Yeah, that’s gonna go over well.
Wait, what? Since when do I care what kind of impression I make on a girl’s parents? Like I ever had a chance with Tiffy. She’s smart, rich, beautiful. And she wants Cole. She hired me to get Cole. And yeah, I can tempt her all I want with lap dances. But the fact is, I’m not the guy who gets a girl like her. She’s a one-night stand if ever there was one. And our one night was up a few days ago.
So fuck it. I might as well do my job and do it well.
I go into my dressing room and push the costumes around. Saturdays are a little more wild than Wednesdays. For one, we sell more tickets. We take out some tables and put in cheap seats. There will be a few hundred more people in there tonight. So we do it right. And the new routine we came up with is the first act.
I’m not gonna waste any more time thinking about Tiffy. I’m just gonna go out there first thing and find me a girl to erase this shitty life I’ve set up for myself. Erase all the shit that’s piling up. Forget that my job is hanging by a thread. Forget that people are depending on me. Forget my fucking brother came back to town on the one day I wish he’d just drop dead.
Forget all that shit.
I go back out into the common room where all the guys hang out and do my thing. “What’s Sexy Man have to say this week?”
Mitch throws the weekly tabloid at me and hits me in the chest. “We laughed about it yesterday, asshole. You’ve just been too caught up in the boss’ daughter to even remember we exist.”
“Yeah, well. She’s been trying to fire me all week. What was I supposed to do? Let her get rid of me?”
“You should read it,” Steve says, pointing to the magazine. “It’s got you written all over that shit. We laughed so hard last night in the bar.”
I grin and open the trashy paper to the weekly columns and start reading.
Dear Sexy Man,
I got a problem. A girl showed up who’s way above my league and I fucked her blind in my office. The problem is, she’s my boss. And now she wants more and I just don’t know how to tell her to get lost without losing my job. Help!
Signed,
Cock on the Clock
I let out a laugh. God, this shit is priceless.
Dear Cock on the Clock,
Never, ever, fuck the boss, son. You have two choices. Marry the bitch or quit your job and move on. Boss bitches never get over it. So declare your independence and fly free, young man. Learn your lesson well. It’s a memory for the books, that’s for sure. There’s nothing better than getting off with a woman who’s forbidden. But the cock gods demand to be paid. So next time you’re tempted to fuck where you work, ask yourself, ‘Is this the girl I want to marry?’ And if not, then tuck that cock back in your pants and move on.
Love ya,
Sexy Man
“Classic shit,” Bill says, grabbing it out of my hand. “You know, Sexy Man was getting lame there for a while. Talking all serious. I was beginning to think he was gonna pussy out and say he’s in love, that’s how boring it got.”
“He’s still funny,” I say. “He’s just been doing this for a while, that’s all. You run out of things to say.”
“He gets letters, dumbass,” Sean says. “All he’s gotta do is pick the funny shit. Hell, I’ve sent in a few and he never picks my stuff. And it’s good, man.”
“Like hell. You’re as dumb as a hammer,” Mitch says. “You couldn’t write something funny if your life was on the line. Fletcher, now he’s funny. You ever send a letter into Sexy Man, Fletch?”
“Never,” I say. “The last thing I want is to spend my free time thinking about that stupid column.”
“I still think it’s funny,” Steve says, pulling on his cowboy boots. “Where’s your costume, Fletch?” he asks, eyeing my regular boots.
“I’ve got five minutes, Steve. What’s the rush?”
“Get a move on, Fletcher,” Chandler says, slamming the door behind him. “If you’re back, then be back. Not that you’ve even been here the last few days. You missed three practices this week.”
“Corporate, man. Blame them for that shit.”
“They wouldn’t even be here if you weren’t fucking off.”
“Well, I have a feeling my days are numbered. Mr. Preston is gonna be here tonight and I’m pretty sure this is not his idea of a good marketing plan. I’ve also heard that there’s some big shots in the online booking world coming to rate the place. I can only imagine the look on Preston’s face when he realized his only shot at this opportunity hinges on six guys taking off their clothes.”
“I think he knows we’re his money-makers, Fletch,” Chandlers says. “I’ve talked to him about it. He just said keep it clean.”
“Keep what clean?” Mitch asks. He sounds as annoyed as I feel.
“Yeah,” Steve says. “We don’t do clean. Those women don’t want clean. They want dirty as fuck. I’m not giving up a whole night’s worth of tips to keep that asshole happy. Especially if he’s just looking for a reason to shut this show down.”
“Calm down,” Chandler says. “It’s one night.”
“One night is nothing to you, I guess,” Sean says. “I’ve got bills to pay. And I count on tips to make that happen. It’s not like we’re raking in the cash with this gig. It’s Tahoe, for fuck’s sake. Not Vegas.”
“Listen,” Chandler says, clearly getting pissed off. “If you want to keep this job, then do what I say. Preston wants a clean show. It’s his fucking hotel.”
“It’s not his hotel, actually.”
“What?”
They all turn to look at me and I’m sorry I mentioned it. But once you say it, you gotta explain. These guys won’t let me off that easy.
“It’s Tiffy Preston’s hotel. Her old man doesn’t own it. She does. And I’m pretty sure she wants to get a good rating. And the way we do that is to do the best show ever. That’s not pulling punches. That’s making those women scream our names, cover their mouths from embarrassment, and tell all their friends this was worth every penny. With any luck, the reviewer will be a woman.”
“Don’t even, Novak.” He walks over to me and stares me in the eyes. “I’m telling you all right now, we’re gonna clean it up and do as we’re told.”
I stare back at him, my fists clenching right along with my jaw.
“You got it?”
“I got it,” I snarl. “You have another job waiting, so you could give a fuck if we fail.”
He pushes me hard in the chest and I have to take a few steps back. “Fuck you, Fletcher. You’re the problem here, not me. You’re the one they want to get rid of, not me.”
“I quit yesterday, asshole. And I’m the one who’s still here. So I’m obviously not that expendable.”
“Wait,” Sean says. “What does he mean you’ve got another job?”
“His pussy-whipped ass took a job in Reno because his girlfriend was bitching and moaning about the show. Didn’t he tell you?”
I know he didn’t. It was between us. But I know my time here is just about over. So fuck it. Chandler isn’t gonna pull rank and act like he cares what happens to this show. Not after all that’s happened this week.
“Is that true?” Mitch asks. “You’re bailing and you want us to basically throw the fight so you can… what? Get a severance bonus if the hotel gets a good ranking?”
Chandler stares at me with squinted eyes. I crossed a line with him. It was a secret. And he’s got plenty of secrets of mine too, so I should’ve been respectful of his. But the last man standing doesn’t get there by being a pussy. “Tell them, Chandler.”