23 Adult Education

by Thescarredman

Kat learns how rocky the road to love can be, especially for a Gen dating a Keeper on her 'pickup' team.

2. Amateur Night

Sunday September 17 2006
San Diego

"Caitlin," Sarah said doubtfully, "Do you really think this is going to be fun?"

The four women of the Lynch household were cruising through the parking lot at Arena's just before eight o'clock, looking for an empty slot. The blacktop was packed. Almost every space was taken, mostly by SUVs and sports cars, and a few limos idled in the aisles, blocking traffic. Men, mostly in their twenties and thirties, were milling around the lot like it was a tailgate party. Many of them stared into the windows of the minivan as if it were a display case.

"I don't know," Caitlin replied, turning the vehicle down another aisle. "But it should be educational."

A bouncer type in a neon safety vest stepped in front of them, and she brought the vehicle to a stop. He put his face close to the driver's window and spoke through the glass, clearly expecting Kat to leave it up. "Dancers' lot is over there, by the entrance." He waved towards a chained-off section of the lot near the door, accessible past two more Security types; the space appeared to be about a third empty.

"Um, we're not contestants. We're just here to see a friend."

The guard looked around the lot at the men drifting through the aisles; some were migrating their way. "I won't tell. You don't register till you're inside, and nobody checks." He spoke into a small handheld radio, waved to catch the attention of the reserved-lot guards, and then pointed at the van. "Go on. Safer for everybody this way."

"Thanks." She rolled the van inside the chains and parked. As they got out, they saw that the entire crowd was headed for the door after them. She was a little uneasy until she checked her watch: just a few minutes before eight, showtime.

Sarah said, "This isn't what I expected. I thought I was used to having men stare at me, but this is different." They joined a short line at the door, which suddenly got longer as all the men in the lot started filing in behind them. There was nothing sinister or threatening in their behavior; many of them were staring openly at the four girls, but there were also plenty of chuckles and good humor mixed with the shameless scrutiny. It made her glad she'd been especially firm with Roxanne and Sarah about modest dress.

"It certainly is," Anna said, smiling as she scanned the lot. "You may be used to the stares of men who imagine you naked, but these guys actually have some expectations."

As soon as they passed through the door, the music thrummed out at them: heavy bass and a breathy female vocalist apparently trying to sing in the middle of an orgasm. The entrance opened onto a short hall, with a window in one wall near the door where an older man was seated, taking money. "No cover for dancers," he said, as Caitlin opened her purse.

Sarah raised an eyebrow. "No pun intended?"

"Register here." He pushed a clipboard through the window.

"We're not here to dance. We're patrons." Kat added up the cover for all four of them, and passed the money through.

He laid his hand over the money, and her hand, and looked them over. "If you change your mind, you can come back any time before the end of the contest. I'll make sure you get a refund. Right now, I need to see ID on all of you." She and Anna showed him their expert forgeries. Then he gestured for Sarah's, but she wasn't paying attention.

"Sarah?"

"Hmm?" Sarah was staring down the short hallway into the club proper, where the professional dancers were moving among the tables in various states of undress. She wet her lips.

"Sarah." Anna leveled a look at her: no mean feat, considering the six-inch height difference. "Bobby, love of your life, remember?"

"Forevermore. But it doesn't hurt to look, right?"

Roxy handed hers over last. He gave her a sharp look, and then examined the ID carefully. "I'll be right back."

Roxy opened her mouth, but Anna shushed her with a gesture. "Wait. What are you doing?"

"She looks a little young. I'm just gonna make a copy of this. If the licensing people come in here, I need proof we checked your ID."

The special encoding on the licenses would spoof any electronic inquiry, but a photocopy would show the ID as it really appeared, with Roxy's face and real name. We can't leave tracks like that anywhere.

"No, you don't," Anna said, loud enough for everyone in line to hear. "They can just ask her to show ID, and you're in the clear. You can't make a copy of it without her permission. It's a violation of federal law. It's got her address on it. It's got her Social Security number on it, for crying out loud." She looked behind her at the line. "People are getting nervous. If they think you might make a paper copy of their ID, you might lose some customers."

He shoved the card back at Anna. "Just trying to keep the minors outside."

"Understood." Anna gave Kat's sister back her license. "Check them all you like. If you see one that looks suspicious, I'm sure there are undercover cops in here who can run it for you."

As they walked down the hallway, Anna said, "He's calling someone." Her voice deepened into a fair imitation of the doorman's. "'Rock. See those four dykes comin in? Look like trouble. One of you keep an eye on them.'"

Sarah's eyelids drooped dangerously.

"Fun, Sarah, remember?"

"Certainly."

They paused at the end of the hall and surveyed the scene. The main room was a glittering space lit mostly with spots. At the back wall, she saw a small stage with a doorway opening somewhere in the back; a runway extended from it halfway into the room. The rest of the floor was occupied by tables. A bar lined one side, and bead curtains closed off a row of doorways on the other. Half the tables were filled already, and scantily-clad women were moving among them, filling drink orders and squirming in customers' laps; no one was on stage yet. Dozens of men, and more than a few women, were seated at tables or wandering about, smiling and trading words with the dancers and with each other. The closest of them noticed the four girls and stopped to stare. Like a pond rippling from a thrown stone, the action stilled in a wavefront expanding outward from the four of them. The performers kept dancing, but the patrons stopped watching, turning their heads to stare in the direction of the newcomers.

Roxy said, "Ever seen one of those old Westerns, where the gunslinger pauses at the saloon doors?"

Thumping and shuffling sounds echoed down the hallway as new arrivals piled up behind them. Caitlin could almost feel her backside warming up from the stares. "Sarah," she hissed, "Take it easy. You're pulling in every guy in the place. Relax."

"Hon, it's not just her. You're both broadcasting, near full power. Do you need to go to the bathroom, maybe? Splash a little cold water on?"

Sarah put on a smile, tossed her head to bring her raven hair over her shoulder, and touched Kat's hand in a reassuring gesture. "No, no. We'll be fine, shikasin. I just don't like being insulted. I had a tense moment, and she got nervous watching me. There's no trouble. Let's just grab a table, then Caitlin can look for her friend."

The crowd started to settle back down somewhat. Plenty of guys were still staring, but the ones at the tables where the dancers were performing pulled their eyes back to the show. The girls picked out a table on the side of the runway opposite the bar, which was a little less packed. As they sat, Roxy said, "Close call, guys. I thought we were gonna get chased back to our car." She shook her head. "Imagine us running out the door like bank robbers, with a dog pack of tubby guys in football jerseys baying at our heels."

"Kat, you do know how to make an entrance." Adrienne stood at her side, dressed in a floor-length white robe; the garment closed with a single tie at the waist, exposing plenty of leg and cleavage. Clearly visible under the gauzy material, she was wearing something brief and lacy.

Kat introduced everyone. The corner of Adrienne's mouth twitched when she introduced her "stepmother." "You're an old friend of Andy's? Was he your crossing guard when you were a kid?"

Anna put a hand over her mouth to hide her smile. "Close. Base security when I was a kid. He was always on my case, like he was detailed to me or something. But we get along now."

Adriana turned next to Roxanne. "And you're the sister who dances." She looked from Roxanne to Caitlin, comparing. "Not how I imagined you."

"I know," her little sister shrugged. "I'm still hoping. Sis came kind of late to puberty."

"So I've heard." Last, she looked at Sarah. "Do you think you're going to have a good time tonight? Kat wasn't sure."

Sarah gave her a small smile with eyes that didn't stop at Adrienne's face. "If I can't find fun, I'll make my own."

A man appeared a step behind Sarah's chair. He was burly, young, and his clean-cut good looks were totally at odds with her preconceived image of a strip club bouncer; she imagined he could make serious extra money if Arena's had a Ladies' Night. He examined them in a way that was disturbing without being aggressive.

"Tony," Adrienne said, "what are you doing?"

"Rock sent me over. Said to make sure there's no trouble."

Sarah's eyes glittered as she stood. Uh oh, guess we're leaving.

But when the Apache Princess turned, she widened her eyes, the picture of sincerity, and closed with the big guard until only a hand's width separated them. Caitlin saw the man's Adam's apple bob as he looked down. "That is so sweet," Sarah purred, looking up at him. "I'm sure there won't be any trouble while you're here. But we do get a little crabby if we're not properly watered." She tilted her head towards the bar. "Do you think …"

Tony took their drink orders and headed for the bar. "Sit down," Sarah told Adrienne. "I'm going to stand for a while."

"Sarah, what are you doing?"

"Distracting myself. Reminding myself I'm a guy girl now. Having a little harmless fun."

