Chasing Dreams

chapter two

Ivy looked at her reflection in the full-length mirror. She couldn’t believe it was really her. She had gotten a job as a server at a place called the Midnight Lounge. The manager told her to put on a white lacy bra and matching thong, a pair of thigh high attached to garters.

“Are you sure we’re supposed to wear this?” she asked one of the other servers.

The girl just nodded her head adjusting the black thigh highs she was wearing. “You’re tailing me tonight,” she finally said. “I’m Sabrina.”

“I…Ivy,” she said, taking another look at herself before following her out front .

What is this place?

Ivy’s eyes went wide when they stepped out front. There were beds in the far corners of the massive club. She could see naked people laying in the beds in positions she had never seen before. Her hand flew to her mouth the instant she realized what this place was. She was working at a s*x club.

She was about to turn and leave thinking a place like this wouldn’t be worth it. When Sabrina said, “Wow. This placed in pack. Tips should be good tonight.”

“How much can you make in tips in one night?” Ivy asked now curious.

“I’ve made at least 2k on a night like this.”

Ivy’s mouth fell wide open. She never made that much back the Ramblin’ Rose. She was lucky if she even made a hundred in one night. She knew she should probably quit but that much money was too hard to pass up.

“What do I do first?” she asked.

As the night went on Ivy found that it wasn’t really that bad. All she had to do was take orders of what drinks people wanted, remembering them was easy, she wrote it down on a piece of paper. The customers were mostly respectful. There were a few that got a little handsy, but the bouncers always kicked them out.

Sabrina was right, the tips she made that night was enough for her next months rent and then some. This wasn’t her dream job, to say the least some of the things she saw freaked her out. But it would allow her to keep her apartment at least until she could figure things out.

“Wanna grab some coffee?” Sabrina asked after there shift was over. “There a dinner that a lot of go to after work.”

“Sure,” Ivy said, slipping her denim jacket on.

The dinner was actually not far from Ivy’s building. “So,” one of the other girls asked Ivy when they were drinking there coffee. “Where are you from?”

“Snow’s Corner,” Ivy said, glancing out the window remembering the town she hated.

“Where’s that?” another one asked.

“Missouri,” Ivy said giggling, turning back to look at them. “It’s just a place in the road near the Mississippi River. Nothing to see. Nothing to do.”

There was nothing in Snow’s Corner. It was so small there wasn’t a downtown, there wasn’t even a Main Street. Just the main highway that consisted of Millie’s Café, the post office s***h general store and Bubba’s Filling Station and Garage. There was also the volunteer fire station s***h community center.

“What made you move to Chicago?” Sabrina asked.

“I wanted to work for Style. I even interviewed for the new assistant position. But since I didn’t have a resume, she wouldn’t even see me.”

“I heard that Mrs. Cameron is awful to work for,” one of the other girls stated. “Is this your first job in Chicago?” she asked Ivy.

“I worked one night for Divine Catering,” Ivy said, turning to stare back out the window. “But I didn’t really know the drinks because at the Ramblin’ Rose they definitely did not have those drinks. Then some woman name Mrs. Carson demanded I get fired. I think it had do some with some guy named Vincent.”

When she turned back to look at the others. They were all staring at her silently telling her for more details. Ivy happily obliged all the details of what she saw in the elevator that night. The sun was coming up over the horizon when Ivy finally crawled into bed.

She had the other girls spent most of the night talking at the dinner. They shared tips on working at the Midnight Lounge. All the trendiest spots in the city where to meet the cutest guys at. For the first time since moving here. She finally felt like things might finally turning around.

Tonight was like any other night at the Midnight Lounge. Ivy had been working there for two weeks. She worked three nights a week and alternated the weekends with the other girls. This happened to be the weekend she worked.

She groaned when she saw one the most handsy customers sitting at her table. He was so bad, none of the girls wanted to serve him. He never sat at their table, he always chose Ivy’s. “Diego,” she said to one of the bouncer. “Stay close.”

“Got it,” he said when he saw what Ivy was talking about.

