Cervena (4 page)

“Thank you.”

“Was it okay? You didn’t look uncomfortable out there.”

“Mostly it was fine. I don’t like them grabbing at me, but….” He shrugged. “Here. You should have this.” He picked up a thick wad of cash from the dressing table and held it out to me. I took it from him and flicked through it, estimating at least five thousand korunas. I placed it back on the table.

“You keep it. It’s your first night. In the future you keep half, okay?”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“But I owe you for my clothes.”

“I told you, the money for those will be taken from your pay.”

“Okay. Thank you.” Sasha took the money and slipped it into his pocket. “I’m not going to do the lap dances. At least not yet.”

“That’s fine. You don’t have to.”
I hope you never do.

“Do I need to do anything else tonight? I’m pretty tired.” Sasha smiled sheepishly.

“No, we’ll be closing soon. Sleep well, okay?”

He nodded. “Good night, Joel.”

I repeated the words to him and stayed where I was when he slipped past me to go upstairs.

I spent the next hour doing what I usually did. I checked with the guy in the viewing room to ensure everything had been okay in the private rooms. As the music ended and the lights came on, I kept an eye on the proceedings while the crowds were ushered out into the street. Other than the clubgoers milling around and babbling in various languages as they looked for transport or set off on foot, the city was more peaceful at this hour. My final task was to ensure everything was locked up, and by the time I left in a taxi, it was three thirty, and I was exhausted.

After a quick shower at home I fell into bed, but I was too restless to sleep right away. Images of Sasha dancing filled my mind and my cock throbbed. I jerked off while I pictured him giving a private dance for me, and although it appeased me physically, I remained irritable. I wanted him, and it seemed the feeling wasn’t going to go away.

THE NEXT
afternoon I was distracted from my longings by Bohdan setting off for Vienna. Everyone except for Karel collected at the club to say good-bye. I’d called Karel to tell him the boy was leaving and he’d grunted that he wasn’t surprised.

Afterward, I hung around for a while and went to my office. Much to my surprise, I found Karel there, writing in one of the accounts books. He was old-fashioned when it came to record keeping. We had a perfectly good computer program to log everything, but both of us preferred pen and paper. Our accountant despaired of us.

“What are you doing?”

Karel jumped and glanced over his shoulder. “Dealing with this latest batch of invoices. It’s my turn to take care of it.”

“Okay.” I’d been doing the books for the past two weeks. We shared the task that neither of us were keen on. “I’ll leave you in peace.” I went to the kitchen to use my cell phone to call Rosalyn. Since my last visit, I checked in every day to see how our mother was.

I spent a while on the phone with my sister and brother-in-law, catching up on their news. It was only early November, but Rosalyn pinned me down for a visit close to Christmas. I couldn’t leave the club on Christmas Eve or New Year’s Eve—two of the busiest nights of the year—but I promised to fly home on Boxing Day if I could get a flight. If not, I’d go the day after and stay two or three days.

When I finished the call, I went back to the office, finding Karel had finished his paperwork and left. I switched on the computer and checked flights. There was nothing available on Boxing Day unless I wanted to fly to Manchester in the UK, then travel over two hundred miles back to London. I booked a seat on an early morning flight on December 27, opting for a one-way ticket so I could decide later when to come back. I spent another hour on the computer, selecting gifts for the family and arranging for them to be delivered to my condo.

After turning the computer off, I left to go home. I had to be one of the most organized men I knew—Christmas gifts ordered seven weeks in advance. Karel only had a couple of people to buy for, and he always ran around frantically on Christmas Eve, cursing the crowds and lack of time.

Sundays were always quiet for me. My friends were my colleagues and employees, and we rarely saw each other unless it related to work. I spent the day cleaning and tidying the condo, watching TV, and reading a book. In the evening I took myself out for a solitary dinner at my favorite Italian restaurant. As I sat sipping a glass of wine and enjoying a rich lasagna, I imagined how good it would be to have dinner with Sasha sitting opposite me. There was nothing to stop me from asking him, but every time I imagined doing it, I conjured up another reason why I shouldn’t. But it didn’t stop me dreaming.