Roxanne said cautiously, "Things going okay with you and Bobby?"

"Oh, things are going splendidly. Except that I can't even kiss him with my mouth open unless I'm dead drunk or medicated into a near coma." She glanced at the bar, where Tony was waiting for their drinks. To Caitlin, it seemed Sarah was giving the man's rear end an unusually close examination. "We're making progress, but it's going slower than I ever dreamed, and it's harder than I ever imagined."

"You guys look awful in the morning sometimes."

"It's not just the lack of sleep and feeling sick half the night. I wasn't prepared to be so excruciatingly horny all the time. I hadn't thought about the effect of spending every night steeping in sex hormones." She looked around the room. "I'm fantasizing about every woman in the place who gives me a second glance. Even some of the guys are looking good." She watched Tony turn away from the bar. "Here comes one now."

Anna steepled her fingers. "Shikasin, you're about to do something wicked, aren't you?"

Adrienne gave Kat a puzzled look; she shrugged. "It's a long story."

"Bet it'd be worth it." The dancer sat in Sarah's seat, flipping the bottom of the robe over her bare legs. "I'll have to get back out on the floor soon, but I'll come back later." She looked across the table at Caitlin. "Then we'll make time for a little private talk."

Tony returned with a tray bearing two iced teas, a diet cola, and a glass of ice water. "You girls really know how to party." He passed the water to Anna. "You must be the designated driver. Smart precaution. Those ice teas really sneak up on you." Sarah, once again deep inside the guy's personal space, grinned and slapped him lightly on the shoulder; he smiled back uncertainly.

A waitress appeared with a tray, carrying four expensive import beers. "From the fellas at that table over there. See them? The football jerseys?"

Roxanne rolled her eyes.

She said, "Thanks, but send them back."

"Wait," Adrienne said. "Kat, take your own advice. Leave them here, or you'll be sending drinks back all night. You don't have to invite them to join you, and if they come to the table, thank them, but explain that it's a girls-only night. They'll respect that."

"I wouldn't want them following us to our car, looking for payment."

Adrienne shook her head. "Won't happen. One of the reasons I picked this place for my home base instead of a club in L.A." She looked around at the tables. "The crowds at strip clubs are usually better-behaved than at your average sports bar, and this place is better than most. The regulars are polite, and if some new fish tries to touch a girl, or even gets too loud with the comments, the house falls on him. He gets escorted off the property, all the way off the lot, and he doesn't come back. No woman has ever been molested in the club or the lot."

"Wow." Sarah gazed up into Tony's eyes. "I always wondered what it would be like, having a big strong man to protect me." Roxy discreetly stuck two fingers in her mouth for a moment and coughed.

Tony mumbled, "Just my job. We like to see the girls come back."

"The Security guy in the lot had us thinking we might get pulled right out of our car."

"Big guy? Sandy hair cut short?" When she affirmed it, Adrienne said, "That's Connor, the security boss. He likes to put on a show for the girls who come in on Amateur Night. He figures if they think they're doing something a little dangerous, it gets them hot, and they put on a better show."

Roxanne snorted.

"It works, actually. So does encouraging them to take stage names." She grinned at them. "If it's not really you up there, but some exotic alter ego, it reduces your inhibitions. The club has been doing this for a long time, and they know what works. Arena's draws people from three counties on Amateur Night."

"All right," a voice on a PA system said, "Let's get started. Say hello to our first contestant, Mercedes." Brief applause, then a girl appeared on stage from the doorway, somewhat ill at ease in a lacy teddy. A new song began, and she walked up the stage, acting more like a runway model than an exotic dancer. She reached the pole at the end of the runway and snuggled up to it, lifting a leg and rubbing her thigh against it.

The crowd responded with hoots and encouraging calls. "Take it off!" "Shake it, baby." "Use it like you mean it!" She flushed and smiled, and began to gyrate, grinding her pelvis against the pole. "Yeah!"

Roxy said, "How much does she have to take off?"

"Nobody has to strip. This is Amateur Night: you pick your song, get up on stage, and do what you want, and the crowd picks the winner." Adrienne lifted an eyebrow as the girl got on her knees and elbows, shoving her rump into the air as the spectators with the best view howled. "You can even dance in your street clothes. But first prize is a thousand dollars. Most of the girls will be willing to go down to bra and panties to win it. Half of them will flash a nipple, at least, and a couple are sure to go all the way."

The song ended, and another contestant took the stage. The PA announced, "Chantelle, fellas. Anybody who was here last week knows you're in for a treat." "Chantelle" was a leggy and attractive black girl dressed in shorts and a middy top; the "treat" appeared to be the speed at which she shed them. Throughout her song, the girl strutted around the stage in underwear as skimpy as Roxy's, posing and smiling, to the clear delight of the customers.

Roxy said "This isn't dancing. I don't know why they bother with music; they aren't even moving to a beat."

Adrienne shrugged. "They're completely untrained, but the crowd's forgiving; anything goes on Amateur Night. Still, if you're an artiste, Roxanne, you'd be disappointed at the performances Monday through Saturday." She looked up at the stage as another girl sashayed up the runway, unbuttoning her shirt. "A night at a place like this isn't a night at the ballet." She swung her head around, indicating the crowd. "These guys aren't here to appreciate the girls' technical expertise."

Snort. "Guess not."

"Not what you're thinking, either. I'll bet the prize tonight doesn't go to the girl with the biggest knockers." She grinned. "Or the one who struts out on stage at the start of her number naked as a jaybird. Those aren't the big earners among the pros, either. To be a successful stripper, as a pro or an amateur, you have to realize the real reason men come here."

"Not to look at naked women?"

"See for yourself. How much time is each of the guys looking on stage? Forget the tables where the pros are dancing, for now."

Roxy cast her eyes around the room; Kat looked too, and saw what Adrienne was talking about. At most of the tables where no dancers were working, the men were acting like they were watching the show, but they were spending just as much time enjoying each others' company. And a lot of them were casting surreptitious glances at their table, with nothing to see but four modestly dressed women and a dancer on break.

The dancer went on, "What we do here is partly performance art, but it's mostly business. We find a need and make a product to fill it."

Roxanne looked around at the dancers squirming in their customers' laps, and others sitting at tables chatting. "A product? Not a service?"

"No. We're making a fantasy." Adrienne made a hand gesture that included the entire establishment. "A tiny minority of the men who come in here are leering scumbags; they might offer you money, but not for anything you're prepared to give. Another small group of guys are … well, we call them players; they collect conquests. You know the type. They're usually gorgeous, and you know they don't have trouble getting dates. Getting one with a stripper is a status symbol for them, since we're both desirable and notoriously hard to get; sometimes a girl who's new to the business will give them some time. But they don't spend much in here; that's part of their game. Pros with a little experience avoid both types.

"But most of the men who come here are decent guys with half-decent jobs, who'd never work up the nerve to ask for a hot girl's number if they met one in a bar or a supermarket. In here, they can be someone different than they are outside these walls. This is a modern version of the sheik's tent. This is where a guy who wears a football jersey to hide his spare tire comes to pretend that he's a stud who can have his pick of beautiful women. Stripping is the art of making yourself an object of fantasy – not just desirable, but approachable under the right conditions. The money makers in this business are the girls who know how to sell themselves, who can put themselves into a customer's head and become an essential part of his fantasy."

She pointed up on stage, where a short-haired blonde was just stepping out on stage, looking rather dominatrix in a black leather corset and a thong; Anna seemed strangely interested for a moment. "And it starts up there. That's where you advertise your wares, and I'm not talking about what you're hiding under your street clothes. You show attitude. You look sexy. You make the crowd know there's lots more they're not seeing, even if you haven't got a stitch on. You make every guy in the place want you for his very own. Then, if you've shown you've got what it takes, you make your money there." She pointed at the tables. "And especially in there." She pointed to the beaded curtains leading into the private rooms. "Not much goes on in there that you don't see at the tables, usually, or even on stage. What the customers are paying extra for is the illusion of intimacy. On stage, you're dancing for the whole club. At table, you're doing it for the table, even though everyone in the club can still see you. In the booth, you're dancing for him alone, and guys eat it up. Those booths are decorated to resemble bedrooms for a reason. As long as a customer complies with the rules of conduct, and keeps the money coming, he can have the undivided attention of a gorgeous and lusty female, without the slightest risk of rejection. In the booth, a girl who can read her customer can get him to empty his wallet."

Roxy looked at a nearby table dancer, then at one of the curtains. "Sounds kind of … predatory."

