Private Dancer Read Free Page A

I’m atoning for this marriage . If I do this right , maybe just maybe this marriage will be more of a marriage . After the miscarriage, Marise wanted to throw herself into getting her graduate degree, but Darryl disagreed. He told her she must wait until he signed the next big star, because they would need two incomes. Marise 12 | P a g e

    Nevea Lane
    Private Dancer
    reluctantly agreed and after bouncing from job to job for two years, she found an opening at Montgomery Enterprises.
    She was the assistant to the CEO and partner, Kasen Montgomery. Now, that same CEO had just seen her mostly naked. A small shred of hope started in her stomach, as she muttered to herself “Maybe he didn’t recognize me,” so the room full of changing women didn’t hear her.
    Several women that had the same mocha colored skin as hers, and a few had on blue wigs and green wigs done in the same bob hairstyle. There were at least fifteen girls working tonight. It is possible that he didn’t even know. That hope started to die when she heard Fatima, the infamous house mother and lady pimp clicking down the stairs in her light-up platform shoes.
    She snapped her fruit flavored gum in a motion that always reminded Marise of a cow chewing cud. Fatima scanned the dressing room with her artificially blue eyes. Marise found herself praying, hoping that she would not hear her name. Fatima flicked back her golden weave and put her hands on her hips. Marise could hear her two inch nails tapping against her metal belt.
    “Destiny, you got business in the VIP.” Marise swallowed and sighed. So much for him not recognizing her.
    “Can’t one of the others do it? I just finished a set.” Marise urged. Her eyes drifted to Fatima’s face. He golden lips were scrunched into a scowl and her ebony toned skin shined almost blue in the bright lights of the dressing room.
    Please God, show mercy, Marise thought.
    “Hell no. You better get your stuck up ass out there and make that money. He specifically asked for you, Miss high-n-mighty. You betta shake your ass.” Fatima said with a sneer.
    Marise shuddered and mentally shook herself off. She wiped her arms and legs free of sweat and slowly reapplied her lipstick. She felt like she was preparing for her own execution. She’d been nibbling on her bottom lip as she contemplated her dilemma. She needed time to think about what to do, but she heard a grunt coming from Fatima. Glancing at the woman, Marise muttered “I’m going.” Marise stood up and stretched. She adjusted the skimpy sheer skirt and 13 | P a g e

    Nevea Lane
    Private Dancer
    made sure her breasts stood firm in her red bikini top. Each step up the stairs and to the lounge Marise felt like a death row inmate. Dead woman walking.
    Every click of her heels sounded like a gun shot in her ears. The lounge might as well have been an executioner’s block. Marise shook as the red velvet curtain to the lounge came into view. It is just another dance. It is no more humiliating than the other dances. You won’t go into work tomorrow …She tried reassuring herself as she inserted her hands into the folds of the curtain to unveil her executioner. She parted the sea of red curtain slowly and stuck her head in. She scanned the room expecting to see a room full of gyrating dancers and drunken grabby men, but it was empty. Except for him. Sitting on the velour couch, like a king on his throne, was Kasen Montgomery. For the first time, Marise was glad the room was only dimly lit with a solitary faux burning candle. He won’t be able to see my body shake, Marise thought as she struggled not to tremble. Fear, she told herself, gave people an advantage over you. She walked towards the reclining lion and tried to appear nonchalant. She knew there was another bouncer watching from the double-sided mirror across from the couch. Kasen could be pegged as a cop if she wasn’t careful.
    “What can I do for you Daddy?” Marise said in a pouty voice. Oh God, I’m