Sintown Chronicles II: Through Bedroom Windows (76 page)

Sandra again put her hand on the inside of Shelly's thigh. “One more question, dear. If we decide to go ahead with this project, will you work with us?"

Shelly wrapped her arms around her knees, giving Tim a better view of her breasts but again dislodging Sandra's hand. “I don't think so,” she replied slowly. “I'm not ashamed of my profession, but Sam is. I don't believe it would be wise to display my body nightly in Sam's home town."

“Oh,” Tim said, leaning forward to get a better angle for the mammary view Shelly offered. “We're not thinking in terms of you being a performer. Sandy and I know nothing about strip clubs. We need you as a business advisor."

“Maybe a hostess or business manager as well,” Sandra added.

Laughing, Shelly tossed her hair and said, “I know how to work up a crowd of men by shaking my tits and ass, but I know nothing about the business side."

“You know a whole lot more than Tim and I do,” Sandra said, standing.

Tim, taking his cue from Sandra, also stood. “Will you think about it, Shelly?"

“I have a question,” Sam said before Shelly could answer.

“Fire away,” Tim replied.

“What kind of money are we talking about?"

Tim looked inside the top of Shelly's bathing suit. “What do you make now, Shelly?"

Again, before she could answer, Sam said, “Ten thousand a week."

Tim whistled. “Five hundred and twenty grand a year. Vacation and benefits too, I suppose?"

“Of course."

“That's a lot of money."

“It's a lucrative business."

“We'll have to do some hard thinking of our own,” Tim said.

“Don't pay him any attention,” Sandra joked. “That's a drop in the bucket compared to the bottom line potential."

Shelly watched the Dollars, arm in arm, walk towards the deep end of the pool. “Why did you lie about my income?"

“If you are going to stay in this business, you need a manager. I just appointed myself. I want fifteen percent."

She looked at Sam. He wasn't joking.

“The salary thing is a starting point in the bargaining process. It's easier to come down than to talk our way up."

“You approve of this project?"

“No, but it's better than being a stripper at the Crazy Cat Club."

“There's just one problem."

“And that is?"

“Sandy already knows what I make. I told her during one of my interviews."

“You received a raise last week. Did you forget?” he joked.

Shelly smiled. “I believe I already said it, but it bears repeating. You're a mess, Samson Pond."

“And you're a sexpot, Delilah Delight. By the way, your mystery man stared holes in you the whole time the Dollars were here."

She followed the focus of his eyes and saw Ron, perched on the balls of his feet at the edge of the high dive. He seemed to glide into the air, arms straight out at right angles to his body. His glistening, bronze torso followed his head toward the water, straightening out as his arms stretched forward with hands crossed. He entered the water, causing a tiny splash, completing a perfect swan dive.

“I need to see him one more time,” Shelly said quietly.

“I know,” Sam replied. He stood and stretched. “I think I'll play with the kids for a while."

Ron traced circles around Shelly's nipple. “I've never seem them so long."

“The air conditioner in your van is very cold this afternoon,” she joked.

“The hell it is! You're turned on. I can't believe you're doing this."

“Get used to it,” she said, sliding her hand to his scrotum.

“Why, Shelly? Is he better in the sack than I am?"

She shook her head. “No way, big man."

“Then why?"

“He's good for Annie."

“We could still get together, like now or in the Dollar's barn."

“Nope. Sandy would discover us sooner or later and Dot's a small town. Word would soon get back to Sam."

“Fuck Sandra Dollar."

“I think you probably already do that on a regular basis,” Shelly joked.

“We could meet in a motel in Charlotte."

She slipped her fingers to his flaccid penis and used a fingernail to toy with its little eye. “I'm getting married tomorrow, Ron. Accept it."

“You've knocked the wind out of my sails,” he said. “I was going to surprise you today with a marriage proposal of my own. I can be a good father too, you know."

“Bullshit. It's time for old ‘love ’em and leave em’ Ron’ to leave ’em."

“One for the road?"

She kissed his testicles. “I'm afraid our friend doesn't want to cooperate."