"Then I've stated things poorly. If a guy feels he's not getting his money's worth, he can quit buying, or even leave. Roxanne, more times than I can count, I've had a man stick his last twenty into my hands, knowing it means he'll be eating canned soup for dinner every night until payday. Ask any of them if they think they wasted their money." Adrienne leaned forward, intent on getting her point across. "If you're good enough, Roxanne, you can give a man something that he hungers for more than food." She looked up at the next contestant, wearing a two-piece swimsuit, stumbling by in her six-inch heels. "You realize, don't you, that most of these girls are here with their boyfriends?"

"Get outta here! They brought their boyfriends to watch this?"

"You've got it backwards, dear. Guys will work on their girlfriends for weeks to get them up on this stage."

"Why? For a thousand dollars?"

Adrienne shook her head. "No. For the thrill of seeing a hundred strangers lusting after a girl they'll be taking home. Every Amateur Night, lot security has to tap on car windows, breaking up contestants and their boyfriends… because they couldn't wait till they got home. You understand?"

Roxy shook her head slowly. "I don't think so. I've got a better idea of what's going on inside the sun than I do what's going on inside my boyfriend's head."

The older girl smiled, pushed her chair back, and rose. "Take your seat back, Sarah. I've got to mingle."

"I don't know," Sarah said. She was standing with her back to Tony, so close they could probably feel each other's body heat. "I'm fine right here." He seemed rather at war with himself over the Apache Princess's proximity and aggressive behavior. He took a short step back as Adrienne passed by. Without looking behind her, Sarah stepped back as well, closing the gap again.

"The room is clean," Anna said in a low voice. "There are no IO employees or retirees on the premises. There are cameras, but they're focused on the stage and the bar. I'm watching the doors. We're as safe here as anywhere."

"Ladies, not to worry," Tony said. "Whoever you're on the lookout for, they'd better behave if they show up, or else. And we'll make sure you get to your car okay. Relax and have fun."

Sarah said, "You know, I'm sure you could watch over us just as well if you sat at our table." She pulled her chair out. "And it might keep the free drinks from piling up. Come on, take a load off."

He sat cautiously. As soon as his hands were on the table, her fingers were digging into his meaty shoulders. "Just as I thought. So tense." His breath hissed out from between his teeth as she massaged his shoulders, his neck, and the back of his head. "It's like kneading a block of wood. Help me out, Paleface? This is your specialty."

The corner of Anna's mouth lifted as she rose from her chair and took up a position behind the big man. Side by side, the two women worked on his shoulder and neck muscles. His raised his chin and closed his eyes to slits.

"Sis," Roxy said in a low voice, "Adrienne looks like a tough act to follow." Her little sister wasn't talking about stage performance, she was sure.

"Thanks for the vote of confidence. Do you think she knows what she's talking about? About guys, I mean, and why they come here." She turned to Tony. "Has Adrienne been here long?"

"Couple years off and on. Adrienne's our number one girl around here. Uhhh, yeah, right there. Owner's damn glad to have her. She really belongs in a club in L.A., or Vegas."

Sarah and Anna gave her conspirators' looks as they worked on Tony's neck and shoulders; you could almost hear him purr. They're getting him relaxed and talkative, before Adrienne gets back. "Then why is she here?" But she thought she already knew.

"So she can have more time with her kid. Husband's got custody, the prick. Ahhh."

She felt a prickle at the back of her neck. "Why do you say that? Have you met him?"

"No, but everybody knows how he got the kid away from her. Showed the judge some magazine pictures of her naked, and convinced him the little guy couldn't have a normal life with her. Like she's some kind of slut who'll be bringing men home to bang on the sofa while the kid's watching cartoons."

The other three women looked at her sharply. She knew what they were thinking. They'd pounced on her when she'd gotten home last night AND fired questions at her about her first date ever, from his appraisal of her at the restaurant to the embarrassed little peck on the lips she'd given him at the end of the night by her car door. The Q and A had turned into a party as they'd discussed men in general and Dan in particular. The sweet, attentive, and gentlemanly Dan Grissom she'd described to them didn't jibe with the ruthless stranger of Tony's description. Her sistahs were wondering what she was getting herself into.

Well, so do I.

A huge shout went up from the audience. The girl on stage had pulled down her bra, and was squeezing her ample breasts together for the crowd.

"First tit of the night," Tony said. "The ice is broken now. Gonna see a lot more skin on stage from now on. We can move you to another table if you have a problem with it."

"None at all," Sarah replied, still running her fingers through the hair on the back of his neck as she glanced up on stage. She bent low, and breathed into his ear as she spoke. "If we did, this would be a stupid place for a girls' night out, don't you think?"

Tony groaned. "God, that feels good. You girls both single?"

"Why would it matter?" Anna smiled as her eyes flicked from door to door while she squeezed his trapezius muscles.

"Cuz after doing something that feels this good, we really oughtta get married." He grinned.

"True. But I'm still married to the last guy I did this for."

"Heh. Guess that leaves you, Sarah."

"Don't be silly. I'm a lesbian, remember?"

"Huh?"

The glitter was back in Sarah's dark eyes, but her tone was still pleasant. "You know. A dildo queen. A rug muncher. A dyke." Her fingers never changed rhythm. "That's why you're here, isn't it? To keep us dykes from making trouble of some kind? Oh dear, all tense again."

"Um, I-"

"Shikasin, this man's been nothing but kind since he got here." Anna stroked Tony's head. "Save your ire for the cretin who deserves it – the jerk at the ticket window."

"I don't know what kind of run-in you had with Sam," Tony said carefully, "but he's an idiot. He couldn't hold a job here if he wasn't the owner's brother. He likes to pretend he's collecting the gate because he's the only one his brother trusts with the money, but, really, it's the job he's least likely to screw up. On behalf of all custodians of the Y chromosome, I apologize. Please don't stop." Anna laughed, followed a moment later by the rest of them, Sarah included.

"Your fingers are probably getting tired," Anna said. "Give them a rest, Princess. Just rub the back of his head, while I try to do something with these traps. Tony, this would be a lot easier if your shirt was off."

"No way."

"Wasn't a suggestion, just an observation. It would also be easier if your muscles weren't so huge. Football in college?"

"High school. I was good enough to get looked over by some college scouts. Then I wasted my knee, senior year. Best thing could have happened to me. Otherwise I'd still be on some third-rate team, spending half my life waiting for something to heal so I could get back in the game." He was loosening up again under Anna's expert touch; his eyes closed to slits. "Hmmmm. Coach was the absolute best. Made us come to him right after school every day, but the first hour of practice was a study hall, and he knew where every one of us was having trouble. Instead of talking the teachers into passing us, he talked them into tutoring us. I graduated with three winning seasons, a blown knee, and a B-plus average. Any other football coach would've smuggled me past my classes until I got hurt, then cut me with nothing to show for four years of high school but F's in all my subjects." He sighed. "Wouldn't have got to college without that guy, much less get my degree."

Sarah's hand stilled. "You've got a degree? In what?"

He grinned. "Not diesel repair. Social science."

One of Sarah's academic targets was a minor in social science. "Why aren't you doing something with it?"

"I do, every night. There's more to keeping order in a place like this than jumping on guys who break the rules. People won't come to a club where the security's all gorillas licking their knuckles and waiting for trouble. You have to study the group dynamics, and see which tables bear scrutiny, so you can quell trouble before it starts."

"And did we bear scrutiny?"

"Yes, but not because we thought you'd make trouble. I was standing by the bar watching the crowd when Rock called me on the radio and said we've got a group of four girls coming in, and make sure there's no trouble. I saw what he meant as soon as you came out of the hallway and posed."

Caitlin felt a touch of heat rise to her cheeks; she hoped the club's dim lighting concealed it. "We weren't posing; we were just looking around."

"I call em as I see em. The whole place ground to a halt while every guy in here looked you over. Hell, I couldn't take my eyes off you for half a minute." He nodded towards the untouched beers on the table. "The armchair quarterbacks bought those before you found a table – told the server to bring em as soon as you sat. And when Adrienne jumped up and ran over to greet you like old friends, it all fell into place. By the time I went back to the bar for your drinks, everybody in the club knew what was going on."

"Oh?" It wasn't much of a comeback, but it was all she had.

"Yeah. So, where are you girls from?" His tone was too casual.

"Well, I'm from Seattle. Sarah's from some little town in Arizona. Roxy-"

"No. I mean, 'what club?'"

She paused, feeling off balance. Anna's and Sarah's hands stilled. She said, "We're not dancers. Why would you think so?"

