amanda sat down. She jiggled an empty glass. “Another G&T please.” She turned to Amanda. “What about you, my dear. What will you have?”

“A glass of white wine, please.” The server left and she smiled at the other woman. “Thank you for inviting me to sit. I had decided that if I didn’t meet anyone today I’d stop coming.”

“Then I’m glad I asked you.” The woman held out her hand. “Agnes Henderson.”

The woman’s handshake was firm and Amanda took an instant liking to her. A cluster of diamond rings competed for space on her ring finger. The ones that hadn’t made the cut were relegated to her other fingers. The stones could probably be seen from space.

Agnes nodded toward the group of golfers. “So. They’re freezing you out, are they?”

“Well...” Amanda didn’t know how to respond.

“Never mind, I know how they work.” She leaned forward. “They’re jealous, my dear. That’s all, they’re jealous.” Agnes sent a scathing look in the direction of the women. “If you really want them as friends, you could ask your husband to speak to their husbands.”