Fighting Dirty - Sidney Halston Page 0,100

had seen a flyer about an opening for a bartender at Ruby’s that paid double what she made now, which meant she could quit one of her jobs and spend more time with Sarabelle. The problem was that Ruby’s was a strip club and even though she wouldn’t be stripping, the thought of working there, after her highly sheltered, highly religious, and highly judgmental upbringing, made her feel like a failure.

Working at a strip club had never been the plan. In fact, it had been ingrained into her that things like strip clubs, which created “lustful” thoughts, were mortal sins and that strippers were the devil incarnate, luring men to make poor choices. In the last two years she’d realized how much of her upbringing had been based on hypocrisy and how clueless she’d really been, having been raised in a little bubble.

But even with all these eye-opening experiences, she still knew that she had been naïve to think she could survive all on her own when she’d never lifted one single finger in her twenty-one years of life. Heck, she’d never even washed clothes before Sarabelle was born. She was in way over her head and the fact that she was even entertaining working at Ruby’s was a clear indication. Penny braced herself, prepared to see naked women gyrating in the seedy club as men groped them. She expected drugs to be snorted on tabletops, liquor being poured and drunk off naked bodies, and sex to be had everywhere. The only man she’d ever seen naked was Lawrence, and that had been one time and it had been fast and painful and had resulted in Sarabelle. Regardless, Penny braced herself and opened the door.

And, bam!

“Oh, shit!” A woman shrieked as red liquid poured down the front of Penny’s white oxford shirt. “You okay?” the woman asked.

Penny looked down at her wet and stained shirt but instead saw two round globes still pressed smack-dab against her own breasts. The woman backed away and patted Penny’s chest with a napkin. “Sorry, sorry.” She continued to fondle Penny’s chest and then began wiping her own bare breasts. Flustered and embarrassed, Penny stepped back from the topless woman holding a now-empty glass and tray.

“Hey, it’s cool. I’m sure it’ll come right out. Don’t think it’ll stain, do you?” The woman seemed genuine in her concern and went to reach for Penny again in an effort to assist the already mortifying situation but Penny held out her hands to stop her. She looked around quickly; the place wasn’t at all what she’d imagined. It was dark but not seedy. Not smoky. There were groups of men having drinks in leather booths and there wasn’t so much a stage as various small stages with poles where women were dancing and chatting with the men who sat close by. The waitresses, such as the poor woman currently apologizing to her, were topless, but the bartenders at the big modern-looking bar a few feet away, were dressed. Scantily, but not nude—just as the ad for the job had said.

“Honey? You listening? Hello?” The woman snapped her fingers in an effort to get Penny’s attention. “Your shirt? You think it’ll come out?”

Penny shook her head to get her thoughts in order, then looked down at her chest. “Uh…yes, I’m fine.” Penny took the napkin from the woman’s hand and patted her drenched top.

“You okay? You lost or somethin’?”

“Yeah…no. I mean…” She really didn’t belong in a place like this. She had on pearls, for goodness sakes. Her oxford was buttoned almost all the way up, she had decided on modern slim-cut black slacks—it was, after all, a job search—and the plaid headband on her head holding her hair away from her face in a perfectly smooth coif definitely made her stand out. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, she held out the flyer to the woman.

“Joe!” She yelled over her shoulder. “You need to see Joe,” she said to Penny. “Joe!” She yelled again. A man, presumably Joe, leisurely walked toward Penny. He had a shaved head and tattoos that went up both arms, disappeared underneath the tight fitting black T-shirt with the Ruby’s logo, and then crept up his neck. He had gages in both ears, pierced eyebrow and lips. If he didn’t have a big toothy, dimpled smile, she’d have turned around and run away.

“Did Darlene spill a drink on you?” He asked, shaking his head almost as if he was upset, but by the adoring look he gave