"Aside from your looks? Because of Adrienne. I said she's our number one girl, but not just because she's our biggest money maker. She half runs this club - not official, but she makes suggestions to Eric that always pay off. Adrienne knows the business, the entertainment side anyway. She hasn't really been dancing long, but she's made tracks. She's worked clubs from coast to coast, and she knows everybody. The girls and the clients have gotten classier since she came here. Income's up, and the club's getting a good reputation all over So Cal. Having a headliner with two Playboy spreads didn't hurt either. The club is raking it in, and everybody profits from it, Adrienne especially.

"That's not all. She's got fan sites on the Web, and a subscription service, too. About once a month, she hires a good photographer to take naughty pictures of her for subscribers to access. Plus she models lingerie for the naughty-girl shops and costumes for the stripper trade. The girl has money coming her way in buckets, and nobody thinks she's blowing it like a lot of them do. Everybody thinks it's just a matter of time before she opens a club of her own."

He grinned. "And four ladies with 'showgirl' written all over them come dropping in like they're slumming, and Adrienne's chatting with them before they sit down. You're not from anywhere around here; some of these guys travel to clubs all over, and they'd know. My money's on Toronto."

"We're not dancers," she repeated.

"Uh huh."

"Why Toronto?" Roxanne asked.

"Because," he said, giving her a look no grown man should give a seventeen-year-old girl, "everyone knows that Toronto clubs have some of the hottest women in the Western Hemisphere."

"Oho," Sarah said, starting on his shoulders again. "You just made her day."

"Don't let it go to your head, sweetie." Anna resumed as well, smiling. "I'm sure you and I are basking in our sisters' reflected glory."

"Oh, not so," he replied, rolling his head loosely. "You have the most beautiful fingers of any woman I have ever known." Then he gave Roxy a mischievous grin. "There are plenty of guys who'd get a dirty thrill from watching a sexy little thing who can make herself look like jailbait; I bet they swarm to the stage when you dance."

"We're not dancers. I'm a computer programmer. Anna's a housekeeper. Roxy's still in school; so's Sarah."

"Uh huh," he said again. He gestured towards dancers on the floor, writhing naked or half-naked at the tables. "Delia's a paramedic. Stacy does financial planning. Jill manages a daycare. They all make more money working nights at the club than they do at the jobs they went to school for." He twisted his head to look up at Sarah. "That degree on my resume got me a job working for the county, taking kids away from their parents by court order. I'm still just hired muscle. I use what I learned in school more here."

"So," Roxy said coyly, "How old do you think I am?"

"Well, I'd never try to guess a girl's age, but since you ask … twenty-four, maybe. No more."

"Ha! I'm barely legal."

He can't really believe she's the oldest, Caitlin thought. He's playing her for information.

"No way." He looked at her sister, and then at her. "If you're brand new to the business, how'd you end up in this crew? Apprenticeship program? You gotta be older than that."

"We're not dancers," she said tiredly. "Roxy, show him your ID."

He looked the card over, making a show of glancing from Roxy to the photo and back again. "Huh. It's real hard to believe you just turned twenty-one."

"The guy at the window thought so, too; only the other way around. He tried to run a copy."

"A what?" His brows gathered.

Caitlin explained, "He wanted to run her ID through the copier. He made it sound like you do it all the time. Don't you have a lot of minors trying to sneak in?"

"Sure," he said thoughtfully. "Boys, not girls. And we deal with suspicious ID by refusing entry."

Adrienne returned to the table. "Hoo, I'm dizzy. I think I've been to every table on the floor. Men are pulling me out of my chair to come visit. But I haven't danced once; they all want to sit me down with a drink and ask about you." She plunked down in Anna's chair. She looked at Tony and the two women standing behind him. "You three are taking attention away from the floor show. Tony, every time I glance this way, you look like you're having an orgasm." The big guy flushed. "I've had eleven guys ask me what you two would charge for half an hour – and I don't think they're all talking about massage; one of them's a Crockett."

"Crockett?"

"Undercover Vice," Tony said. "Scum of the earth. Obvious as hell. But we take their money. They turn into big spenders if they're fishing for illicit activity." He stood. "You sticking around for a few, Adrienne? I need to take care of something."

Adrienne looked at her. "I was about to leave. I thought you were supposed to stick close."

"I'm supposed to make sure these girls don't have any trouble. If you're here, Rock is sure to keep an eye on the table."

"He's been doing that anyway," Anna said. "Older guy, about thirty-five. Six-two, two-forty, solid as a rock – hence the name? Chin-length hair like Eddie's."

"That's him," Tony said, giving her an odd look. "But no one's supposed to notice. He's our shadow man, sort of a hidden reserve in case of real trouble: he stays in the background, and even a lot of the regulars don't know him."

"He's not obvious," she reassured him. "He moves around a lot, but he hardly says two words to anybody but staff. He almost never looks this way, but he keeps a clear line of sight to our table."

"Good eyes. I'll be right back."

After he left, Anna asked Adrienne, "Why are undercover policemen the scum of the earth?"

"Because, I swear, if a cop is a total washout at anything else, if he can't even make out a traffic ticket right, he ends up in Vice. Maybe not the drug guys, but the ones who come to places like this, for sure. It's totally undemanding work, and an easy way to hike up your arrest record; arrestees never run or fight, and you can get away with running someone in on the least suspicion. Most of them are creeps a girl here wouldn't waste a smile on outside these walls."

"They've just got a job to do; why the hostility?"

"You wouldn't ask if you'd seen what I have. These guys are all wife beaters. Not really, I suppose, but they have the most despicable attitudes about the girls in here, as if we're all whores and sluts who deserve anything we get." Her mouth thinned to a line. "One time in another club, I watched these two Crocketts at a table by the stage playing scissors-paper-rock while they watched this girl doing her number. As soon as she was naked down to her footie socks, they jumped up. The guy who lost the game walked across the room to arrest a girl at the bar. The winner arrested the girl on stage – cuffed her hands behind her back right there, with the music still playing, and led her out of the building into the back of his car. She rode like that all the way downtown, with other motorists staring at her and the cop in the front seat making comments nonstop. He threw his trenchcoat over her shoulders at the station as he was leading her in and booked her on 'suspicion of prostitution'. They didn't have a thing on her. The girl at the bar was the real suspect; the girl on stage was just for fun." She shook her head. "They pay pricks like that fifty grand a year, to show assholes with crucifix lapel pins and voter blocs that the City's enforcing the blue laws."

"Gee. Maybe I should give one of them a massage." The little blonde grinned evilly. "Someone would have to carry him out afterwards."

Tony reappeared from the hallway, went to the bar, and leaned across it to speak to a tall black man, who nodded gravely and spoke to another bartender. The second man left the bar and went into the hallway. Then Tony spoke to Rock. Rock's fist clenched and relaxed as Tony talked; the big man nodded and spoke a few words.

Anna's smile disappeared. "Something's happening, but it's okay. We're not in danger."

Adrienne gave her an odd look and glanced around, taking in all the activity. "What is it? Every guy on staff is stirred up about something."

"I think we're all about to find out."

Tony came back to them, leaned over the table, and laid several currency notes on the tabletop in front of Caitlin.

"What's this?"

"Your cover. And all your drinks are on the house, anything you want." He looked around the table. "Sam wants me to tell you that he's very sorry for causing you ladies any distress." He looked at Roxy. "And he'd like to apologize to you in person, abjectly. But if you want to hear it, you'd better see him soon, before his mouth swells up any more."

"Tony!" Sarah's almond eyes were so wide they were almost round. "It wasn't worth losing your job over."

"Opinions vary. But I don't think I need to worry about that. If Sam's stupid enough to tell…" He shrugged. "If Eric ever fires me, he won't stick a pink slip in my pay envelope, he'll do it face to face. And when I tell him his brother's been using the job he gave him to build a stalker file, it won't be me losing a job."

Stalker file? Kat looked around the table; her housemates wore the same puzzled expression, but Adrienne had the same look as when she'd described the vice cops.

"While I was having my little chat with Sam, I had a look around the booth. I found a stack of copies this thick." He spread his thumb and forefinger an inch apart. "Maybe he did it for the reason he said, but no inspector would think to ask, and he never volunteered them, or I'd know about it. And maybe it's just a coincidence that, besides being on the young side, they're all good-looking girls with out-of-town addresses. Will's putting them through the office shredder right now." His eyes locked with Sarah's. "This was a very big deal, believe me. Decent girls won't visit or work in a club where they have to worry about some perv following them home. Places like this, a sexual predator of any kind on the payroll is the freaking Antichrist. Bad enough we got to let some in the door." He gazed deliberately at a table where two men sat, and she suddenly knew who the undercover policemen were.

