Madam Of The House. Donna Birdsell
wide. Cute. Like Bambi.
Oh, dear Lord. She was propositioning Bambi.
She quickly banished that image from her mind.
“Pardon me?” The waiter said, apparently believing he’d misunderstood.
If only.
“May I have a lap dance, please?” Cecilia waved two twenty dollar bills in front of him, which he pretty much ignored.
“I’m sorry, ma’am, but this isn’t that kind of establishment.”
She ignored the ma’am thing. “What kind of establishment is that?”
“The management doesn’t allow hands-on entertainment, if you know what I mean. We have strict rules.”
She fished another twenty out of her wallet and added it to the others, fanning herself with the bills. “It wouldn’t exactly be hands-on, now would it?”
Spartacus had finally taken notice of the bills, and moved a little closer. Close enough for her to smell the fabric softener on his toga.
She fished another twenty—her last one—out of her wallet. There went her lunch money for the next two weeks. She was quite fond of lunch. This lap dance had so better be worth it.
“And if there were no hands involved,” she continued, “you wouldn’t exactly be breaking the rules, would you?” she said.
“No, I suppose I wouldn’t.” He glanced around, presumably to make sure no management was watching.
Prince’s “Little Red Corvette” blared over the sound system. Perfect.
Cecilia drove it home. “What do you say, Spartacus?” She waved the eighty dollars in front of him.
The waiter took the money and tucked it into the folds of his toga. “I say, get ready for the best lap dance you ever had.”
“TONIGHT’S GOING TO go down in history as the best Truth or Dare game ever,” Dannie said, rubbing an ice cube on her neck.
“It is, isn’t it?”
Cecilia puffed on a cigarette, making tiny smoke rings by tapping on her cheek. She glanced over her shoulder at Grace, who sat at the bar sucking face with an unbelievably hot stranger.
They’d dared her to give him the undies she was wearing. And now, it seemed, she might end up giving him a whole lot more.
“I don’t believe it,” Dannie said. “Look at her. She actually did it.”
“She always had guts.”
“She sure did.” Dannie’s eyes held a faraway look.
Cecilia had always been a teeny bit jealous of Grace’s in your-face audacity. Cecilia may have been first at lots of things, but Grace was the group’s official rebel. The one time Cecilia had been a rebel herself, she’d gotten nailed for smoking in the dorms at cheerleading camp.
She and her roommate had caused the whole squad to get kicked out of camp, and they had to spend the entire football season on the sidelines, freezing their butts off in those short little skirts.
She exhaled a cloud of smoke. She really had to quit smoking. She’d promised Brian months ago that she’d stop by the time he came home for Columbus Day weekend.
She checked her watch. Midnight. Time was officially up.
“Okay, we’ve lost Grace,” Dannie said. “And Roseanna’s no good anymore.”
Roseanna’s head currently lay on the table, on a pillow of cocktail napkins.
“Doesn’t matter,” Cecilia said. “You’re the only one who hasn’t had a turn at the game, and I can handle it. Truth or Dare?”
Dannie slumped in her chair. “I dunno. You pick for me.”
Cecilia chewed on her straw for a minute. “Okay. Truth. I want to know what’s going on with you.”
“What do you mean?”
Cecilia leaned in. “I know you, Dannie. Something’s wrong. Are you missing Roger?”
Dannie snorted. “Yeah. I don’t know what I miss more, the lying or the cheating.” She shook her head. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. I know I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but he was such a shit.” She began to cry.
Cecilia lifted Roseanna’s head and retrieved a cocktail napkin, which she handed to Dannie. “He cheated on you?”
Dannie nodded. “At least once that I know of. But probably way more than that.” She sighed. “He was a good father, though.”
That was Dannie. Always looking at the shiny side of the penny.
“I’m so sorry,” Cecilia said. “But you know you could have talked to me about it. Anytime.”
“I guess I was embarrassed, which is just silly. Life would be so much better if we could all just share our secrets and get them off our chests. Don’t you think?”
“Hmm.” Cecilia chewed on an ice cube. “As a matter of fact…”
Dannie dabbed her eyes with the now-soggy napkin. “What? You have a secret, too?”
Cecilia pushed her shot away. “I really have to sober up.”
Dannie squeezed her hand. “Come on. I’m your friend. Maybe I can help.”
“Well, the thing is, I’m—” Cecilia sighed “—well, I’m flat broke.”
CHAPTER 4
Everything is negotiable.
As soon as she said it, she regretted it.
Here she was, complaining to Dannie of all people. Dannie, a widow with four kids, who never had enough of anything.
“Cece, let me help you,” Dannie said. “I can lend you some money.”
Cecilia shook her head. “No, I’m going to get out of this somehow.” She didn’t want to tell Dannie that whatever she could lend her wouldn’t pay the charge-card bill for Ben’s golf shirts.
Dannie looked as if she were going to say something, but stopped.
Cecilia sighed. She supposed getting everything off her chest couldn’t hurt. It was a night for truths as well as dares, wasn’t it? “The truth is, Ben never even tried to find a job after he was laid off. He started day-trading instead. In the beginning he made some money, but mostly he’s been losing. A fortune. My fortune.”
“But your job…” Dannie said.
Cecilia shook her head. “The real estate market is tanking. I can’t sell a house to save my life. If this keeps up, I’m going to have to start doing open houses again.” She felt the dreaded sting behind her eyes again.
Dannie gave her a sympathetic look. “Anything I can do, let me know. Okay?”
Cecilia nodded. She sucked down a glass of water and chewed on the ice as she and Dannie sat there together, lost in their own thoughts.
The first few notes of Bob Seger’s “Old Time Rock and Roll” blared over the speaker system. Tom Cruise slid through Cecilia’s mind in his underwear, and she smiled. “Oh, screw it. Let’s just have a good time.”
She and Dannie sang along with the song and reminisced about the night they’d sneaked into a movie theater to see Risky Business. They’d only been fourteen, not legally allowed into an R-rated flick, but a friend who worked at the Cineplex let them in.
Years later, Cecilia realized that most of the movie had gone right over her head, but the image of Tom Cruise in his tighty whities had certainly stuck.
“Hey, I know,” Dannie yelled over the music. “You could