Ding!
She heard the text tone on her phone, and her heart nearly leapt out of her chest, but frowned once she looked at it.
Ugh.
She couldn't help the sound of disappointment that came out of her.
Another birthday wish from her subscriptions.
Like, she gets it.
She's older now, than she was last year. Big deal.
She scrolled through her texts, leaving trails of overdue bills in her wake.
When will it end?
Until she dies?
Just like that, penniless... just like her Dad and Mom. What does that say about her?
Poor, that's for sure.
"Yo, dinosaur!"
She heard a happy voice behind her. She didn't have to look at her smirk to be annoyed.
Melanie.
She was the girl who had been after her job since the day she arrived.
She turned with a tight smile on her face. "Oh, but that's not my name here."
"My bad… my bad. It's just that you're so old, and bad for business," Melanie argued in her sweet tone.
Before she could reply, their manager, Paul, walked into the dressing room. Mad as hell.
"Vanessa? It's your time to shine now… Make them drop every penny." He said then awkwardly scratched the back of his head.
She knew the look.
"No requests for me, huh?" she asked as she stood, already dolled up, ready to break the rest of her old bones.
She needed the tips, and she needed them fast.
Paul just shook his head, but Vanessa was already on the stage, and the crowd was bored to see her.
She said a quick prayer to any saints who were listening.
"I can't be evicted today. Please."
She then gestured for the DJ to start her playlist.
She was in her early twenties when she started that work . A vibrant, optimistic, talented girl…
She wasn't her anymore.
She was tired now.
Her body ache, and her spirit had dumped her.
But she loved the stage.
It wasn't even the thrill of getting money from strangers, but the freedom she got when she felt the music thrusting deep inside her veins, coaxing her to make a move, pushing her to let it all out...
To be free.
That wasn't just a pole that she was sliding up and down on.
It was her anchor, a necessity so she wouldn't fall into the abyss and get lost.
She could feel the disco lights blinding her. She embraced the pain. She lived for it because she didn't want to see her audience.
She just wanted to see herself from the inside.
And she was a hell of amazing.
Going fast, coming slow, pause for tension and let it drop… That was her secret step routine.
It was hard, dancing for people who didn't care, but she was used to it.
At least now, she could focus on the music and not some nasty drunk in a war with personal hygiene.
But that day was different.
She made eye contact with a man.
A serious man.
She could tell that he wanted her, and he wanted her bad, which was good, because she didn't have a salary.
She earned through tips, and sleeping with customers.
The man looked important, decisive… very wealthy. And judging from experience?
A good lay.
She decided to put on her best show that night so that the man would ask her for a lap dance.
But he didn't.
So she guessed that he had only went there to watch.
Still, she gave it her all, she even got lost in the music and when she opened her eyes again?
He was gone.
Her playlist ended.
She bowed down to scattered applause and returned to the dressing room.
Paul was there, blushing as usual.
He had a thing for her, and she had a thing for money, and he was... Still finding himself.
So, she never gave him a chance.
He opened his mouth and then closed it, breathing hard before he spoke again.
"That was... heavenly."
Vanessa smiled at him brightly as she tossed out her thong and reached for her towel, giving him a full view of her well-groomed privates.
"Thank you, Paul. I aim to tease," she said as she went to take a shower, and that's when life usually caught up with her.
She still didn't have any money that day.
She was going to be evicted, and there was nothing she could do.
She was already expecting a rogue teenager who had escaped from her dad…
What would she tell Rebecca now?
I can't help your kid, Rebs… I need help too, her inner voice suggested, and she shook her head slightly.
She was going to find a way.
She always finds... a way.
She shut off the shower, dried herself, got to her locker, only to find the mystery man standing before her.
With his sharp black suit, gray tie, and intense eyes.
"Vanessa Holmes?" the man drawled her name, and she nearly came from the voice alone. His voice was deep, gruff, but had a touch of softness.
She steadied her quickened pulse before nodding. "I thought you left."
He smiled at her. It was brief, and it didn't even reach his eyes, but Vanessa felt warm inside.
He stood up straight and walked toward her, bending slightly so he could whisper,
"And leave you behind? I'm not that crazy."
She bit her bottom lip. "So you are crazy!"
She jabbed at his chest and he simply smiled at her.
Then he added, putting some distance between them,
"You craving anything tonight? My treat."
Vanessa frowned, puzzled. "Are you asking me out?"
He gave a shy smile. "With your permission, that is."
Vanessa was speechless.
This never happens.
You don't meet good boys in bad places.
And you definitely don't get asked out on a date by cute, wealthy, young guys.
Instead of blowing them and maybe having a quickie in a restroom somewhere.
She gaped at him until he grew uneasy.
He shoved his hands deep inside his pants. "I swear, I don't mean any harm. I just want to get to know you better."
Vanessa was skeptical now. "Why?" She sighed, shaking her head. "Look, I may be forty, but I've never been pregnant. I'm not your mother, boy."
That seemed to confuse him somehow.
"You're forty?"
Vanessa blushed, holding onto her towel. "And I have a very busy night ahead of me, so…"
She disregarded the stranger as she took out her clothes and started to wear them right in front of him.
"You must have paid good money to have this locker to yourself," Vanessa observed.
He tilted his head so she could see his hooded, lusty eyes. "But I'm not alone."
As she went to grab her sweater, she paused.
"What's your deal here? You like them old?"
"I like them hot," he countered.
Vanessa blinked.
"Sorry," she said once she recovered, "tonight, I'm booked. How about tomorrow?"
"I'll be out of the country," he replied slowly, frowning. "How about next week?"
"Well, you know where I work," Vanessa said as she opened the door to leave.
"I'm Anthony, by the way," he called out to her, and she smiled with a salute.
"Vanessa."
"I'll be here next week!" he called out to her fading figure.
"I won't be waiting."
And then she was gone.