He wrapped his fist in her hair and jammed her face to his crotch. “Make it cooperate, slut. Use you damn tongue, you fucking bitch."

“What does it feel like to be Mrs. Samson Pond?” Sam asked as he entered the bedroom.

“I don't know yet,” she replied, smiling up at him from the bed. “Is Annie okay?"

“Sound asleep,” he said. “It was nice of the Nickels to have a surprise reception for us."

“Yeah. Right. I wanted a quiet little ceremony."

“And that's what you got. There was just you, me, the preacher and the Borders present."

“And five minutes later, half the town was in our neighbor's backyard."

He sat on the edge of the bed, rubbed her leg and smiled. “You liked all the presents they gave you. Admit it."

The corners of her lips edged upwards. “It's hard to stay mad at you."

“I like the red nightgown,” he said as he stood.

“I thought you deserved something special on our wedding night."

He pulled off the robe and tossed it at a chair. “I have something special for you too,” he said, opening the bedside table drawer. He removed the vibrator from its box, turned it on and listened to its hum. “You're going to have an orgasm if it takes my accomplice and me all night."

Congratulations! How's married life? I'd like to see your new home, Annie and, of course, you! I confess I'm beginning to wonder if we made the right decision. I made you a promise and I intend to keep it. Will it be convenient for me to visit you tomorrow afternoon?

Love,

Boyd

What's with this “love, Boyd” stuff. You've never used that word before! I'll bet you want to see Annie—just about as much as she wants to see you. I don't think it would be wise for you to visit me in Dot—nosy neighbors, you know. I'll see if I can arrange a babysitter and come to your place tomorrow.

Shell

I want to see your new home! I will be there tomorrow around two. Maybe I haven't used the word, but you know I have loved you since the day we met! I suppose, since you are married now, you are on the pill and I no longer need condoms. I can hardly wait.

Horny Boyd

Boyd,

If you must, come on, but don't make a scene. Remember that this whole thing was your idea! It's not working out very well. I haven't had a decent night's sleep since I moved in with Sam. He snores and he can't seem to keep his hands off me. We've been married only three days and I already find myself avoiding him. What have we gotten ourselves into? No, I'm not on the pill, but for two and a half years—since Annie was born—I've been using the three-month shot. You will continue to wear a rubber, however! I want you, but not your damn diseases!

Shell

Shell,

I don't have any diseases but, come to think of it, you sleep around as much as I do. I don't want your diseases either! I'll see you tomorrow.

Boyd

Shelly stepped from the shower, patted herself dry and entered her dressing room, nude. “Hi, Big Guy,” she said as she held out her arms to the bouncer. “How'd you like the new act?"

“Girls doing it don't turn me on,” he replied as he gave her a bear hug. “The place was packed tonight. Biggest Saturday night crowd I can remember and from the way they were whooping and hollering I'd say the act was a hit."

She moaned as his huge right hand traveled down her spine.

“You may have to throw more clothing to the customers, though. A couple of guys got into a hell of a fight over your panties."

Shelly kissed him full on the lips. “How do you want it tonight—front door, back door or down the chimney?"

He gripped her shoulders and squeezed gently. “We don't have time tonight. The boss wants to see you and she's in a lousy mood. Better get dressed in a hurry, Delilah.” He left without another word.

She didn't like the act, damn it. Well, the customers did and that should be what counts.

She dressed quickly, hurried down the dimly lit hallway and knocked on the office door.

“It's open."

“How'd you like the new act, Rita?"

The heavyset woman with dyed black hair pushed back from her desk and stood. “You should have auditioned it with me first,” Rita hissed. “Trying out a new act without my approval, and on a Saturday night to boot, was a dumb thing to do."

Shelly glanced at the slender blond sitting on the sofa and replied, “The guys liked it."

“It needs work, but you're right. They did like it. In fact, two gentlemen liked it so much they agreed to pay big bucks for a private session with you and Carmen. Carmen is already with them in the Devil's Den. Get your fat ass in there and give them their money's worth. Remember that I videotape all activity in the Den. I'll know exactly what goes on."

“Rita, what your other girls do is their business, but you know very well I'm not a whore. I won't do it."

