The stripper wasn’t a she at all.
When Brian and Raymond entered the dimly lit, rundown club, flashed their badges to the bored-looking bouncer, and asked for Angel, he pointed across the floor to one of the numerous stages with ripped, male dancers shaking their booty to the music.
Raymond made a hmm noise, halfway between surprise and disappointment.
Brian was far more shocked, and his mouth dropped open. “They’re guys?” he directed to the bouncer, who only shrugged.
“I just work here, man.” He pointed again to the stage dead center of the floor. “The dancer you want is right there. The Puerto Rican with the tattoo.”
Brian nodded mutely, then he and Raymond made their way into the club.
“Well,” Raymond said sidelong to him, and Brian would’ve replied but…
Yeah. He was very distrac
