I wish I had more time to talk to him, but I need this job. Keeping it is more important than flirting. Unfortunately for me.
The club is already busy, the dance floor packed with people under the rotating laser lights.
House music vibrates under my feet, and I weave through the crowd of people as quickly as I can.
I’m hoping that my drenched state will earn me some sympathy for being late.
I find the entrance exactly where he said it was, and luckily someone is coming out just then.
I use the opportunity to push inside the locker room.
The sounds of the club fade to almost silence behind me.
The locker room is huge and comfortable, and I see a bunch of go-go dancers getting ready for the next shift, and a few waitresses scattered throughout.
A harsh voice cuts across the room. “Are you Blue?” “Yeah, that’s me.”
A petite blonde woman comes over to me with a smile
. “I’m glad you’re here. I’m Rosie. I’m your supervisor. We’re a little understaffed tonight so I need to give you the rapid-fire orientation.” She hands me a pile of clothes.
“Okay. I’m really sorry I’m late. There was an accident on the highway, and it’s pouring.”
“Just don’t let it happen again.” She gives me a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes. “Come with me.” She leads me over to a locker in the corner and hands me a piece of paper.
“This is yours. The combination is on there, along with your personal safe code. Every employee has one so we know each time the safe is opened. If money is missing and your code was the one used, you’re gone.
That’s the first thing you need to know. “Got it?” “Got it.” I open the locker and shove my bag inside. “Is it okay if I dress while you talk?” “Be my guest.”
I peel my soaked shirt over my head, and hang it inside the locker.
I’m hoping it dries at least a bit before I head home later.
“Keep the cash from customers on you so you can make change. People order drinks from their stations and we bring them. If they haven’t paid by card—and most of them haven’t because they don’t want Club Deep on their billing statements—they’ll give you cash right then. You’ll drop that cash off at the end of the night with your code.
“Rule number two: No sex with clients on the clock. I don’t give a fuck what you do once you’ve punched out, but when you’re working, your time is my time. Number three: keep all the theme rooms stocked with supplies whenever you’re not serving—especially the orgy room. They use up a lot. And don’t interrupt any scenes that are taking place. Number four: wear gloves when you’re cleaning. That’s the down and dirty basics, the rest you can learn on the fly. That all sound good?”
Umm…okay? Why would I have sex at work?
She said something about an O.R.G. room. I need to figure out what that stands for later. Gloves, yes. Always smart. I nod, trying to absorb everything.
I’ve gotten on the low-slung black pants. They’re so tight that they feel like a second skin.
The top is barely more than a bra, black with extra decorative straps that hug across my skin.
They did tell me the uniform would be like this, but it’s a little strange now that I have it on.
There’s a mirror in the locker and I glance at it. There’s a reason they’ve chosen this. It looks sexy.
“You’ll get a second uniform later so you can swap them out,” Rosie says. “Take a couple minutes and then meet me at the bar.” “Okay.”
She leaves, and I fix my hair, wringing more water out of it. Wait…what? Everything she just said to me hits at once. No sex with clients? Oh my god. Orgy not O.R.G.
I realize that this is a very different club than I thought it was. This is a sex club.
I suppose it’s too late to turn back now.
But why would Gabriel be here?
He isn’t that type of person… l just don’t get it.
Coming out of the locker room, I look at the club with new eyes. Clubs look different in the daytime—dead and empty, nothing is what it seems. And I was rushing through too quickly the first time to really take this all in. It’s…not what I had thought.
I see now the roped off areas against the walls, filled with strange equipment and people in various stages of kinky sex. But it’s more than just that.
Rosie sees me and waves me over to the bar. “Here.” She hands me a plastic card while shouting over the music. “Keycard. It’ll let you into the locker room, stock room, and to restock the theme rooms even if they’ve been reserved or locked.” I nod. “Okay.”
“I actually want you to do that now. Come with me.”
We make our way across the dance floor to one of the staircases. Rosie leads me up .
“There are two stock rooms: upstairs and downstairs. It makes it easier to restock when you don’t have to carry tons of supplies up the stairs.”
The stock room is bright and clean, shelves filled with blankets, bottled water, chocolate bars, condoms, bottles of lube, and more. Rosie gestures to the computer in the corner and activates the screen with her finger.
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