"Does she know where you are right now?"


"No. I assume you told Montana to keep her busy."

"I did. But Montana's gonna run out of shit to show her."

"Okay. Get off me. I can't get dressed with your sexy self all over my cock." She giggled and flipped her leg over, standing up and walking over to her panties, soiled and wet on the floor.

"Goddamn you Brad, my panties are soaked. I'm gonna have to change."

"Go pick something new out, tell Janine to charge it to me." He pulled up his pants and buckled the belt, walking over to the window and looking out of it, leaning against the glass with one arm. "How's business?"

She fixed herself in a small mirror hung on the wall. "It's good. Been really busy lately. Lunches are picking up and we're starting to stay busy till at least 5am most nights."

"You working lunches?"

"Only when money's tight. I got a new car, the payments are a bitch, so I've been picking up extra shifts. All the more reason I need you and little miss daisy out there to stay away from each other."

"Why are you so worried about her? You've never cared about anyone else I've ever brought here."

"She's different than any other girl you've ever brought here."

Brad folded his arms and looked at her. "I don't pay you your salary to f**k me."

"I know. But that doesn't mean that my job security won’t change if there is a Missus in the picture." He walked over and placed his hands on her shoulders, looking at her in the mirror and nuzzling her neck.

"Stop worrying baby. You know me. I'm a bad egg. No women worth her salt will keep me around."

She spun and grabbed his neck, pretending to throttle him with frustration. "Good point. What was I thinking?"

---

Montana and I made it back down the stairwell without turning an ankle, and took a back hallway to a door labeled “Dressing Room.” Montana reached down to a keypad and entered a four-digit code. There was an electronic click and then the door opened.

“For security,” she said, glancing at me. The dressing room was big, much bigger than I would have expected. There were 20 or 30 lockers against two opposing walls - the size of lockers that you see NFL athletes having on ESPN. One locker was open and I could see three levels of hanging clothes, a few cubbies for shoes, and a second locked area where they probably kept cash.

The center of the room held a long, double-sided counter with mirrors on both sides, and rows of lights across the top. Not the big round bulbs I would have guessed, but thin LED lights. Montana saw me looking, and walked over to one of the seats.

“This lighting system is so cool,” she gushed. You can push these buttons and change the color of the lighting - since the Club is sometimes lit in blue or black light, you can adjust these lights to match the Club - that way your makeup doesn’t come out looking scary.” She pushed a few buttons, and the colors changed. It was pretty damn cool.

“Hey M - Stop that!” A bleach blond girl wearing a leopard print teddy, sitting a few seats down, paused in her mascara application to glare at Montana.

“Oh chill, Heather. I’m just showing her how it works.” Montana retorted.

“Why’s she back here anyway? You know you’re not supposed to bring anyone here.” I shifted nervously, not wanting to get involved in a catfight with these two.

“I’m ABOUT to talk to Sandra about it. Why don’t you mind your own business, since you don’t even know what you’re talking about!” Montana made a bitchy face at Heather and grabbed my hand, pulling me to the door we had just come through. Other than Heather, the rest of the room was empty; most of the girls probably out on the floor.

We exited back into the hall and I breathed a little easier. I hate confrontation. “God, she is bitchy today,” Montana said, our heel clicks echoing in the empty hall.

“Are you going to get in trouble for taking me there?”

She laughed. “No way! I would have talked to Sandra - she’s our house mom - but she wasn’t in there, and it doesn’t matter. We’re good sweetie.” Still holding my hand, she gave it a squeeze and smiled at me.

Two minutes later, we were back into the glitter and glam of the club. We headed for our table, but it was empty. I looked around, unsure, but Montana flopped down without hesitation. "Sit," she said, patting the empty seat across from her.

"Where's Brad?" I asked loudly, leaning close so that she could hear me over the noise of the Club.

She shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe the bathroom, or talking to Janine."

"Who's Janine?"

"You know, the manager. Brad likes to talk business with her whenever he comes."

I felt neglected and pissed. Pissed that I was alone in the club with a stripper named after a state, and pissed that I even cared that Brad wasn't sitting here. I was in VEGAS, here on someone else's dime, I had almost five grand in cash back at the hotel, and I'd had an amazing trip so far. What did I have to be pissed at?

"Montana?” I leaned forward and put a hand on her shoulder. “I want to get trashed. Think you can help with that?"

Her eyes lit up and she gripped my arm excitedly. "Baby, I can definitely help with that." She looked around a minute, then hopped to her feet. "I'll be right back." She walked over to a tall, suited woman with professional hair and a discreet earpiece. I saw Montana point to me, and then make a bunch of hand gestures, explaining something to the woman. After a moment, the woman nodded and then pointed to her watch. Montana gave her a hug and then bounded back to me. This girl was femininity on crack.

"Okay, we are good to go. I had to get permission from Janine."

"For me to drink?"

Montana rolled her eyes dramatically. "Not for YOU silly - for me! It's no fun to drink alone!" She waved down a drink girl and ordered four tequila shots. My stomach flipped at the thought of multiple tequila shots, but I wasn't about to reinforce her impression of my good girl status. I looked around, but still didn't see Brad, and he obviously wasn't with Janine.

"So where's the VIP room?"

"We don't have one anymore. When the Club first started, there was a separate room upstairs, but the guys all seemed to think that you entered the VIP room and anything went. So now there is just an upper layer of tables. You can't see them from here, but they are above us, on the outside edges of the room. They can see the stage but have a little more privacy."

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