Ivy plastered on her sincerest smile as she walked towards the table. “What can I get you?” she asked.

“You on my lap,” he said. A big stupid lopsided grin on his face.

“You know servers aren’t allowed to mingle with the customers,” Ivy quickly reminded him.

“I won’t tell if you drop down under the table and put those lips on my aching balls,” he said, giving her a wink.

“What would you like to drink?” she asked, trying her best to be professional when she really wanted to punch him in the balls.

“Why you being a b***h?” he asked, his voice suddenly dangerous, grabbing Ivy’s wrist and pulling her to him.

“Diego!” she shouted when the guy kiss her neck.

“All right, Arnie,” Diego said, coming to her rescue, yanking the guy up by the back of his shirt. “Out you go,” he told him dragging him towards the door.

“You will pay for this you little b***h,” Arnie yelled.

Ivy felt a cold chill down her spine. She saw nothing but pure evil in the man’s eyes. “I’m fine,” she reassured Sabrina when she told her to take a break.

“You sure,” she said. “Because if not---I really want the customer at your table. He’s hot,” she said, throwing her head back to gawk at the man.

Ivy stopped dead in her tracks when she saw who it was. It was the guy Vincent from the night she got fired and she remembered he was the gorgeous man in the elevator when she didn’t get hired at Style. For a split second she thought about giving him to Sabrina. Then she remembered what the girls said her first night here, on how to get really good tips out of the customers. You weren’t allowed to mingle with them, but you could do a little flirting.

She squared her shoulders, sashaying over to him. She was going to get a big tip from him. His whatever in the elevator was partially why she got fired. He owed her the money she would have made from that job.

The look on his face when she asked, “What can I get you?” was at least worth a hundred bucks easy.

“I…Ivy,” his usually cool, smooth velvety voice stuttered. “W…What are you doing here?”

“I work here.”

Vincent felt his c**k press against his zipper seeing Ivy in the skimpy white bra and thong. He tired to speak but all he could do was clear his throat. He nodded his head when she asked him if he needed some water. That was a mistake because watching her walk away sent the image of her bent over, and him slamming into her from behind over and over, sent his pulse racing.

“s**t,” he cursed, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, trying to block the image before he did something they both regret.

He opened his eyes when he heard her say here, slamming the glass of water down on the table. Apparently, she was angry with him about that night. He couldn’t really blame her, she had every right to be angry with him. A small smile crept across his face taking a sip of the water. If this is my punishment for that night. I will gladly take it like a man.

“I tired getting your job back,” he told her when he set the glass down on the table. The owner of the catering company was so afraid that Elle would find out that she refused even after he explained what happened. “I feel really bad about what happened. I haven’t stopped thinking about you.” Since that night he hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind.

“T…Thank you,” Ivy said. She couldn’t believe a guy like that would try and get her job back for her.

“It’s the least I could do,” he offered.

Ivy felt bad for thinking that she wasn’t surprised that a guy like him was in a place like this. “What can I get you, Vincent?” she asked, a big smile on her face.

“You can tell me why you are working in a place like this?” he asked, splaying his arms across the back of the leather booth. He didn’t know why but he didn’t like the idea of her working in a place like this.

“I need a job,” Ivy snapped. “And I don’t see how that is any of your business,” she added, folding her arms across her chest.

“You’re right. It isn’t any of my business.,” Vincent said, trying keep his focus on her eyes and not her breast that were peeking out from under her folded arms.

“Look—do you want a drink or something?” she asked, getting annoyed waiting for him to tell her what he wanted. “I do have other customers.”

“Can I take you to dinner?” Vincent asked her. He didn’t know why but he wanted to see her again.

Ivy felt heat rushing to her cheeks. She couldn’t believe he was hitting on her. “W…We were not supposed to mingle with the customers,” she whispered, lowering her head.

“I know,” Vincent said. His normally smooth, velvety voice low and husky. “I meant outside of here,” he added, reaching for her hand.