I gazed out of the window, the twinkling lights in the street softening the damp grayness of the evening. A couple paused in front of the restaurant to exchange a kiss, and I imagined Sasha, hurrying along the sidewalk to meet me for dinner. I pictured him reaching my table, shrugging out of his coat, and bending to give me a peck on the cheek before taking his seat.

“You idiot,” I muttered to myself and shoved another forkful of lasagna into my mouth.

The persistent daydreams were pointless when I had no intention of doing anything about it.

Chapter Three

THE NEXT
month flew by. It was three weeks before Christmas, and Prague’s streets were crowded with shoppers looking for gifts. The club was as busy as ever, and Sasha had become one of the most popular dancers. His tips from the podium equaled Tomáš’s, and his confidence had increased in leaps and bounds. He continued to avoid lap dancing, despite numerous requests for him from the public.

Karel hadn’t been keen on Sasha in the beginning, and had scoffed about him being “too prudish” to give private dances. That night Karel’s dislike of Sasha only increased. As I sat at the bar nursing a beer, I noticed Karel approach Sasha by the door that led into the corridor. They were too far away, and the music and crowd too loud for me to hear their brief conversation, but I didn’t miss Karel’s leer or the way he placed one hand possessively on Sasha’s hip.

I abandoned my drink and headed toward them. Karel hadn’t noticed me and leaned in closer, but Sasha sidled away from him, a scowl on his face. He raised one hand and jabbed a finger toward Karel’s chest. Closer now, I picked up Sasha’s exclamation in Russian.

“Fucking tease,” Karel responded, taking a step back.

“What the hell is going on?” I demanded. “Sasha?”

Karel muttered something as he walked away, and Sasha gave me a nervous smile. “He, um, he made a pass at me.”

“I saw. Are you okay? Karel can be pushy.” I frowned in concern. It should have occurred to me that Karel would make a move. He made passes at all the dancers at some point. The only surprise was that he’d taken so long to do it with Sasha.

“I’m okay. I told him to fuck off. Shame he doesn’t speak Russian. He probably didn’t get it.” Sasha’s smile became more genuine and his eyes twinkled.

“Oh, I’m pretty sure he got it. He doesn’t like rejection, so he probably won’t bother you again, but let me know if he does.” I made my way back to the bar, where Karel was waiting for a drink, gesturing impatiently at Kris.

“Karel.” I scowled as he turned to look at me.

“What?”

“Leave Sasha alone.”

“Why?” Karel’s lips twitched up at the corners. “You’ve had a month to make your move, but you haven’t tried.”

“I don’t plan to. But I don’t want you messing with him. He’s a sweet boy. He’s not used to all this.”

Karel laughed. “He’s not a boy, Joel, he’s a man. Perfectly capable of saying no if he wants to. Which he did, by the way. So you needn’t worry. I don’t sniff around the same piece of ass twice if I don’t get anywhere the first time. He’s still available for you. But I wouldn’t wait forever.”

My face warmed, and I was grateful for the dimness and colored lights in the club to disguise my discomfort. I did want Sasha, and again I asked myself why I kept my distance. Maybe because I feared he would say no to me as he had to Karel. But my determination to keep away from Sasha diminished every time I saw him.

During the past few weeks I’d learned a little more about him, although there was never much opportunity to talk to him alone. When I was at the club, the boys were dancing, or in the dressing room, changing and gossiping. I was reluctant to hang around and make it obvious to the others that I liked him. I’d caught his eyes on me a few times, but I didn’t think it meant anything.

I turned away as the next dancer climbed up onto the podium. We’d taken on another new one to replace Bohdan as we’d intended to increase the numbers to six. Gabriel was a local boy, only nineteen, but he knew exactly what he wanted to achieve. He’d graduated high school and wanted to go to medical school, but his parents were poor and couldn’t afford the fees. He intended to spend a year dancing and saving his tips the way Bohdan had done. Then he’d start school and continue dancing part-time if we’d allow it. Impressed by his plan, I’d agreed immediately. We could always take on another part-time dancer later if need be. I watched Gabriel’s dance and finished my beer. Sasha had another performance coming up, and I waited impatiently as always, eager to watch his sensual moves and imagine he was dancing only for me. Karel paid him no more attention, much to my relief.

