“Noah,” Professor Mitchell called during attendance.
I felt the sudden urge to look around the room, just to see if he was here. To this day, every time I heard that name, I wanted to run away. Although I knew it wasn’t ‘my Noah,’ it still burned. Over the years, the pain had numbed but never truly subsided. Even though it had been almost ten years since I’d last seen him, I still couldn’t forget him.
Snapping out of it, I quickly turned my attention back to the podium. I couldn’t wait to finish my last semester of graduate school. A day I’d been impatiently waiting for the past two years.
I trudged through the rest of the day, making sure I stopped for a latte before heading to work. I worked at Double D’s, an upscale gentleman’s club located in the center of Manhattan. Most of the men who frequent the club have more money than sense. They come for business dinners, bachelor parties, or any reason they can come up with. I enjoy it, though. Since my dad cut me off at eighteen, I needed a way to support myself. Working here, I made enough money to get by comfortably. Plus, it didn’t interfere with school. Win, win.
I was dressed and waiting off to the side of the stage.
“You know you love ‘em; you know you want to bang ‘em. I know I do. Introducing… our devilishly own Felony and Miss Demeanor,” Keith, the club’s skeevy MC, crooned into the microphone.
Stepping on shiny, black stiletto onto the raised platform, I peeked out at the crowd. It was a full house tonight, which meant fantastic tips. I sauntered onto the stage with my best friend and roommate, Ellie. Except, when we were here, we weren’t Jules and Ellie; I was Felony, and she was Miss Demeanor.
When we’d moved to New York, my mom was in a hurry to get rid of me, so she sent me to boarding school. That’s where I met Ellie. She was a fiercely protective, petite little spitfire. We connected right away and have been attached at the hip ever since.
Our song, ‘Porn Star Dancing’ by My Darkest Days, was pumping through the speakers and making the floor beneath shake. I loved the thrill of being up here; it filled me with adrenaline and made me feel liberated. I surveyed the dimly lit room, which was mostly lit up from the stage. The front of the stage was lined with stools. The rest of the club had tables and a couple booths. It also housed an expansive bar. I made eye contact with a few of the patrons before turning my attention to the shiny, silver pole.
I tossed my hair around and started swinging. I teasingly untied my black patent leather bikini top, giving the crowd a peek before tossing it offstage. A regular of mine, Russell, slipped a couple hundred-dollar bills into my boy-shorts. He was handsome for an older man. He had sparkly, blue eyes and a shaved head like Mr. Clean. He was sweet as pie and offered me a multitude of extravagant gifts to be his girlfriend. (He was only partly kidding.) I kissed the top of his head, leaving a red lipstick print, and gave him a wink before turning my attention back to the rest of the crowd. Ellie was working the other side of the stage like the porn star princess she was. She had already lost her top and had a group from a bachelor party tossing money at her.
They started a drunken chant. “Take it off!” She stood, shaking her finger at them.
Biting my lip, I made my way to the top of the pole before lowering my body upside down in an exotic spin. The electricity of the room was on high tonight and before long the song switched to AC/DC’s ‘Shook Me All Night Long.’ Ellie and I did our rehearsed dance before exiting the stage. The room erupted into cheers for an encore. Once we were in the break room, I unbuckled my black patent leather seven-inch spike heels and tossed them into my bag. After working here for the past few years, I could probably run a marathon in them.
Changing into street clothes, I grabbed a makeup remover wipe from the vanity to take off the excess eye shadow. I was relieved we were done for the night because I was exhausted.
“How’d you make out?” I asked Ellie.
“I made four hundred and forty-four dollars. Not bad for our eight-minute segment.” She gave me a high five. “How about you?”
I pulled out my money and counted it. Russell gave me four hundred and with the other money, I got I’d made a total of $721.
“Seven hundred and twenty-one smackers.” I winked, stuffing it into my bra.
“Holy shit! Not bad, chicky. We should do a shot to celebrate. Brad’s working the bar tonight.” She grinned.
I didn’t like to mix business with pleasure, but Ellie had a massive crush on Brad, so I knew I wasn’t getting out of it. “All right, but just one. I have class early tomorrow.”
“Yay.” She hooked her arm in mine, as we headed to get a seat at the bar.
“Hello, sexy ladies,” Brad said, appraising us. “What can I get you?”
Brad was cute in a boy-next-door kind of way. He had dark blonde hair and brown eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He'd only been working here for about three months and seemed likable enough. I didn’t really take the chance to get to know most of the people here, unlike Ellie.
“I’ll have a slippery nipple,” Ellie ordered, batting her fake eyelashes.
“I’ll have a Corona with lemon, not lime,” I ordered.
“You got it, sweet cheeks. That was one hell of a crowd out there.” He looked at the bachelor party crowd as they were cheering obnoxiously at the current dancers.
“Eh. It was all right. We’ve had better,” Ellie said.
He winked. “Are you ready for the huge one on Saturday? I can’t believe they rented out the club for the night! Must have cost them a fortune.”
“I’m sure it will be memorable, just like all the others,” I said dryly. I loved the money from the bachelor parties, but they were all the same. They mostly consisted of a bunch of drunken men trying to get a piece of ass.
I finished my beer and left Ellie talking, or more like flirting, with Brad. I kissed her cheek and told her I would see her at home. I waved to Dan, who was the security guard that stood watch at the back door to the parking garage.
“Have a good evening, Miss Kline.”
“You too, Dan, and will you call me Jules already?” I laughed.
I climbed into my Infiniti IPL G convertible, tossing my bag onto the passenger seat. I spent the thirty-minute drive home thinking about all the schoolwork that I had waiting for me. My mind started drifting to ten years ago, again. I pushed it out of my head.
I haven’t spoken with my mother since a couple months after we moved to New York. During spring break, things got downright ugly with her, so bad that cops were involved. I left and never went back. I’ve been on my own ever since. I didn’t like to think of that night, just like I didn’t like to think of Noah. The one person whom I trusted more than anyone in the world, the one who ended up ripping my heart clean out of my chest and pulverized it in a blender.