"I doubt he went any further than daydreaming about looking those girls up. Even so, if word got out, this place would close, hard. Every guy who works here would spend some time downtown answering nasty questions. The girls would be okay, they'd find work at other clubs. But every guy here would be guilty by virtue of gender. No other club would take a chance on us, thinking maybe we knew and turned a blind eye. The only places that would hire us would be… cesspits where the dancers turn tricks in the toilet stalls." He looked at them all. "So, speaking for all the males working here but one, thank you for telling us, and giving us a chance to make it right."

"Tony," Roxy said, "if I didn't already have a boyfriend, my number would be in your hand this instant."

"Mine too," Anna put in. "You're a keeper."

Sarah smiled. "Ditto." The three of them looked at Kat expectantly; Tony looked away, embarrassed.

She shrugged. "My number's the same as Roxy's, Tony. Long distance, though."

"Sure," he said. "International call, maybe."

"And with that," Adrienne said as she stood up, "I think it's time for that dance I promised you. Yesterday, at dinner." Instead of going into a routine, she extended a hand. In a voice just loud enough to be heard over the music, she said, "Take my hand. It's customary to lead a client to the room."

Kat stood slowly, feeling very uncomfortable and self-conscious, as if every eye in the place was turned towards her. Adrienne's head tilted up, maintaining eye contact, a smile touching her face. "It always takes me by surprise when you stand up, how tall you are." The older girl took her hand and led her towards one of the bead curtains.

"Do you do this very often?"

"Have heart-to-hearts with my ex's girlfriends?" She grinned over her shoulder at her. "Or dance for other girls?"

"Either."

"Never. Two firsts in one." They passed through the curtain. "This isn't easy for me either, you know. I've been thinking for hours about it. If I'd had your number, I might have called it off."

The room was rectangular, and the doorway opened at one end of a long wall. A large overstuffed couch stood against the short wall at the other end. The floor and walls were carpeted; the music came in through the doorway, but voices weren't likely to travel out before being absorbed. The lighting was soft and intimate, dimmer than the room outside, and the couch was hidden from the doorway unless someone stuck their head in.

Adrienne said, "This is about as private as we get around here. We can do this at a coffee shop after work, if you'd rather."

"No. I've been having second thoughts too. If I postpone…"

"Okay. Let's take a seat."

Adrienne waited for her to settle into one end of the couch, and then stepped toward one of the small tables flanking the couch and was about to put her purse on it when Connor, the security chief, poked his head in. "You got customers asking for you, Adrienne."

Adrienne's back was to the doorway, and her purse was hidden from his view by her body; she opened the clasp and snapped it shut loudly before setting it on the table. "I'm with a customer, Connor." She tugged on the tie of her robe and let it fall to the floor. "Do you mind?"

He looked from Adrienne to her and back again. "Uh, sorry." He withdrew.

"Sorry," Adrienne said. "He's never done that before. Nerves, do you suppose, or curiosity?" The woman's amused expression fell away when she looked at her face. "What's wrong?"

The robe had been just opaque enough to hide the details of what Adrienne wore underneath. The garment she wore next to her skin was a sheer lacy two-piece confection that concealed not a single detail of her figure; a coat of paint would have hidden more. She looked down at herself. "Ah. I forget what this must look like. Kat, when you're working, your skin is just another costume. Even the guys on staff don't notice. I could pass one in the back hall naked, and later he'd remember if I was chewing gum before he'd recall what I was wearing." She grinned. "Have to remind myself that most women never get naked in front of a stranger their whole lives." She turned her head towards the doorway. "I bet he'll poke his head in one more time, just to make sure I'm working; after that, he'll leave us alone until we come out."

Adrienne took up a position just in front of Caitlin's knees and began moving to the music. "Like I said, I've been thinking about this little talk, trying to decide how much to say, how to avoid coming across as a bitter woman. You don't need that. Anna doesn't talk much, does she?"

The abrupt change of subject took her off-balance. "Well, actually, she's usually a little chatterbox. But we're in a strange environment, and sometimes she takes the den-mother thing pretty seriously."

"Where on earth did she see action? I'd swear she's too small for any branch of service, and I know they'd never put her in a combat unit."

Her unease ratcheted up about six notches. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, she's got the look. Even when she's taking a drink or laughing at a joke, her eyes never stop moving; she sweeps the whole room about twice a minute, looking for trouble. Just like Danny, every time he came back from overseas. First word of advice, Kat: if he changes his mind about another tour, don't drive with him the first week back home. He won't take the same route twice to anywhere, not even a store three blocks away. Or a route that brings him in view of a building more than one story tall if he can avoid it. He'll floor it going under overpasses. He'll look at every pedestrian as if he's got a gun, and he'll creep up to a light to avoid stopping. And if he has to stop, he won't get within two lengths of the car in front of him. He must go through hell over there, especially when he's just back from leave."

"You… sound like you still care about him."

"I still love him. But marrying him was a mistake I wouldn't make again." The woman stepped closer, between her knees, and continued, moving sinuously to the music while she spoke in a casual voice suited to a coffee-table conversation. "If I could go back in time, I'd let him get me pregnant, and then leave him without any warning, crying buckets I'm sure, and move to Canada."

"So you could keep Drew."

"Exactly." Her fingers made silent snapping motions at her sides. "You know, my gaydar's pretty good, usually. I spotted Sarah before you guys sat down. Just from her walk as she came down the hallway, I'd have known she was gay, and probably a dominant partner, even though she looks like a queenie. But when she moved through the crowd, the shoulders stopped swinging and suddenly she was walking hipshot as a runway model. She's either bi with a strong bias towards women, or one of those rare lesbians who like to dicktease. Does she really have a boyfriend? A boy boyfriend?"

"Bobby. They're tighter than tight, but… they sleep together, but they don't do it. Trying makes her physically ill, but she does anyway. Nobody can figure them out."

"Wow. Well, Roxy's got 'boy toy' written all over her; boyfriend or no boyfriend, I bet Tony's got her number by the end of the night. Anna seems straight, but the way she studies the girls on stage makes me wonder."

"Uh, Anna thinks her husband invented sex, and still holds the patent. If she's checking out other girls, she's looking for new tricks to use on him later." That didn't hurt a bit, now, did it? "She didn't have any women around when she was young, so she's sort of learning how as she goes along. Really, we're her first girlfriends ever."

"What was she, camp whore to a bunch of survivalists? That would explain everything." Once again, Adrienne's smile disappeared after a glance at her face. "Jeez. I was joking."

"Actually," she said carefully, "she probably would have preferred that. I can't talk about it."

"Okay. That leaves you, Kat. I have to say, you're a lot more uncomfortable right now than I'd expected. Watching me dance was your idea, after all. Are you a closet prude, or is it something else?"

"It's something else."

The other woman raised an eyebrow. "No need to be ashamed. They say most women have a little of it in them, and I'm inclined to agree." She bumped knees with her as she moved.

"It's not that. I'm looking at you like this, and I can't help imagining you with Daniel. And then I imagine me with Daniel."

She stilled. "Oh."

"Ever since I came in here with you, it's as if I accidentally stumbled into his bedroom, with him right behind me. I really don't feel ready for that."

"You haven't done it with him yet?"

She dropped her head. "I…"

"Kat. You're not a…"

"It's not a disease, Adrienne. I just never found the right guy."

"There's no such thing, sugar," she said gently, sitting beside her and taking her hand. "Not for a first time."

"Maybe. But it should at least be someone you can trust. Someone you know won't put a notch on his headboard afterwards."

"I'll be damned. Does he know?"

She shrugged. "I'm sure no one's told him."

Adrienne breathed, "You're perfect for him. A goddess of virtue. He'll worship you."

"That doesn't sound like the path to love."

"You are a perfectionist, aren't you? There are plenty of times I would have settled for worship. Or even a little respect." She took a deep breath. "I promised myself I wasn't going to sound like a pissed-off ex. Danny would be an outstanding match for the right girl; I just wasn't the right girl."

"And what would make you think I'm the right girl?"

"Well, for starters, what you see in the mirror every day. If you haven't figured it out, I met Danny in a club while I was working. I'd got my first Playboy spread at eighteen, before I started dancing. I was fairly new to the business. He was a player, all full of charm and looking so heroic in uniform. He talked me into a date."

"That's not reassuring."

"How about this, then. After the second date, he never saw another girl. And I'd bet my life he never cheated while we were married, at least not until I said I wanted to call it quits, and maybe not even then." The corner of her mouth twitched. "When he's with you, he sure acts like he hasn't had any in a long while. I wouldn't be surprised if he tries to keep you at arm's length until he signs the divorce papers. Then, girlfriend, you'd better decide whether he's going to be your first – quick."

"That's one reason I'm here. Another is... you think he stayed faithful to you from second date to divorce. Well and good, but I need… a deeper loyalty, Adrienne. And I can't risk betrayal."

