Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 96850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 96850 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 484(@200wpm)___ 387(@250wpm)___ 323(@300wpm)
“You’re well known around here, so yes, I’m slightly nervous. That’s the point I’m trying to make.”
“Fine.” Eve picked up the clipboard to examine the top page. “What else has you so jumpy, babe?”
“My proposition.”
“Which is?”
Veda ran her thumbs upward beneath her suspenders. “You have a lot of land out back of this place. It’s just sitting there, unused. Do you have plans for it?”
As if she could see through the wall, Eve glanced in the direction of the acre that lay empty behind the club. Once upon a time, her father had used the space as overflow parking, but Eve sure as heck didn’t have an overflow problem now. In fact, she’d barely thought of the empty land in two years. “No plans at the moment.”
“Not going to lie, I was hoping you’d say that.” Veda scooted closer to the table, flattening her palms on the surface. “So, I’m in a band—”
Before Veda could go any further, sunlight invaded the club, followed by a series of clicking footsteps. Whoever had arrived was in heels. “Well, praise the lord. Someone came prepared to audition.”
“That felt targeted,” Veda responded, her eyes trained on the entrance to the performance area, along with Eve’s. But unlike Eve’s, they widened as a woman sauntered into the room in leather pants, a cape . . . and pasties, complete with tassels.
“You can cancel the other auditions,” drawled the newcomer, who appeared to be in her early fifties, though her light brown skin belonged in advertisements for antiaging cream. “Rhonda has arrived.”
Eve’s lips twitched “Hi, Rhonda. Do you have music?”
“Nope. I dance to whatever is playing in my head.”
What little energy Eve had left flatlined. “Okay. I need a drink.”
“Question.” Rhonda sauntered over to the table, hands on hips, perusing her surroundings as if she was mentally redesigning her new kingdom. “What are the performance parameters? Can I flash a little bush?”
Veda slapped a hand over her mouth.
Eve didn’t so much as blink. She’d more or less been raised in a strip club. Sat backstage and listened to the performers recap their conversations with the customers and, on occasion, overheard those exchanges firsthand. She’d been present for it all. “There are no hard rules, although in the spirit of burlesque, we encourage the performers to keep something to the imagination.”
“Even if I flash it, I’m staying fully covered. I haven’t seen the inside of a waxing studio for the better part of a decade.” Rhonda waved a handful of acrylic nails at the clipboard. “Check my references. They’re airtight.”
Eve flipped to Rhonda’s résumé and scanned. “Your most recent job experience is from nineteen ninety-one.”
Rhonda’s expression lost all trace of amusement. “Eve, right?”
“Yes.”
“Trust me, Eve. I can put butts in these seats.”
What did Eve have to lose at this point? Fine, she had four more auditions today. And fine, Rhonda wasn’t who she’d expected to walk through the door. Well, maybe that was a good thing. What Eve had done so far hadn’t worked. And despite Rhonda’s lack of recent work in the industry, Eve refused to let age factor into her decision whether or not to give Rhonda a chance with some stage time. Burlesque was about creativity and humor, not what society deemed perfection.
“Can we get a quick preview?” Eve asked.
Rhonda squinted. “I don’t take my clothes off, unless I’m getting paid, but I’ll give you a little taste.”
“That’s all I ask.”
Rhonda took out her phone, following Eve’s instructions for connecting to the Bluetooth. “I Wanna Be Loved by You” by Marilyn Monroe filled the performance space a second later and the music did nothing short of inhabit Rhonda’s body. She shimmied around the tables, granting eyelash flutters to the empty seats, stopping every few feet to twirl her pasties in time with Marilyn’s breathy croon. Hip bump, hip bump, she strutted down the center of the floor like she was coming to take somebody’s man.
“All right, Full Bush Rhonda,” Eve called, smiling. “I’ll give you a shot.”
Rhonda, visibly pleased, approached Eve and Veda while sweeping her cape back over one shoulder. “You won’t be sorry.”
“I have your phone number here—I’ll text you with call times. Please bring your own performance music. Or at least know what you’d like us to play.”
“‘Thriller’ by the king of pop, please. Slowed-down version.”
“Wow. Sexy. Okay.” Eve massaged her eye sockets as hard as possible. By the time she dropped her hands, Rhonda had left the building.
“That was incredible,” Veda breathed.
“Oh, look at that,” Eve said, making a note on her clipboard. “You’re still here.”
“As I was saying about the open land in back—”
Eve’s phone rang. The school again. “Hi?”
“Ms. Keller. Can you come get Landon? He threw up.”
Alarm jolted her in the seat. “He did? Like, for real?”
“Watched it happen.”
“Shit. I’m coming.” She found herself unable to move. “Wait, where do I take him? Home or . . . the hospital?”