My Stripper Mate

Chapter 2

Trigger Warning: this chapter talks of suicide.

I pushed open the doors to the club and stepped foot inside. The musty stench of too many people in a confined space filled my nose.

"Hey, Adi!" I looked over the bar in response. One of my co workers stood waving me to the back. I followed her calls and we walked side by side to the boss' office. I quickly thanked her and stepped in. The office wasn't large and it certainly wasn't a typical corner office. The club rested underground, so concrete walls boxed us in. He had clearly attempted to hang posters and pictures to cover the dull concrete. My boss looked up from his laptop and motioned for me to have a seat. I followed his demands and made my way to the front of his desk.

"What's up Scott?" I questioned before plopping myself down into the not so comfortable chair. I felt a spring beneath me jolt, pinching me slightly. Moving swiftly in desperation to get away. Scott made eye contact at just that moment, his eyebrow lifted on one side and the smirk soon followed.

"You okay?" He questioned humorously. I scoffed in response and sat on the end of the chair.

"I'm fine. What did you want to talk about?" I questioned. He stood from his chair, that I couldn't imagine being more comfortable than mine, and made his way around the desk.

"I was just thinking, I know you're looking for another job at the moment, and I have the perfect one for you." He slipped around the desk and sat on the front of his desk. He sat uncomfortably close to me, and I realized that this whole exchange was uncomfortable.

"Okay, what do you have in mind?" I questioned.

"Candy quit on me this morning." He stated dully. "I need a new dancer."

"Scott-," I sighed, but before I could say more he interrupted me.

"Look, Adelaide, I know when I hired you on you were strictly against becoming a dancer, but you would make a great one. I already get a lot of attraction because you bartend, imagine if you danced. I can increase your pay. I'll triple what you're making now." He bargained, and honestly it was working. Tripling what I was currently making would give me enough money to move far far away from this place one day. I could get an apartment closer to work within months of my pay raise, and eventually after saving more and more I could finally move away.

"I know you're stubborn, but I promise no one will touch you-," He continued his rant. I held up a hand to stop his words.

"I'll do it."

I stepped out of the back room after changing into my work clothes. Making my way back behind the bar, I became reacquainted with the bottles and glasses. I truly loved this job it was a stress reliever. My eyes gaged the room. Men and a couple women stood at the stage waiting for the next 'dancer' to make her appearance. Moving my gaze around the room I gazed across the bar. Most people already had a drink in hang, but when my eyes landed on one man I moved my way towards him.

"What can I get you, sir?" I asked the man at the end of the bar.

"The strongest thing behind that counter." He said while holding his head in his hands.

"Rough day?" I asked. Who said the bartender couldn't be a therapist as well. I had problems of my own maybe I could help him as well.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that." He said making eye contact with me. A weird feeling filled my stomach. I wasn't attracted to him despite his good looks, but I wanted to help him.

" Want to talk about it?" I asked while mixing his drink.

"Kind of," He chuckled to himself, probably wondering why he was trusting me. I handed him his drink and he finished it in one gulp then handed it back asking for another. "Well, my girlfriend walked out on me today. I mean she was being rebellious and she was really pissed. I tried to talk to her, but she stormed out. I went out looking for her and turns out she got a fucking tattoo. Who does that?" He said before taking the next shot. I chuckled and looked down at the couple visible tattoos I had.