Daniel's ex knitted her brows together. "What are you asking me, Kat?"

"I know he re-upped while you were married. Did you ask him not to?"

She shook her head, tawny locks bouncing off her shoulders from the vehemence of it. "I thought it was pointless; The guys in his family are career military for four generations. If I'd imagined he'd bail out after two terms, I would have."

She swallowed. "What else wouldn't he do for you?"

Adrienne was silent for several seconds, looking at her. "So it's his heart and soul you want?" Her eyelids drooped almost closed. "Then I've got nothing to tell you. If I had the key to that lock, we'd still be married."

"You heard about his new job. When he first told me about it, he seemed as happy as a kid with a new toy. But we're going to be working for rival firms, Adrienne, and the competition isn't friendly. I want to know how much strain it's going to put on the relationship – or if it's going to make things impossible at the outset."

"These two firms. Do they spy on each other? Sabotage each other?"

"Yes and yes. It's been downright bloody in the past. The firms have completely different operating principles. Each of them thinks they're the good guys, and they're just keeping the other guys from doing something disastrous." She permitted herself a small smile. "But the people who hired him are jerks. Seriously."

Adrienne looked away. "His loyalty is one of his most endearing traits; if he's taking their money, this… new firm would have to really abuse that loyalty to lose it. And he'd still soldier on, if he thought the cause was right, even if he lost faith in his employer. But he won't betray you to them. Just don't ask him to betray them to you. You can keep secrets from him, if you're up front about it; he understands security. But don't try to deceive him. If you can do that, you can count on him to do the same for you."

"If his bosses find out we're dating, I'm certain it'll mean big trouble for him."

"Does he understand that?"

"I've told him. If he doesn't believe it now, he will soon."

"It won't matter; he's already made his decision. He won't dump you to make his boss happy."

"What if they tell him my firm's working against the national interest?" At the woman's look she said, "I told you it was a cutthroat rivalry."

Adrienne seemed to be thinking it over. "Tell him your side, and let him choose. Until then, don't put anything damaging in his hands. Beyond that, I can't say. But he won't let go of you easily, I can tell." She sighed. "A bigger threat to your relationship may be his dad."

"Andy? How?"

The curtains parted, and Connor's head poked in. "Everything okay here?"

"Yes, Connor." Adrienne fiddled with her top, as if she were having trouble getting it back on. "Everything's fine." After he left, she said, "You don't want to get on his dad's bad side. Danny adores him, and he goes to him for advice on everything. When things started going bad between Danny and me, Andy made sure they never got better; that when we hurt each other, the wounds never closed."

"He seemed plenty nice, if a bit… I think the word is 'chauvinistic.'"

"You saw him at his best. And why not? You're exactly what he wants in a daughter-in-law. You're gorgeous, smart, and you make a good living using what's between your ears, so his son can have all the goodies for himself." She stood and picked up her robe. "I won't lay the blame at anyone's doorstep. There are a few places I might have made a different decision and made a difference." She slipped the garment on and tied it off. "But then I wouldn't have been me." She sat back down.

"Andy thought I was the greatest when Danny and I were dating, mainly because his son wasn't sleeping around anymore, I think now. The attitude changed when Danny asked me to marry him. Apparently, a stripper girlfriend was just fine, but an ex-stripper wife wasn't good enough for his boy. And when the two of them realized I wasn't going to quit… except for about five minutes when Drew was born, he was never cordial again.

"It wasn't just Andy's attitude, though. Guess we should have discussed it before I said yes, but we both made some wrong assumptions: Danny thought that as soon as we were married, my body was for him alone to enjoy; I thought, since he met me when I was dancing, he wouldn't have any problem with my career choice. Our first argument about that set the tone for our whole marriage. And when we filed our first joint return, they were both outraged that I made more money than Dan. Lots more. A woman selling her body shouldn't prosper, apparently. And the looks on their faces when they saw that I'd itemized my implants and my memberships at the gym and tanning salon!"

"You didn't."

"Legitimate job expense under IRS guidelines. All I had to do was document an increase in my income as a direct result, which wasn't hard." She pressed her lips together briefly. "I suppose I could have quit, but I was just getting used to better clothes and such, and I wasn't ready to switch to living in base housing and making ends meet on Danny's pay. Also, I thought of adult entertaining as a career, a good career, and I resented my husband and father-in-law acting as if it were something any decent person would abandon first chance they got.

"So I kept dancing and making money and putting it by, because Danny refused to let me throw it in the pot; we had to run the household on just his money, even if it took everything he made. Then I got pregnant and quit, and they thought they had me domesticated finally. When Drew was born, they both had steam shooting out their ears when I told Dan I wanted to go back to work when the baby was old enough to leave with a sitter. And his dad set up that trust fund so my dirty money wouldn't be putting Drew through college. As if the money they'd paid him while he was killing Cambodian villagers was so much cleaner. It made me sorry I let Danny talk me into naming our only child after the self-righteous bastard.

"After five years, I'd had enough of the endless bickering. I told Danny on his last leave that I wanted out. I was still keeping his house, but I was just waiting for him to rotate back before I filed; it didn't seem right to divorce him while he was overseas. If I knew then what I know now, I'd have been in Ontario with Drew before he came back.

"Anyway, sugar, you look like the girl of his dreams, and he'll stand by you, so long as you don't betray his causes or his prejudices, and you stay on the right side of his old man. If you can do that, Danny will do anything for you, and so will Andy. You'll have to decide for yourself if you can fit in their mold, and if it's worth the effort."

She nodded. "Kay. There's something else I wanted to ask you about. Did you ever dance in Memphis?"

"For about two weeks, maybe two-three years ago. Special engagement."

"It's a long shot, but did you meet a couple of girls there: twins, black? Palling with a white girl, shorter, brown hair?" Reaching, she added, "They might not have been dancing then, just waiting tables."

Adrienne shook her head. "I'd remember, I'm sure. Do you know the name of the club?" She cocked her head. "Are you trying to get in touch with them?"

"No." I already know where they are. "But we're out of touch, and I can't ask. I was just wondering what it was like for them."

Adrienne shrugged. "Hard to say. Not all clubs are like this."

"I heard."

"And even if the club is legit, a girl doesn't necessarily make much money. Keep what they earn, rather. Plenty of owners have pretty inventive ways to separate dancers from their take. Most clubs charge them some kind of fee up front, like turning over the proceeds from the first two dances, or buying a minimum number of drinks at inflated prices. Eric doesn't do that - one reason I work here, and recommend Arena's to good dancers."

Something seemed to have changed in the main room beyond the curtain. The background noise from the clientele seemed different, almost hushed; it reminded her of the boys watching a football kickoff on TV. Even the announcer's faint voice had a different quality to it as he said. "On our stage now… Cheetah." Not a single hand clap followed the announcement. Something strange was going on.

The music came up, and that seemed different too. Up until now, it seemed all the music had been of a type: deep bass notes, a vague beat, a breathy female vocalist murmuring about passion. This song was an instrumental, with a lot of electronic elements and a beat as insistent as the one inside her chest, rising and falling but clear and present. It sounded as if it belonged in another sort of club, one with flashing lights and a packed dance floor.

"She wouldn't." Caitlin jumped up and headed for the doorway.

"Kat?" Adrienne's startled voice followed her out. "What's wrong?"

She parted the curtains, and Anna slid in front of her. "Only her jacket and shoes. She promised."

Roxanne was already on the runway, about ten feet from the pole, dancing. It was the first time Kat had seen anyone on stage actually keeping time to the music, and her sister's movements were sinuous and graceful and sexy as all get out, if she was any judge. Kat recognized what Roxy called her "while-your-boyfriend's-watching" routine, the moves she only did at home. Her movements were in time to the music, but half a beat behind, as if the music was pulling her along in its current. Her eyes were softly closed, her expression rapt. And the audience was completely silent.

"Anna. Why didn't you stop her?"

"How, exactly? Knock her unconscious?"

Roxanne's idea of "modest dress" had consisted partly of a pair of tight hip-huggers that ended at mid-calf, combined with heelless slip-on shoes. She was already barefoot. Kat suddenly realized that she had no idea what her sister was wearing under her bulky old leather jacket.

She was about to find out. Roxy rolled her head and shoulders in a supple movement, and the jacket slid off her shoulders like a sheet of water, as if by accident. She caught it as it gathered around her wrists and dropped it off the stage in a smooth motion; underneath, she was wearing a silky white camisole-style top that tucked into her pants. It clung to her and revealed her bra's purple spaghetti straps.

"What are we going to do?" She said softly.

"Do?" Adrienne's voice was behind her.

