CHAPTER 4
RICHIE
“Look, Richie, you can give me all the money you want, but I’m not giving you a percentage of the club.”
“Barry, I’ve been saving this money for a long time.”
“Good for you,” he said. “But the fact remains that this place is a shit hole and hemorrhaging money. New carpet isn’t going to fix that. I’m only keeping it open till the lease is up in six months, Richie, but don’t tell the other guys that. We’re barely making the rent. Nobody’s interested in watching dudes dance anymore. That ship has sailed.”
“Are you serious?” I asked, my heart pounding. “Why didn’t you tell us? You have to tell the other guys, that’s only fair.”
“Why would I do that, so they can go find other jobs and force me to close the club sooner? I’d be stuck with paying the rent out of my own pocket for the rest of the lease. No fucking way — and you better not tell them either, Richie. I fucking mean it!”
I took a deep breath, determined to reason with the man. He was stubborn, but was he really that stupid?
“Barry, listen, the club doesn’t have to die. The competition is booming. Look at that new club on the strip, The Man Cave. They opened last year and they’re doing great. Have you been there?”
“Of course not,” he shrugged.
“It’s modern and luxurious, and it doesn’t fucking smell like mold, Barry. Of course nobody wants to come here. Don’t you see what you’re doing here? By turning me down and letting this place die, you’re passing up a good opportunity to make some money.”
“I told you,” he repeated. “I’m not fucking interested. Cheetah’s makes me all the money I need. The money is in the tits. Big tits. Not dick. It’s over, Richie. You should be thankful I told you. Now go get ready, it’s almost showtime.”
I stared across the desk at him with exasperation. Nothing I said was going to change his mind, that much was clear. Slowly, I stood up and began to walk out. As I reached the doorway, I stopped and turned back, an idea forming in my head. It was crazy, it was far-fetched, it was probably impossible, but I had to at least try.
“What if I buy the club from you?”
Barry looked up at me with an amused grin.
“You?” he asked. “With what?”
“I’ll get a loan. Buy the whole business from you.”
“You’re really serious about this, aren’t you?”
“I am,” I nodded, firmly. I thought of my friends, about the life we’d built together over the last decade, the family we’d built, and I knew I had to do something. I couldn’t let them down. If Barry closes this place, we’ll all be fucked.
“The business is worth a million bucks, Richie.”
“Fine,” I nodded, trying to pretend I wasn’t reeling at the price.
“Alright,” he nodded, finally. “If you can get the financing, I’ll sell it to you. But I doubt you can get a loan for that much, you don’t have any collateral, Richie.”
“Leave that to me.”
“Alright, good luck,” he said.
“You won’t be sorry,” I said.
“No, but you probably will, you crazy fuck,” he laughed. “You’ll be bankrupt in two years tops.”
“We’ll see.”
“Yeah, yeah,” he said. “Get to work. Clock’s ticking.”
I turned around, my heart soaring with hope. I jogged down to the dressing room and flung open the door to three sets of inquiring eyes.
“Well?” Daine asked. “How did it go?”
“Terrible,” I said. “He’s not interested in letting me buy in.”
“Of course, he isn’t, the greedy bastard,” Fox said.
“He did tell me I could buy it outright,” I said.
They stared over at me in silence. Finally, Blaze asked, "For how much?”
“A lot. A whole lot. A million.”
“Jesus!” Fox said. “Is it worth that?”
I shrugged, because honestly I had no idea.
“Well, I guess nothing changes,” Daine said. “We’ll just have to make the most of it. At least we still have jobs.”
“Yeah, I guess,” I said, opening my locker and pulling off my boots and clothes. I grabbed a bottle of baby oil and began pouring it over my naked skin, my head spinning with ideas.
I had no fucking clue how to come up with a million dollars. I was pretty sure getting a loan was out of the question. Why in the world would anyone give me a loan for that much money?
I had to figure out something, though.
I had to try.
I looked over at the other guys, my best friends, the only true family I had and I knew that giving up wasn’t an option.
There had to be a way.
I pulled on my g-string, tucking my cock and balls firmly out of view and then pulled on my first costume of the night — a pair of black, leather chaps, black rattlesnake cowboy boots, and a black, satin cowboy shirt with pearl buttons. Staring at myself in the mirror next to Daine, I placed a heavy black Stetson on top of my head and tipped my hat to Daine in the mirror.
“Lookin’ good, stud,” he winked.
“Thanks, brother,” I said, my head spinning, searching for solutions.
“You okay?” Daine asked, lowering his voice. “I know this meant a lot to you. You saved up for a long time.”
“Yeah, man, I’m alright,” I lied. “Fuck Barry.”
“Not if you paid me a million dollars!” he laughed, as he grabbed the bottle of baby oil and squirted it onto his huge biceps.
“How’s the crowd tonight?” I asked.
“Sparse,” he said. “But Fox said a bachelorette party has a reservation for later tonight, so it should pick up.”
“Great,” I said, heading for the door. “Wish me luck!”
“Watch out for the vultures!” Daine called behind me. I laughed as I headed to the back of the stage. The ‘vultures’ were the ladies who ignored all the rules, the ones who tried to slide their tongues down our throats and put their hands in all the places they weren’t allowed to. Just like women strippers, we had to deal with the out of control customers, too. The ones who thought they could do whatever they wanted as long as they threw enough cash our way.
That’s not how this works, though.
I waited behind the shimmering gold lamé curtains while Barry, who served as our occasional MC, introduced me.
“Hello, ladies! Are you ready for the show?” he called out. “First of all, let me ask you a question. Do you like dick?”
He paused as the crowd roared with applause.
“Great, because I’ve got something very special for you! The King of Dick is here tonight! Give it up for Richie King!”
The sound of cheers and clapping filled my ears and I smiled with satisfaction. This is why I did this. Not because of the money. Not because of the pussy, either, although that was a nice bonus when it happened.
I did it for the attention.
The acceptance.
The few moments on stage when everything else faded away and it was just me and the music and the lights and the women watching with lust-filled eyes.
Just knowing they wanted me was enough.
I walked out on stage, the searing lights hitting my face like a burst of sunlight, the drumbeat pumping through my veins as my body began to move, the cheers exploding through the air and hitting me right in the gut as I ripped my shirt open.
This was where I found joy.
This was where I found love and self-confidence.
And there was no way in hell I was going to let Barry take all this away from me. I didn’t know how, or when, or what I was going to have to do to make it happen, but someday — this stage, these lights, this club — was all going to belong to me and I was going to resurrect it from the dead and make it successful again.
Dancing to the edge of the stage, I winked at the woman waiting there, her smile wide, her eyes sparkling with desire as I sank to my knees and grabbed her hand. I placed it on my oiled chest and rubbed it over my pecs as her eyes rolled back in ecstasy. I leaned down and kissed her cheek, stood up and strolled away, as she threw more bills on the stage.
In moments, I was sweaty and naked and the crowd was roaring with that sweet elixir of approval as they blanketed the stage in dollar bills like confetti.
I walked back to the dressing room with a sense of purpose and determination. This was my home. There was no way I was just going to allow Barry to throw it all way.
No matter what, I was going to find a way.