Front Man 3 : Full Frontal (Part #3 of the Front Man series) Read Free Page B

for
oblivion.

    ***

    Sara almost missed
the turning, seeing the faded sign only at the last minute. The
dubious looking strip mall also held a nail salon, a liquor store and
a fried chicken joint. The Pussy Parlour occupied the biggest unit,
and the entire front was painted black, with neon signs already
flashing in the dim evening light. Locking the car, Sara felt a
twinge of anxiety. She had never been to one of these places before,
and as much as Erica talked it up, she wasn't sure if she'd be
welcome. Keeping the purpose of her visit in mind, she took a deep
breath and pushed the door open. 
    It took a moment
for her eyes to adjust; the inside of the club was so dark, the only
lights coming from the central stage and the candles on the tables.
The place was quiet, but not entirely empty. A group of guys were sat
up close to the stage, barely paying attention to the dark skinned
girl who writhed around a pole inches from their faces. They seemed
more interested in laughing at each others jokes and slapping their
friends on the back than the dancer, who nonetheless seemed to be
giving it her all. There were a couple of other occupied tables at
the back, a guy sat on his own, staring at the stage with glassy
eyes, and a couple engrossed in each other. Sara slid into a corner
table, trying not to draw attention to herself. She planned to buy a
few drinks, be friendly to her waitress, casually mention an old
school friend who used to work here and take it from there. If she
was lucky, Laura might even be working tonight. 
    "Can I get you
anything hon?" Sara nearly jumped out of her seat. She'd been so
busy rehearsing her plan, she hadn't noticed the waitress sneak up on
her from behind.  For a second, Sara dared to hope that her
server would be Laura herself, but the curvaceous brunette bore no
resemblance to the photographs. 
    "Can I get you
a drink, hon?" she drawled, flashing a row of pearly whites, and
Sara tried to keep her eyes off her generous cleavage as she asked
for a rum and coke. She would need a little dutch courage for the
task ahead.  
    "There we go
Darlin'," the waitress bent over to place Sara's drink on the
table, almost falling out of her tight dress in the process.
    "Thanks so
much, um..."
    "Brandi, and
you're very welcome. Anything else I can do for you?" 
    "Actually
Brandi, I was wondering...an old school friend of mine, she used to
work here I think. Her name was Laura something or other. Do you know
if she's still here?"
    Brandi narrowed her
eyes, and it was hard to tell if she was suspicious or just thinking.
After a moment, she offered, "Laura....no Lauras here that I can
think of. Mind you, a lot of the girls don't use their own names in
this business, so it's a little hard to tell. My Mom didn't christen
me Brandi, put it that way."  
    "I guess that
makes sense. No biggie, just wondering. Thanks for your help."
    "Not a problem
sweetheart. You just give me a wave when you need another."
    Sara had been
nursing her drink for almost an hour; she was driving, after all, so
she couldn't risk ordering another one. She sensed Brandi was getting
fed up with her. Sara was about to give up and leave. She had been
diligently scanning the club for a glimpse of Laura - if Erica was to
be believed, she had kept the distinctive strawberry blonde hair
colour she sported in all her old photos. But so far, there was no
sign of her. Sara twirled the straw in her drink, idly poking the
slice of lime that had sunk to the bottom  of the glass.
Suddenly, an explosion of noise from the table full of frat boys made
her look up.  
    "Yeah, Lola!"
yelled one of the guys, and his buddies chimed in with hollers and
wolf whistles. As Sara watched the girl stride confidently onto the
stage, she could see what all the fuss was about. She was tall, with
a lean, toned physique and legs that went for miles. If her full
breasts were fake, then someone had done a good job, as they looked
perfectly round in her sequined