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intriguing. Her skirt, very short and beige, looked like silk, too. Classy, in
a weird way. Her legs were bare, long, perfect. They went on forever and
disappeared beneath the little skirt, and the tightness in his pants argued
fervently for following them wherever they went.
She wore what he'd always thought of as fuck-me pumps, heels that were five
inches high and spiked. But the things were beige and closed-toed. If they
hadn't had those spike heels, they would have looked at home with a business
suit.
Her hair was up the way he'd first seen it. Elegant, with some little sparkly
comb thing holding it in place. She had a little makeup on. Not a lot.
He stared at her, not breathing too well, and she sauntered over to him,
looked him in the eye, and smiled a devastating smile. She was an impossible
combination of prim and wanton the Madonna and the whore. "Hi," she said in a
languorous drawl a little more pronounced than the "city Southern" she spoke
the rest of the time. "I'm Grace Callahan. Call me Grade."
And he thought, // doesn't matter which of her I'm with, does it? The one in
the jammies, the one in the blue cop suit, the one in the take-me clothes. It
doesn't matter what's going on in her head, what's going on in her past, what
she's doing now or what she's going to be doing in an hour. Because no matter
who she is, I
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Holly%20Lisle%20-%20Last%20Girl%20Dancing%20(v1.0).html chapter 6
Jess called Goldcastle and talked briefly to one of the dancers, who said the
dance manager was in but might be leaving soon, and if she wanted to
interview, she needed to come on. And that she ought to come to the side door
and ask the bouncer for Teri.
Hank drove her over, and Jess did her wire test from the passenger seat of
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Hank's car. Got the all-clear on her cell phone, took a deep breath, and said,
"Walk me to the door."
"Don't want to find out the bouncer is too friendly on your first day?"
"Right."
"No problem," Hank said.
He walked her to Goldcastle's side door, but didn't touch her. Some big, hairy
Neanderthal was guarding that door. "I'm here to see Teri," she told him.
He wasn't one of the undercover guys. He gave her the creeps.
"Dancer?" he asked, leering at her.
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God, he was scary. "Yes," she said.
"Ri-i-i-i-ght. You go on in, sweetheart. And stop and say hello to me later.
Buddy-boy back there can't come with you, though. He wants to watch the
titties jiggle, he goes through the front door and he pays like everybody
else."
Jess waved to Hank and called, "You going to wait in the car?"
"Nah," he said. "I'll go on in."
"I won't be long."
The Neanderthal watched Hank waiting to see Jess go through the door, and
after a staring contest between the two of them that Jess didn't miss, he
sighed.
"Left corridor, straight back," the door guy said.
Jess nodded. "Thanks." She walked past the guy, feeling his stare on the back
of her neck. But he didn't touch her when she passed him, and she thought she
had
Hank to thank for that.
The inside of the place was& well, the only word Jess could think of was
industrial. The floors were bare concrete, the walls concrete block. Someone
had painted all flat vertical surfaces a hideous shade of bargain-basement
peach-gone-
wrong that paint had to have been on sale as a massive mixing error, because
no one would choose that color on purpose. A fiftyish woman who might have
been pretty once, but who now looked hard and worn, stood next to the stage
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of one girl's gown. "You're ready," she said, and the girl nodded, and then at
the sound of the deejay's voice over the intercom, went through the door. A
second later, another girl, naked except for a black G-string with money still
hanging from it like tree leaves and with her arms full of pieces of a fuchsia
satin costume, hurried back toward the dressing room.
The older woman looked over at Jess and said, "Can I help you, honey?"
"I'm here to apply," Jess said.
"Dancer?"
"Yes," Jess said.
"I'm Louella. The housemom. You need to talk to Teri," the woman said. "She's
out on the floor right now, but I'll see if I can track her down for you."
Louella picked up a phone, punched in a three-number code, and waited. After a
minute, she said, 'Teri? Dancer back here wants a job." The housemom glanced
at Jess and said, "Oh, definitely& I'll have her wait in your office?& Right."
She pointed with a thumb to the door with teri on it in gold letters. "She
says go on in. Give her ten."
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Jess nodded, and went into the office.
Posters and photos decorated the walls, all of them of the same sleek,
gorgeous woman, shown with varying colors of hair, and eyes of such a light
brown they
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Holly%20Lisle%20-%20Last%20Girl%20Dancing%20(v1.0).html looked amber. Some of
the posters were for triple-X-rated movies, some were featured-dancer promos,
and some were simply glamour shots. Some of them had been taken when the woman
was in her early twenties; in some she was as old as thirty-five, Jess
guessed. Jess saw half a dozen names attached to those pictures, though all
the movie posters identified her as Stormy FoXXX, with the triple at the end
of the name in bigger, brighter letters.
X
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