A FEW
days later, on Saturday night, I learned that the looks Sasha gave me did mean something, after all. Since Karel hit on him, I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it, and the more I thought about it, the less important all those reasons seemed. Just because it hadn’t worked out with Phillippe, didn’t mean it wouldn’t with Sasha. Assuming he even liked me that way.

The club was due to close, and Tomáš, Gabriel, and Marek had come downstairs after finishing their final lap dances. They passed me on their way to the dressing room, gleefully counting their tips. I continued to the kitchen to make sure everything was switched off and locked up. When I heard footsteps behind me, I glanced over my shoulder. Sasha halted in the doorway and leaned against the jamb. He’d changed into jeans and a sweater and held a roll of money in one hand.

“Um, hi. I was hoping to borrow some milk for the morning. I ran out, and I like my coffee when I wake up. I’ll replace it tomorrow.”

“Help yourself.” I smiled and gestured to the fridge. I leaned against the counter as he took a carton of milk. My heart thumped faster as it did every time I was anywhere near him. After a month I’d have thought I’d be able to stop acting like a teenager with a crush, but my longing for him had only increased.

I wondered what his answer would be if I asked him on a date the way I’d thought of doing a hundred times. I imagined trying to sound casual as I blurted out what was in my head: “Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?” Would it really be so bad if I tried dating him? My excuses about the age difference, Sasha perhaps feeling obligated to say yes, and my previous failed relationship with a dancer had worn thin. Sasha wasn’t a child. He’d be twenty-one in a few weeks and was perfectly capable of making his own decisions. As long as I could control my jealousy when he was on the podium, it could all be fine. Then again, it was more likely he wasn’t interested in me in the slightest and would say no. Too long on my own had made me think I wasn’t much of a catch.

“Yes. That would be great. Thank you for asking.”

“Huh?” My mouth dropped open and I snapped it shut.

“I said yes, thank you. I’d like to go to dinner.”

Fuck, I said it out loud.
It took me a moment to register that he’d accepted my invitation. I blinked and pulled myself together. “Good. What type of food do you like?”

“Anything is fine. Why don’t you choose what you like?”

“All right. Italian, then. We’ll go to my favorite restaurant. Do you have something smart but casual to wear? A shirt and pants?”

“Yes.” Sasha nodded and smiled.

“I’ll meet you here at seven.” I shouldn’t have been so excited over a dinner date. Although I’d known him a month, I knew very little about him. But the evening would be an opportunity to learn and I couldn’t wait.

I TELEPHONED
the restaurant as soon as they opened for lunch the next day, and booked a table for the evening. I ate there so often they always squeezed me in if I went alone, but I wanted to ensure I’d have a decent table this time. With that done, I spent my Sunday afternoon the same way I always did, but I was impatient for the time to pass. I checked my watch over and over, and rather than relax and read, I paced. When five o’clock arrived, I took a long shower, shaved, trimmed my chest hair and pubic region, and sprayed on my favorite cologne. I chose to wear a simple gray suit with an open-necked white shirt. I’d managed to pick up a fairly decent tan over the summer months and a hint of it still lingered on my skin. I thought I looked good, with my dark blond hair cut a couple of days before and my eyebrows plucked to ensure there were no stray hairs in the middle. I wasn’t a vain man—certainly not as vain as Karel—but I liked to make an effort when I went on a date.

At six thirty I put on my overcoat and a scarf and gloves, and set off on foot. The temperature had dropped below freezing, and I knew my leg wouldn’t like it, but it was my habit to walk. I kept close to the buildings, avoiding the usual bustle of people on the sidewalk. The weather rarely made a difference to the number of people on the streets. By the time I reached the club, I was limping slightly and trying to ignore the twinges of pain above my knee. It would settle down as soon as I sat in a warm room.

Sasha was waiting outside the club, even though I was ten minutes early. A green shirt collar, a similar shade to his eyes, peeked out from beneath his black suede jacket. Black pants and shiny shoes completed his outfit. He looked stunning and I beamed inanely as I walked toward him. We greeted each other and I suggested we walk to the restaurant, which was less than half a mile from the club. What was another ten minutes to my already uncomfortable leg?