"It's like a tomb out there. As soon as they get tired of waiting for her to strip, they'll boo her off the stage."

"Kat," the older girl said, "use your eyes."

She did. The audience was still, intent; one man had a glass raised almost to his lips, unmoving. Every male eye was fastened on the stage.

Adrienne went on, "Looks to me like she's giving them exactly what they want, though I bet they didn't know it until they got it. Your little sister's a natural."

Caitlin leaned towards Anna. "Allure?"

"Near full power. The little exhibitionist is having the time of her life."

"What do you think, Tony? Tony?" Sarah took the man's chin in her hand.

"Sorry," he said, not taking his eyes from the stage. "Since you all walked in, every guy in the place has been wondering. Waiting to see if any of you'd get up on stage tonight. It was worth the wait. Definitely."

Her little sister stretched her arms over her head, pulling her shirt out of her pants seemingly unnoticed. She rocked her hips in time to the music as she did fractional turns, giving the whole audience a look at her from every angle. She brought one hand down to her stomach and slid it back up as high as her sternum, taking the bottom of the cami with it and exposing her flexing abs, shining with a mist of perspiration, and the bottom hem of her lacy purple bra. As she turned, you could see that the garment was lifted out of her pants in back too; the shoestring-sized straps of her matching purple thong rode high on her slender hips, bobbing with her motion. Without revealing as much of her figure as she would at the beach, she was letting every man in the place see her in her underwear, making him imagine her undressed, naked. She seemed oblivious to the way she was exposing herself, too carried away by the animal pleasure of dancing to notice.

"Damn," Tony said. "Did I say 'dirty little thrill'? I feel like I'm peeking in her window."

Kat felt a flush spread on her neck. She reminded herself that her little sister knew exactly what she was doing. And had probably planned it before she'd left the house.

Roxy's eyes snapped wide open, a sleepwalker waking from a dream of pleasure and not sure where she was. She turned all around the room, as if trying to get her bearings, still dancing in time to the music, and the sound of the crowd was like a steam locomotive coming to rest.

Then her expression changed; she still seemed caught up in the music, but now she was fully aware of her audience, making eye contact with men all over the room as she turned and moved to the beat. Like all the performers, she was broadcasting a message without words to every male in the room, but hers was unique. The professionals' message was: you seem nice. Let's have some fun; the amateurs', mostly, had been: how am I doing, do you like me? Roxanne's was: do you think you could handle this? Are you man enough?

Men began drifting towards the stage, filling every seat and standing between the tables. Most were reaching for their wallets.

Suddenly the music broke into a long percussion and guitar riff, doubling the tempo of the music. Roxanne burst into movement. Her moves were part gymnastics, part ballet, and part martial-arts moves she'd learned from Eddie and Mr. Lynch: the combination made her look graceful and dangerous and sexy. She dropped to the stage in a one-eighty split, one leg stretched out behind, one in front. She held the pose for just a second, and popped straight up again. She performed a somersault that sent her legs windmilling over her head, her hands never touching the stage, and drew gasps and chatter from the crowd.

"Limber little wildcat, isn't she?" Anna spoke, imitating several men's voices. "Good thing in a small package, man. 'Cheetah.' Right. It'd be like sharin your sheets with a mountain lion."

Roxy took a running leap at the pole and swung around and around on it at head height, first with her hands, then with her legs, twisting and changing position, never sliding down as she shifted from one pose to the next… as if she were defying gravity.

"Could squeeze you in half with those…" Anna said, her voice still man-deep. "Yeah, but you'd die happy."

Tony's eyes were glued to the stage. "If this wasn't Amateur Night, she'd be coming off that stage booked solid for the night." He glanced at her. "You're not dancers. I know."

A little smile touched the corners of Sarah's mouth. "You know, I'm almost jealous."

He gave her the same smoky look he'd given Roxy earlier. "Don't be. Fun as she is to watch, I'd rather it was you up there."

"Well." Sarah made a fanning motion, returning the look.

The song ended in a crash of electronic percussion. Roxy slid down the pole and stood looking out at the crowd, which erupted in shouts, applause, and whistles. Two dozen arms stretched across the stage, almost surrounding her, money in hand. Suddenly her sister looked like a young girl again, and alarmed at her predicament.

"Tony," Adrienne said in a warning tone, but the big man was already moving towards the stage, as was Rock. She turned to the other girls and said, "Amateur rules are different. They don't know the legal restrictions, and it's easy to get carried away or just cross the line without knowing it. Nobody wants to see these girls end their night onstage with a trip downtown." She nodded towards the two vice cops, who were also waving money, almost brushing Roxanne's thigh with the bills. "Almost nobody. So they can't dance anywhere but on stage, no physical contact allowed, and any money comes to them through a staff member."

The big men opened a path to the stage. Tony beckoned her to the edge. The men surrounding the stage hooted and cheered as Tony put his hands around her waist, lifted her off the stage, and set her on the floor. She flushed with pleasure as she leaned against the raised platform. Rock collected the offered money. A very few of the patrons tried to put the cash back away once they realized they weren't going to be able to touch her, but Rock stared them down until they gave up their offerings. The big man offered the wad of cash to her as if it was a bouquet, bending over her as the announcer said, "How bout that, fellas? Give it up… for… Cheetah!" The crowd broke into applause again, shaking the walls.

Both guards escorted her to her table and seated her. Tony set her shoes on the floor by her feet and draped her jacket around her shoulders like a cape. "We've got an hour to go," Rock said in a gravelly voice. "Six or eight more girls, and I bet they all go down to skin trying to catch up. But every guy in this place knows the contest's over. Come with me a minute, Tony."

Roxanne sat with the money still clutched to her, looking overwhelmed. "Thank you for inviting us, Adrienne," she said in a child's voice. "I'm having a wonderful time."

Kat leaned close to her sister's ear and said, "Not to burst your bubble, but the contest doesn't end until midnight." She glanced at her watch. "In fact, we've got to leave soon."

Roxy looked at her, stricken. "No." Her glance shifted to Anna.

Adrienne said, smiling, "What's wrong? Do you all turn into mice at the stroke of twelve?" When no one answered or smiled, she grew serious. "It'll take until twelve-thirty or so to pick the winner. She'll have to strut out on stage, maybe several times, so the crowd can vote by applause. Winners have to accept in person. It's the rules. Do you really have to go?"

"You're all together, and you're with me," Anna said quietly. "Jack wouldn't drop the hammer on anybody, Caitlin."

"Bad precedent." She thought of Keeley, Julie, and Kara. This is how it happened, with a standing ovation... and a phone call. "Besides… I've got a bad feeling, suddenly. I don't know what I was thinking, bringing us all here. Getting up on stage was just plain crazy."

"She was having fun, and she brought the house down." Adrienne's face clouded. "Please don't tell me he's got to you already." Her mouth twitched.

Anna jumped up and grabbed at Adrienne's hand. Grinning, she tugged the woman towards one of the beaded curtains. "My turn. Come on. This could be the start of a new sideline for you." Adrienne followed reluctantly, casting a quick over-the-shoulder glance at her. They disappeared behind a curtain, leaving the three girls shrugging at one another.

...

"Don't," Anna said as they passed through the curtains. "Just sit. You looked like you might cry. That would be bad, I think. The girls here should never look unhappy; it would destroy the illusion."

"Yes. Thanks. They would have been angry tears, but you're right." She sat heavily. Anna sat beside her.

"Just so you know, Caitlin doesn't have a hypocritical bone in her body. She likes you, and she's not the least bit ashamed of what you do for a living. In fact, I'm sure she wishes she had your confidence; she's always been self-conscious about her looks. She has other reasons to get nervous about her little sister appearing on that stage."

Adrienne looked the little blonde over. "That was just a story about Andy, wasn't it? Where do you really know him from?"

"I think you guessed already. We worked together for over a year, at the same 'security firm.'"

"You're all spooks? You and Kat and Andy?"

She nodded. "And Dan, soon."

"I thought Andy got out of it years ago."

"He did. I'm older than I look."

"You must bathe in Botox, then." She looked critically at Anna's smooth, pale face. "Or… facial reconstruction, maybe?"

"Clever girl. Almost everything you're looking at is artificial; Andy almost didn't recognize me when we met again. Let's let it go at that."

"What's really going on?"

"Dan and Caitlin are in a budding romance. It's very dangerous for both of them, and potentially heartbreaking for her."

"She told me."

"Andy and I are getting chummy after a long separation. He thinks he owes me something."

"Oh?"

