Liberty Begins (The Liberty Series) (5 page)

I shook my head and came back to myself. I never wanted to think about any of this stuff, but because I was alone most of the time, it had a way of creeping in. I planned to ask Alex if I could work every day for the rest of the month. Maybe he’d let me work 24 hours a day — that way I could avoid thinking dark thoughts
and
avoid all the bugs in my apartment. And then I would be there in case John stopped by, looking for me.

John.
Just the thought of his name made me smile, which on the heels of those other memories was not easy. It made me glad to be alone, so no one could see me being silly. An older man like that, with that kind of suit, could only want one thing from a girl like me. And even though I liked him, and he was incredibly hot, I was not that kind of girl. Although sometimes I wished I was.
At least it would keep my mind off this other shit.

As I pulled on my clothes, rushing now, I relived our meeting from last night. It was so strange. Looking back on it in the morning light, it was like he had come to the Treasure Chest looking just for me. That didn’t make any sense. No one here even knew who I was. But it was just the way he looked at me, what I swear was the unmistakable relief in his eyes, the kindness — this is what confused me.
Maybe I imagined it
, I thought.
Maybe I would never see him again and forget all about him.

That’s what I was thinking as I grabbed my bag and opened my door. My neighbor, Vera, was standing right outside. It made me jump.

“Gah!” I said. And then we both laughed.

“Liberty! Honey, it’s okay! I was just about to ring your bell — this got delivered for you and I didn’t want it sitting out here, getting stolen,” she said, holding a package. Vera was in her early thirties, and she had a warm, round face. She was a mommy to two little girls and worked in housekeeping at one of the big hotels. She worked a lot. Her boyfriend, Reggie, worked the night shift doing security for one of the other big hotels. I liked having them as neighbors because they were friendly and their girls were cute. I also like the fact that in our sketchy area, Reggie was known not to be messed with. He had a heart of gold and watched SpongeBob with his girls but he was also big and menacing, worked in security and was always armed. I liked knowing he was right next door. I just wished he was home more at night. I’m sure Vera did, too.

“Don’t be so jumpy! You gotta relax before you go see all your boyfriends!” she laughed and handed over the package, which was small and light.

“Thanks, Vera,” I said as she headed off down the hall.

Now what could this be, I wondered. I had never had a package delivered to me in my life.
Liberty Davis.
We had gotten plenty of certified letters from bill collectors back in Eugene, but those were all addressed to my mother. Curious, I opened it right there, outside my apartment.

It was a pair of glasses with thick tortoise shell frames.
Huh?
I thought. Part of me had been expecting some sort of gross sex toy or vial of bodily fluid from someone who had seen me at the club. That would have been gross but at least made some sort of sense. I looked into the package. There was no note. I held the glasses up and inspected them: they looked new, immaculate and expensive. I scrutinized them in the sunlight. I don’t know what I was looking for, exactly, but I didn’t see any booby traps. I put them on. I have perfect vision, and nothing changed. So they were fake glasses. Weird. I put them in my bag and headed to work, mentally scratching my head the whole way there.

The parking lot at work was practically empty. One of the sometimes girls, Amber, was leaving as I punched in my code. “Totally dead,” she said, rummaging through her enormous purse. Amber was young, like me, but she looked older. She had reddish hair (dyed to match her name) and pockmarked skin that she filled in with lots of pantyhose-colored foundation. When she wasn’t smoking she was snapping gum. She was reliable, but Alex only called her when he had to, when someone had called out sick and he couldn’t find any of his preferred replacements.

“Be prepared to make five dollars,” she said, snapping her gum and shoving a cigarette into her mouth. “See ya.”

I never liked running into Amber. She was never really friendly, but that’s not what bothered me. It was the dead look in her eyes. It was like she was looking straight through me, like I could jump up and down and wave my arms at her and she wouldn’t notice. Every time I saw her I thought the same thing:
She’s already given up.
Typically, the girls at the Chest, myself included, liked to at least pretend that we hadn’t.

Five dollars was better than none, I reasoned. I left the eighty degree warmth and sun of the parking lot and went in. It smelled like beer and pee in the alley outside the door but I would still rather be here with a couple of bouncers, a DJ and a bartender than home alone with the ghosts in my head. Maybe I would see Alex and he could tell me something, anything, about John. I looked for him as I walked in and my eyes adjusted to the darkness. I didn’t see anyone but Chelsea, the bartender, standing behind the bar, texting feverishly. There were also two men sitting separately, nursing what appeared to be their brunch cocktails. Neither one looked like they had been to bed yet. Nina was up on stage, rolling around in the bottom half of a glitter bikini and looking dreamily at the ceiling. She’d probably been doing that for a good long while. I should have brought her a coffee.

I grabbed a glass from behind the bar and filled it with diet soda — Chelsea nodded to me once without looking up from her phone — and I headed out back quickly to get dressed. No one was in the dressing room. I was up next, so I hurried off my sneakers and jeans, threw them into my locker and put on my plaid mini skirt, a red thong, a red nipple-less bra and white oxford shirt. I put on my makeup carefully, making sure that I didn’t put on too much mascara because I would have to add more as the day went on. I put on my bubble-gum scented clear lipgloss over my red lipstick and smacked my lips together. As I bent down to dig my heels out, I saw the white package in my backpack. I grabbed it and sat back in my chair. Glasses make you look smart. I took them out of the package and tried them on.

