Maureen scanned the want ads in front of her as she sat on the floor in Roger's loft.

"Any luck?" Roger called from the kitchen.

"You'd think that such a big city would have job offers left and right…"

Mark slid open the door to the loft. He set his camera down on the table and dropped his coat and scarf beside it.

"Hey, baby," he said.

"Hi, honey," Roger laughed.

"Very funny. Maureen?" he asked, going over to her. He bent down to kiss her head.

"Hmm? Oh, hi Pookie. I'm fine. Just looking for a job."

Maureen skimmed over the ads. One caught her attention.

Wanted: Exotic dancers. Previous dance experience is a plus, not necessary. Apply in person at the Cat Scratch Club.

Exotic dancer? She knew Mark and Roger would both throw a fit over that. Still, those girls always seemed to have money. And Maureen had plenty of dance experience. She stood up.

"Think I'm going to go check out a few of these," she said, strolling to her bedroom.

Mark and Roger nodded and went back to their conversation. She stood in front of her meager closet and wondered what the hell you should wear to a job interview at a strip club. She settled on a pair of slim black pants and a low-cut red sweater. Running a hand through her hair, she grabbed her purse and gave Mark a quick kiss goodbye.


The guy in charge of the club, Lucas, said she had a good body.

"You got a problem dancing?"

"I trained in ballet for seventeen years."

He raised an eyebrow. "Trained ballerina and you wanna be a dancer here?"

Maureen tried not to roll her eyes. "Look, I need a job. You need a dancer. You interested or not?"

"Well you definitely got the attitude to do it." Lucas glanced down at his watch. "Tell ya what, club doesn't open for another three hours. Why don't you go up on the stage there and let me see what you got?"

Maureen hesitated and bit her lip. "You want me to dance or what?"

Lucas chuckled. "Look I don't personally give a damn if you can dance. Half the broads that work here can't dance for shit. We ask for dancers so we get the good bodies in here. Get up there and let me see you in the bra and panties."

Maureen nodded, more confident now. She went to the stage and, without hesitating, slipped out of her pants and pulled her sweater over her head. Lucas nodded approvingly.

"Good. Good. Lean over."

Maureen did what he said, adding a little spin as she did.

"You got it. You can put the clothes back on."

Maureen dressed quickly, smiling, and rejoined Lucas at one of the tables.

"All right, you're hired. Now, we got some rules here. Whatever your costume is each night, you stay in it. No nudity or we'll get shut down. Guys ain't allowed to touch ya except to give tips. Whatever they tip you is yours, under the table. We don't like to see boyfriends in the club. Anybody harrassin' you, you let security know and they'll escort the creep out."

"What's the pay?"

"Twelve-fifty an hour, plus tips. You start tomorrow night. Be here at six to get ready. Get some black lingerie: bra, panties, garter, fishnets. Oh, and black heels. The girls will get ya set up with some other wardrobe choices next week. I'll have your schedule tomorrow."

"Thanks. Thanks a lot," she said, shaking his extended hand.

"Welcome to the Cat Scratch Club."


Fourmonths later, Maureen stumbled in late from the club. She hated her job: the catcalls, the drunks, the permanent smell of smoke and alcohol that seemed to cling to the air, and to top it all off, Maureen was pretty sure she was the only dancer not using coke or some other drug.

"Baby, that you?" Mark yawned from the couch.

"Yeah, it's me. Why didn't you go to bed, Pookie?"

Mark sat up, adjusting his glasses. "Just wanted to wait up for you. How's the world of bartending?"

She still hadn't told him or Roger about the Cat Scratch Club. Roger was always hanging out with April. April danced too but not the same days as Maureen and she was usually too stoned to recognize anybody. Mark, well, Mark she just couldn't tell. He was so sweet, so innocent. How could she tell him something like that?

Mark came over and gave her a quick hug and kiss. "I'm gonna just use the bathroom and then I'm heading to bed."

"Okay."

Maureen went to the bedroom they now shared and quickly shed the smoky clothes and lingerie. She slipped on one of Mark's old tee-shirts that hung halfway to her knees. She'd just slid under the blankets when Mark came in. He dropped his jeans to the floor and pulled a pair of sweatpants over his boxers. When he'd tugged a t-shirt on, he crawled in beside her.

"You okay, honey?" he asked, taking off his glasses.

"Yeah. Just a long night."

"Lot of drunks?"

"Yeah. Just a couple jerks who didn't get it when I cut them off."

Mark slipped his arms around her and Maureen's head went to his chest. "You know, if you want to quit, it's okay."

"Mark, we need the money."

"Not if it's making you unhappy. Besides, now that Roger's band is getting more gigs, I'm sure we'd be fine until you found something else."

"Really?"

"Yeah, absolutely. I overheard one of the waitresses at the Life talking about quitting. Maybe you could apply there."

"I just hate working there."

"And I only want you to be happy."

Maureen looked up at him, tears in her eyes. "I think you're the first person to say that to me."

"I mean it. And I'll support you whether you work at that stupid bar or not."

"I'm quitting tomorrow."

"Good," he said with a smile. He kept one arm around her and wiped her tears with the other. "No more tears, okay?"

Maureen smiled and leaned up to kiss him. Mark returned the kiss and rolled over, leaning over her.

"What?" she asked.

"What?" Mark laughed.

"You just…why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know. You've got a weird look on your face."

Mark smiled. "I just realized something."

"Oh yeah? And what's that?"

"I love you."

He leaned down and kissed her softly. Maureen slipped her arms around his neck deepening the kiss. "I love you too," she whispered.


The next day, Maureen quit the Cat Scratch Club. Lucas was already interviewing some new girl by the time Maureen left. She was younger than Maureen, a gorgeous Latina. Maureen patted her arm as she left.

"Good luck."

"Thanks," the girl said.

On her way back to the loft, Maureen stopped at the Life Café. A sign in the window caught her eye. Help Wanted.