The little blonde's face became a mask. "He betrayed me to the enemy. I was a prisoner for six years. He didn't realize what he'd done at the time. But whatever else he is, Andrew Grissom is a man of conscience. I find his remorse useful." She smiled, in a way that didn't seem friendly or reassuring at all. "As well as his inclination to jump my bones."

"Useful?"

She nodded. "Yes. I use Andy's influence over Dan to keep a leash on him. Unless he's willing to give her what she wants, that young wolf isn't getting his paws on my girl, let him sniff around her and pant all he wants."

Wondering, she said, "You're playing him."

"Like a violin."

"You just made my day. How do you do it?"

"Guilt and lust, like I said. It's easy, really; you just have to know which buttons to push, and how hard. I never miss a chance to tell him it wasn't his fault, not really – but I make sure he knows how horrible the experience was, how it scarred me. As for the other, I act as if being around him is a constant test of my fidelity, and if he pushed the issue, he could have me – even though I'm crazy in love with my husband, and would hate myself forever if I cheated on him just once. For Andy, it's almost better than screwing me."

Adrienne grinned. "Oh, this is just too good. Andy. Who'd have thought it? It warms me all over, thinking about him going to bed alone with aching balls and a smile on his face. Dan too, shame on me."

"Caitlin doesn't know."

"She won't hear it from me."

"Good. There's something else. Word is you're opening your own club."

She shook her head. "Not soon. I want to stay close to Drew, and the market around here's not big enough. I don't want to set up anywhere near Eric."

"What about Temecula, or Murrieta? The travel time would be about the same."

"Not for the customers. Population density's too low. Even the traffic from Pendleton wouldn't make up for it. To set up there, I'd have to have someplace special, a real tourist destination. I've got money saved, half a million, but it's not enough to start up an operation like that. I'd need a sizable cash cushion, while I make mistakes and learn from them." She gave Anna a sour look. "And I'm not likely to get it from a bank. Good credit or no, everybody knows strippers have no head for business."

Anna leaned towards her. "If you want, I can arrange a loan for you, any amount you need."

Adrienne lowered her voice. "What interest?"

"Zero."

She frowned. "Why?"

"The investor I'm thinking of is always looking for ways to shelter money. And before you ask, it's clean. He just prefers diversity and liquidity in his portfolio over income, and he has a limited amount of faith in banks and brokers."

"What does he know about running a club?" She said uneasily.

"Nothing. But it won't be a problem, because he'll be a totally silent partner. I don't think he'll even set foot in the club. You'd pay him back with a percentage of your net, and I don't think he'll want to put his nose in your books, either. It should be much easier than servicing a bank loan. You might find the payment arrangements odd. He's eccentric."

She said carefully, "He wouldn't be looking for some other kind of interest, would he? I couldn't do that, and neither would any girls I hire. No 'private parties' or 'special shows' or 'escort duties.'"

"He'd better not," the little blonde said with a smile, a warm and genuine one that made her look like a young girl. "He's my husband."

"Why would you do this? You hardly know me."

"Caitlin likes you. And you're good to her. She doesn't have many girlfriends, you can imagine. So, do you want an introduction? There's no hurry."

Adrienne nodded. "I'd be crazy not to."

"Good. You'll like Jack. He's like Dan and Andy, but way more liberal-minded. By the way. I doubt Andy ever shot a Cambodian villager. I know what sort of mischief his employer was up to at the time. His first assignment was more likely an Afghan warlord and opium exporter. After that, he probably spent some time in Central America, taking on revolutionary groups financing their glorious struggle by selling cocaine to American dealers. Then a stint in Europe or Japan, making the Red Brigades an endangered species. Or maybe making sure the Red Army soldiers who were selling the buttons off their coats at the time weren't 'losing' anything radioactive. Then a little time in the Middle East somewhere; there's always something to do there. He'd have come back to the States about the time Dan was hearing his country's call. What he did here before he retired, I won't even hint at." She smiled. "He's a self-righteous bastard, no doubt. But the world's a better place because of him."

Sarah, leaning against Tony once again, pulled her eyes from the naked girl on stage, and watched Adrienne and Anna emerge from the private room. Adrienne was looking slightly dazed, but Anna had a self-satisfied expression she only wore when she'd knocked the props out from under somebody. "I'm about this close to taking her in there myself." She hooked an arm through Tony's elbow. "Do the bouncers ever dance for female patrons?"

He colored. "Uh, not in the club." Then he smiled. "I'd expect you to reciprocate."

"I wouldn't waste your time. The only dances I know, I do around a fire. No joke."

Kat looked pointedly at her watch. "Speaking of time. It took us an hour to get here. You know how Anna hates freeways." When the two women reached the table, she said, "It's time to go. Thanks for everything, Adrienne. I know we all had a great time."

Every male eye in the club followed them as they headed for the entrance, escorted by Tony and Adrienne. Roxanne blew kisses to the vice cops.

The ticket booth was occupied, but not by Sam. The new man resembled him, but looked younger, with a dark, neatly trimmed goatee.

Tony said, "Somebody told you."

"You really thought nobody would?" The man stepped through the doorway next to the window and met them in the hall. He looked at Roxanne critically. "Between the shakeup and the show you put on, little girl, you've given us a pretty exciting night." He took her hand without shaking it.

"Roxanne, meet Eric. He owns the club."

"And I'm gonna be spending more time running it from now on, I'm thinking." He looked the rest of them over, his gaze including Adrienne in their group. "Ladies, you're all welcome back here anytime, alone or in any combination. Leave your money at home." He met Adrienne's eyes. "And if any of you is ever interested, you've all got open job offers."

"They're not dancers." Tony grinned.

"Uh huh." He let go of Roxy's hand and took Adrienne's, still looking directly into her eyes. "Adrienne, you're the best. You put this place on the map, and I won't forget. Good luck, darling. If you ever need anything, you come see me." He brushed the back of her hand with his lips.

She pulled his beard. "What are you doing, Eric? Firing me?"

He glanced towards the four of them. "I thought…"

"You think I'd leave without training a replacement, at least? Just walk out the door and leave you swinging? Men. Eric, I'm not going anywhere, not for a while, anyway. These are some girlfriends of mine from out of town. They just came to visit." Adrienne grinned at her. "What'd I tell you? He really thought I was walking out the door with you, dressed like this."

"So they're not dancers?"

"Not tonight, they're not. And they're not here to help me start a club. In fact, they're heading back home right now."

He looked at Roxy. "Contest's not over. I'm sure you'll win, but I can't give you the money if you don't stay till the end."

"It's okay." Amusement glittered in Roxy's violet eyes. "Wouldn't be ethical. It's amateur money." Adrienne grinned at her.

"Tony," Eric said, "make sure these girls get to their car and off the property unmolested by… admirers. Lot security's a little thin right now. I sent Connor home with Sam."

Tony lowered his chin. "You didn't need to do that, Eric. I was done with him."

"I wasn't. Connor will be leaving with Sam's computer. Also his printer, cameras, and any discs he finds that might have pictures on them. Also any photos of women he doesn't recognize. It's gonna take a while; I expect he'll be very thorough. Sam's severance check should be just enough to put the place back together."

Adrienne gave her a hug. "Keep in touch, girlfriend. Anna's got my number. Let me know how things are going. I don't want to hear it first from him."

In the floodlit parking lot, one of the security men approached Tony. "What the hell's going on? After Connor takes off, a bunch of guys come out with their dates and jump in the back seats. They're spawning like salmon out here, swear to God."

Tony glanced at Roxanne, who gave him a blank look. "The contest was surpassing excellent tonight, man. The hormones are thick as soup in there." He took a deep breath, then gripped Sarah by the elbows and turned her to face him, not exactly holding her in his arms, but cradling her. He didn't fall to the ground with his hair smoking, so she must be okay with it, Caitlin thought. "If you didn't have a boyfriend, I'd steal a kiss right now."

She tipped her head up. "If I didn't have a boyfriend, it wouldn't be theft. But you know, I really have no use for men. Most of the time. Special circumstances."

"Well, you know what they say about gay chicks." He brushed his lips against hers. "They're the best kissers."

She pushed him away, smiling. "Thanks for everything. This night out was twice as nice because of you."

As they pulled out of the lot, Sarah broke into a dance as she bounced in the shotgun seat, moving her arms and bobbing her head. "Yes. Yes."

"What she lacks in skill, she makes up in enthusiasm," Roxanne said from the second seat. "Did I miss something? You didn't actually do anything, did you?"

"Doesn't matter. I feel like I did." Her little dance wound down, and she leaned her head against the window. "Ah. When I get home, I'm spending an hour in a hot tub. Then, when I'm sure he's asleep, I think I'll crawl into bed with my favorite man, buck naked, and see how long I can keep myself from waking him up."

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