When I looked in the mirror, I sucked my breath in. It didn’t look like me, but in a good way. If I kept my shirt buttoned and you couldn’t smell the bubblegum lipgloss, I looked like I could be a lawyer, albeit a young, slutty lawyer. Still, I looked good. And the glasses were mine, I reasoned. Someone had sent them to me for some weird reason. I stood up and headed towards the stage. It was time to relieve Nina. Her allergies were going to start bothering her if she kept rolling around on that dirty floor.

The song changed and Nina seemed to wake up. “Cool glasses,” she said, and rubbed my shoulder as she left the stage. Allergies aside, Nina was the healthiest person who worked here. She taught yoga and Pilates, and she worked at one of the health food stores in Vegas, so she was always showing up for her shift with green smoothies, seaweed bars and cashews. Honestly, I didn’t know what half of her snacks were. She wore a sequined bindi and was a strict vegetarian, both of which mystified me, but she was always so calm I liked being around her. She was nice to all of us and dreamy and detached with her clients, which was maybe just her way of distancing herself.

She was probably off to teach a yoga class this morning to rich women at one of the trendy resorts. She was always working. I couldn’t figure out why she stripped, but the other girls said eating like she did was wicked expensive. I don’t know why anyone would choose an expensive green seaweed bar over cheap macaroni and cheese or French fries, but I had limited exposure in these matters. My mother used to take us to Friendly’s for special occasions. It was still my favorite restaurant.

My audience of two was still hanging on, but just barely. They were both slumped in their separate seats. I could dance the hokey-pokey and they would probably be okay with it. I decided I needed to work on my pole dancing, so I climbed up and flipped upside down. The song was a heavy, thumping tech number that the DJ probably intended to wake the two stragglers up so they would finally leave. Then housecleaning could come in quick and vacuum before the nooners arrived. Some guys liked to come in and look at boobs while they had a burger. I didn’t know why they found that appealing, but at least I could try out my glasses on them, and see if they liked to watch me twirl upside down.

It was quiet for the next couple of hours. Housekeeping came, the lunch crowd came, and one other girl, Allegra, showed up after a while. We kept taking turns all day. We got into a groove, changing every four songs. It was actually fun — my glasses made me feel brave, like I was wearing a disguise. I had made about thirty dollars by four o’clock, about as good as I could expect. More girls were scheduled to show up soon but I was still hoping I could stay and work a double. Alex came out back while I was drinking some water, rummaging through my makeup for more of my favorite thick, chunky brown eyeliner.

“Hi Alex!” I said, jumping up and smiling at him. He stepped back, startled.

“
Liberty?
Is that you? Are you
smiling
at me?” He put his hand over his heart. “Quick, somebody call the paramedics, I think I’m gonna have a heart attack!” He laughed and stopped cracking himself up when he noticed me frowning at him.

“Okay, that’s more like it. Love the glasses, by the way. Now what do you want? Smiles like that from girls like you mean one thing: you want money. My ex-wife smiled at me like that all the time — still does,” he said, and now the smile had completely disappeared from his face.

“I don’t want money from
you
,” I said. I pulled my glasses down my nose for effect. “I want to stay and work the next shift so I can make more money from your
customers
.”

“I got girls coming in,” he said. He leaned in. “But, you know what? You were nice to my VIP last night. Maybe next time I ask you, you’ll be even nicer.”

I doubt it
, I thought, but then I pictured John and my heart started pounding. I kept my mouth shut and gave a noncommittal nod to Alex. “Is John in town for long?” I asked, hoping that I sounded disinterested and nonchalant.

Alex chuckled. “Finally, I know what your type is — rich and
old
.”

“He didn’t seem
that
old,” I said.

“But he
did
seem that rich,” Alex said and laughed. He seemed to relax, knowing that at least part of me was normal for a stripper — liking rich men. “I don’t know anything about it. I don’t know if he’ll be back or if he’s gone for good. Maybe if you’d given him a little taste of that sweet bod of yours...”

I stopped myself from shooting him a filthy look. I needed that double.

“Maybe next time, I will,” I said, and shrugged. I started putting on blush with a big puffy brush.

“Good girl,” he said, and headed towards the floor. “You can stay.” I was really glad I was sitting so he couldn’t swat my ass again.

Around five more girls started showing up. We wouldn’t get busy until ten or so, so I took my break and ordered some chicken tenders and fries from the kitchen. We got to choose a free shift meal from a small menu when we worked a double. A lot of the girls complained about the food, that it was all fried and fattening, but that was fine with me. I was starving, as usual. We had a bunch of bachelor parties coming in that night so I needed to keep my strength up — those guys got wild. I was glad I was sitting in the back in the dark so no one could see how quickly I was stuffing my face.

I was shoving five of my last ten fries into my mouth when a voice made me jump. “Liberty!” John said. He pulled up a chair. My very full stomach dropped down to my suddenly-shaking knees.

He smiled at me across the table. “We meet again. And I’m happy to report, luck has absolutely
nothing
to do with it.”

Please tell me this is not happening. Please tell me this is not happening. John, the hottest man I have ever met, a real-life Han Solo in a crazy expensive, immaculate suit, cannot be sitting inches away from me when I have greasy fingers, a greasy face and deep-fried chicken tender breath.