Between Witches and Wolves

Chapter 4: The Strip Club

Ellie

Before I know it, Saturday is here.

I barely stayed awake during my GED classes on Monday and Tuesday, especially since I took that damn remedy and couldn’t hear my wolf. She would usually try to keep me awake.

I really need more sleep.

Tony called me in early Wednesday and Thursday for the lunch rush, too.

Fucking cheap-ass.

If he would just hire one or two more waitresses, I could actually just come in for my shift. But I can’t complain too much. Without the extra hours, I may not be able to afford my rent.

Rent alone is three hundred dollars. Plus, with the lights, water, and groceries, I barely have enough to cover it. Tony’s sorry ass only pays waitresses four dollars an hour. If we want to make more money, tips are the way to go.

But to get tips, you have to show more and be willing to flirt or sit on a customer’s lap.

I’ll be damned if I ever sink that low.

Currently, it’s 2 p.m., and I just woke up from a nap after getting home from buying groceries. I really do need to try to eat more.

With that in mind, I start preparing a bowl of cereal. Not the healthiest choice, but one I can afford.

I open the window to let in some air and hopefully get some of this musty smell out. As I eat my cereal, I listen to the birds sing and daydream about having a better job and apartment.

I put my bowl on the cabinet. I’ll wash it in the bathroom later.

Right now, I have to start getting ready for work.

Since it’s only about 2:20, I have plenty of time to actually do something with my hair and makeup. Saturday nights are always our busiest nights, and we can make decent cash in tips.

I grab my curling iron and makeup. I have an old mirror I keep in a suitcase with all my clothes that I can use to get ready.

Thank goodness I opened the window.

The breeze feels really nice.

Curling my hair is rare for me. Mainly because I’m already hot and don’t want to sweat before work. But with the cool breeze drifting in from the window, I can tolerate it.

I finish curling my hair and am surprised at how nice it looks.

My hair is pretty long, so usually I just pull it back into a ponytail. But it actually looks really nice down and curled.

“Time to get started on my makeup.”

Tony says my freckles make me look ugly and told me when I started that if I wanted to keep the job, I would have to cover them.

It’s tedious work doing my makeup. I had never worn any until I started working at the club. One of the strippers, Ambur, taught me the basics and helped me cover my freckles during my first few weeks working there.

Ambur is a great dancer. She can keep anyone’s attention spinning on the pole like she does. She has beautiful red hair and green eyes. She’s tall, too—five-foot-eleven without her heels. Men gawk at her all night.

She’s one of the few dancers at the club who isn’t addicted to heroin or meth. She does, however, sometimes take “customers” when the money is right.

Once I’m done with my makeup, I decide to wear the only uniform I have that shows a significant amount of skin: a miniskirt and a tank top that has been cut into a crop top.

This is the most I have ever shown, and I make a vow that I will never show more.

I grab my coat, since the chill still clings to the breeze at night, and my wallet.

I need to get a move on if I’m going to get there on time.

It’s already 4:35 p.m. My shift starts at five, and if I’m late by even one minute, Tony will try to dock my pay.

I go ahead and put on my coat to cover myself as I lock up my apartment and start walking toward the club.

I really hope tonight is a good night.

I walk into the club just two minutes before five.

Thank goodness.

I really don’t want to hear it from Tony.

I open my locker in the break room and put my coat and wallet inside. I lock it and spin the combination to random numbers.

When I turn around, Tony is standing by the door.

“Well, well, well. Look who finally decided to show some skin! About damn time. Does this mean you’re finally willing to take me up on my offer?”

Tony grins slyly.

What a disgusting man.

“Like hell I am. I’m only doing this for some extra tips. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have tables to wait.”

I push past Tony and make my way to the bar.

Josh, the bartender and the only guy who looks after the girls when creeps come in, is busy wiping down the counter before customers start filtering in.

“Hey, Josh. How’s Ambur doing?”

Josh is Ambur’s new boyfriend. He’s a damn good bartender and takes good care of her. She hasn’t had to work nearly as much since they moved in together.

But we’ll see how long they last.

Ambur does tend to have short romances.

“She’s doing great! She wanted to come in tonight, but she still wasn’t feeling too good. That cold really took it out of her,” Josh says with a smile.

“Well, I hope she starts feeling better soon.”

I smile back, grab a notepad and pen, and try to keep the smile plastered on my face.

“Good evening. How may I serve you tonight?” I ask my first table.

There are three tall gentlemen sitting there. Each of them has an average build and seems to take pride in his appearance.

One of the men in particular looks me up and down.

“Well, how much would I need to pay for your services later?”

He flashes me a sinful-looking grin.

Ugh.

Just keep smiling and politely decline, Ellie.

“I’m sorry, sir, but I meant drink options, not myself.”

I try to smile without making it look forced.

“Well, if you change your mind, let me be the first to know, yeah? And we’ll take whiskey on the rocks, please.”

He shoots me another smile.

With that, I turn and walk away.

“Whiskey on the rocks,” I tell Josh.

He has them ready before I can even complain.

“Thanks.”

I take the drinks back to the table.

“Here you go, gentlemen. I hope you enjoy the show tonight. Angela will be performing. Let me know if you need anything else.”

I spout out the information quickly. I just want to get away from the table.

“What about Ambur?” Mr. Flirtatious asks.

“She’s out sick, unfortunately. But Angela will make sure you have a wonderful show.”

I look between the three of them.

Something feels off.

“Thanks, love. Keep the drinks coming,” the man sitting across from Mr. Flirt says with a smirk.

Then I notice the third, quiet gentleman hasn’t taken his eyes off me.

The music starts, and I walk away, but I can still feel his penetrating gaze.

Creepy.

The quiet one is blond, with eyes so dark they look almost black. It’s an unusual combination, but somehow it suits him perfectly. He’s strikingly handsome, with sharp features softened only by the calm, unreadable expression he wears.

From the looks of him, he’s only a few years older than me.

I try to continue moving from table to table, taking orders while the music starts and Angela takes the stage.

But every move I make, I can feel him watching me.

I notice table one has empty glasses. I get another round from Josh and hesitantly make my way toward them.

“Here you go, gentlemen.”

I set down the fresh glasses and pick up the empty ones.

The talkative one grabs my wrist.

“Say, my boy here thinks you’re stunning, and he’d really like a little dance from you. What do you say? We’ll make it worth your while.”

I want to slap that smirk off his face so bad right now.

Suddenly, I feel my wolf growl.

Damn.

It’s been a week since I took the remedy.

She must finally be waking back up.

Not good.

Especially with customers like these.

My wolf hates any man looking at me, let alone touching me.

I yank my arm away.

“Like I said, I’m not on the menu. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

I damn near run from the table.

Whew.

That was a close one.

My wolf calms down now that I’m far away from the table.

I can still feel Mr. Quiet staring at me like he would love to take a bite.

I need to try to keep my distance from that table until my break. I have a tiny amount of my remedy in my locker. It won’t do much, but it should make her calm down until morning.

The clock finally strikes 9 p.m.

Time for my fifteen-minute break.

As I walk toward the break room, I hear a group of men enter the club. I glance back to see where they sit before I close the door.

Fantastic.

Six large men just sat at one of my biggest tables.

God, I hope they’re decent and good tippers.

I feel one of them staring at me as the door closes.

With that, I start my break.