“You are a whore, beginning tonight, or you have no job. You look like an old woman. Your boobs are beginning to sag and they don't have that special bounce anymore."

Rita nodded towards the blond. “I've already hired your replacement. You're no longer my headliner. If you cooperate, give exciting lap dances and take your turn in the Devil's Den, I'll keep you on, but your pay, effective tomorrow, will be five hundred a night."

“Rita, you can't do this. Delilah Delight is your star. She's the one who draws the customers. We have a contract."

Rita sneered as she approached the blond. “You stupid bitch. Do you have a copy of the contract?"

“The contract is in your safe."

“Not anymore, darling. It no longer exists.” She laughed sadistically as she rubbed the blonde's cheek. “The guys will forget all about Delilah Delight the instant they see what this double jointed vixen can do."

Rita pulled the girl's face to her ample stomach and stroked her long hair. “Dixie, you watched Delilah's act tonight. You think you can duplicate her part?"

“Nothing too it."

“Well, get that lovely tail of yours in the Devil's Den and fuck their brains out."

The woman stood, tossed the hair from her eyes and smiled at Shelly. “Nice to have met you, Has-been."

Sandra held Shelly's hands and searched her eyes. “Shelly, I'm so sorry, but you're good. I've seen you in action, honey. There are other strip clubs in Charlotte."

“They all stick together, Sandy. When one club blackballs you, they all turn their backs on you."

“Have ... have you considered blackmail? I mean ... well, you know what goes on in the Devil's Den. One word to the authorities and they will shut down the Crazy Cat Club. That should be worth something to this Rita woman."

“Yeah. It would be worth something to Rita all right. It would be worth the price of a hit man to turn me into fertilizer. Sandy, I was hoping we could work something out about the new club in Dot."

Sandra pulled three books from the shelf, groped behind other books and pulled out a concealed pack of cigarettes and a lighter. “Mind if I smoke?” she asked.

“Hiding the habit from Tim, are you?” Shelly laughed.

Sandra smiled as she lit the cigarette. “We hide it from each other. We're like kids slipping a smoke behind the barn. Shelly,” she said as she exhaled, “these things take time. We're still gathering information. The truth is, I'm afraid the project is on a back burner right now."

“I wish it could be like this forever,” Shelly said as she nestled in Boyd's arms.

“Me too, Shell—me too.” He kissed her hair. “What are you going to do, baby?"

“I don't know. I really don't. I feel so ... so useless."

He trailed his fingertips down her arm. “You could always get a regular job, Shell."

“Doing what? Waiting on customers at the Korner Kafe?"

“You think Rita would give you your job back if you agreed to her terms?"

“I'm not going to do it, Boyd. My mother went down that road and look where it took her. I'm just not going to do it."

He rolled her onto her back, kissed the underside of her breasts and trailed his tongue to her navel. “You have a great body, Shell. I have contacts. You can make a fortune as a call girl."

“Forget it, Boyd. I'd rather kill myself."

“Don't even joke about that, Shell. I can't stand the thought of life without you."

She stroked his hair as he rested his head on her stomach. “You're so damn sweet when you're sober."

“I love you, Shell. Marry me."

“Idiot,” she said, playfully slapping the top of his head. “I'm already married."

“Have you ever heard of divorce?"

“Why didn't you think of this before you talked me into marrying Sam? I would have jumped at the chance to be your wife. Hell, I begged you to marry me."

“Because I
am
an idiot. Shell, there's nothing forcing us to stay in North Carolina. Let's move to Florida, California, any place you like. You can be a headliner again and I can get a job as a club disk jockey with no problem at all. I'm good."

“Aren't you forgetting something?"

“What?"

“Annie."

He propped on his elbows and rested his chin in his hands. “You asked me once when I was going to grow up and accept responsibility. I'm ready. I can be a good father to Annie."

“When you're sober, maybe."

He slid his hand down her lower stomach. “I swear on your beautiful pubic mound, if you will go away with me, I'll never drink another drop of alcohol."

She sat up and pulled him close. “Oh God, how I wish I could believe you. What would we use for money, Boyd?"