“I don’t think your girlfriend would appreciate it,” Ivy snapped, pulling her hand away from his grip.

“Who?” Vincent asked, realizing that she was referring to Elle. “Elle isn’t my girlfriend,” he told her.

“Tell her that,” Ivy said, turning away from him.

Vincent watched her retreat, frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior. The din of the bar seemed to close in, laughter and clinking glasses a distant haze compared to the thundering in his chest. He hadn’t expected her to brush him off so quickly, and yet, the challenge in her tone only made him want to try harder.

“Ivy,” he called, his voice just loud enough for her to hear as she reached the end of the booth. She paused, her back still to him, shoulders tensed. “I meant what I said. Just dinner. No strings.”

For a moment, she didn’t move. Then, slowly, Ivy glanced over her shoulder, skepticism flickering across her features. “People like you don’t just want dinner,” she replied, her words soft but edged with iron.

Vincent gave a half-smile, leaning forward, his elbows on the table. “Maybe. But what if tonight, I do?” He studied her, his gaze steady and unguarded.

She hesitated, caught between the impulse to walk away and something else—something less certain. “Just… order your drink, Vincent,” Ivy managed, her voice wavering for the briefest second.

“What if I don’t want a drink,” Vincent teased, splaying his arms across the leather seats. His dark brown full of desire. “What if what I want is you?” He knew he shouldn’t go down this road with her. If someone heard him talking like that to her, she could get into trouble or fired. But damn if her in that outfit wasn’t making it impossible.

“Are you trying to get me fired?” Ivy asked, anger evident in her voice.

Before Ivy could respond her boss yelled at her from his office. Great, Ivy thought, making her way towards the back. “Y…Yes, sir,” she whispered. The look on his face told her she was in trouble.

“I’m sorry, Ivy…but you know the rules. No, flirting with the customers,” he stated. His half-smoked cigar dangling from his lips.

“But I…I…yes, sir,” she said. She knew there was no point in arguing with him.

She was glad the dressing room was empty when she changed into her street clothes. She was so angry she couldn’t see straight. She had once again got fired because of Vincent whoever. She might not know what was next. One thing was for certain she never wanted to see the man named Vincent again.

Normally, she took a cab or an Uber home. Tonight, she decided to walk, she was hoping the cool night air would calm her down. On her walk back she decided she needed to change direction in her job search. Instead of looking for bartending jobs or waitressing jobs, maybe she needed to find jobs where she could work her way up to a better position.

She was starting to calm down, feeling like she had a solid plan, when she heard that all too familiar voice. She turned to see Vincent pulling up alongside her in a very expensive car. “Why the hell do you hate me?” The anger from earlier surfacing.

“What happened?” he asked, stepping out of the car. Ivy wasn’t sure if the concern in his voice was genuine or not.

“I got fired. That’s what!”

“s**t, Ivy,” Vincent murmured. His fingers running through his slick backed hair. When she didn’t return, he got concerned. “I’m sorry,” he apologized, trying to reach for her.

“I don’t want your concern,” Ivy said, sidestepping his grasp. “I want you to leave me the hell alone. That’s the second job I got fired from because of you,” she snapped. She didn’t was his stupid apology, she wanted to never see him again.

She took off running down the street, ignoring his desperate pleas for her to come back. There was an El station just around the corner. She decided to take it the rest of the way home. The last thing she wanted or needed was taking the chance he would follow her.

“Damn,” Vincent mutter in frustration, watching Ivy disappear around the corner. Once again because he couldn’t leave her alone, she had gotten fired.

Climbing back inside his car, Vincent couldn’t understand why every time he saw her, he didn’t think straight. Tonight, he knew exactly why he didn’t think straight. He wasn’t thinking with his head, he was thinking with his balls. Ivy wearing barely anything was what got him in to trouble.

He headed back to the penthouse knowing he was going to need a cold shower. But in the back of his head, he had the feeling it wouldn’t help. Something else was brewing inside him, something he couldn’t explain. Whatever it was it had everything to do with Ivy and staying away from her wasn’t an option.