Read Online Eighty Days Amber by Vina Jackson - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Vina Jackson
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clumsy at your first attempts, and I wouldn’t have kept you on had you not been a friend of Chey’s and had such a beautiful body. But you’ve come on in leaps and bounds.’
‘That’s nice to hear,’ I replied.
‘In fact, you’re too good for this place. You should be dancing somewhere they have an appreciation of class. You’re wasting your time here; you should be uptown where they tip better.’
It was true, the financial offerings of the Tender Heart’s miserly spectators were far from impressive. And some of them were so unpleasant and uncouth that, by my second day, I’d decided to turn down private lap dances, and had formally informed Barry of this as a take-it-or-leave-it option.
He gave me some names and I went for interviews and auditions. There was still no news of Chey.
Once I made it clear I was in no mood for casting-couch antics and just there to dance and keep customers entertained, I was quickly offered the opportunity to perform in a better category of establishment and even had the chance to choose where I did so.
I began alternating between two private members-only clubs on the Upper East Side, which both catered for upmarket locals and the mostly foreign clientele staying at the four- and five-star hotels dotted around the Central Park area.
The gratuities were considerably better, and I soon settled into a routine, sleeping into the afternoons and working late nights and weekends, at Sweet Lola’s or The Grand, where my classical background was admired and even encouraged, as two nights a week they had a pianist in and the girls did slower numbers to live music, in a cabaret style. I’d brought the house down and gained favour with Blanca, the beautiful Czech woman who managed the dancers, with a rendition of ‘Makin’ Whoopee!’ that involved so little dancing and so much writhing on top of the piano that I felt as though I’d hardly had to work for that night’s tips at all.
I even agreed to the occasional lap dance, as the punters at both of my new clubs were so much more upmarket than they had been at the place Barry ran, with their expensive suits and endless parade of dollar bills that they were only too happy to throw around at the slightest provocation. One man wanted me to do nothing more than remove my shoes for him and show him my bare feet. He would pay princely sums in exchange for just a glimpse of my toes, and even more if I allowed him to press his face close to my ankles as I stood en pointe , though I never allowed him to touch me. I was too afraid of losing my now comfortable position to risk stepping outside the management’s rules for the sake of a little extra money.
The girls and I tried to split cab rides home wherever we could for safety’s sake – we’d all had a scare when Gloria, one of the dancers who I worked alongside regularly, hadbeen approached in the alleyway behind Sweet Lola’s by a crazed fan who had taken a swing at her after she had spurned his advances – and also to save money. I was earning more than I’d dreamed possible at the Tender Heart, but I was still frugal with it, and so that night I’d asked the driver to stop once the meter totted up to the amount of change in my pocket plus a small tip and I’d walked the few blocks home from the corner of West 14th Street and 11th Avenue. It was 6 a.m. on a Sunday morning and the usually busy streets near the West Side Highway were quiet so I took a detour, walking up to the great steel arch of Pier 54 and watching the water of the Hudson River continue its gentle flow, glinting in the light of the rising sun. A local dance troupe ran performances and lessons here and I’d often thought of tagging along, perhaps even making some friends.
Things were going well for me now in New York, but even though I was used to my own company, I sometimes felt terribly frustrated and lonely without Chey. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he’d only told me where he was going and when. I
‘That’s nice to hear,’ I replied.
‘In fact, you’re too good for this place. You should be dancing somewhere they have an appreciation of class. You’re wasting your time here; you should be uptown where they tip better.’
It was true, the financial offerings of the Tender Heart’s miserly spectators were far from impressive. And some of them were so unpleasant and uncouth that, by my second day, I’d decided to turn down private lap dances, and had formally informed Barry of this as a take-it-or-leave-it option.
He gave me some names and I went for interviews and auditions. There was still no news of Chey.
Once I made it clear I was in no mood for casting-couch antics and just there to dance and keep customers entertained, I was quickly offered the opportunity to perform in a better category of establishment and even had the chance to choose where I did so.
I began alternating between two private members-only clubs on the Upper East Side, which both catered for upmarket locals and the mostly foreign clientele staying at the four- and five-star hotels dotted around the Central Park area.
The gratuities were considerably better, and I soon settled into a routine, sleeping into the afternoons and working late nights and weekends, at Sweet Lola’s or The Grand, where my classical background was admired and even encouraged, as two nights a week they had a pianist in and the girls did slower numbers to live music, in a cabaret style. I’d brought the house down and gained favour with Blanca, the beautiful Czech woman who managed the dancers, with a rendition of ‘Makin’ Whoopee!’ that involved so little dancing and so much writhing on top of the piano that I felt as though I’d hardly had to work for that night’s tips at all.
I even agreed to the occasional lap dance, as the punters at both of my new clubs were so much more upmarket than they had been at the place Barry ran, with their expensive suits and endless parade of dollar bills that they were only too happy to throw around at the slightest provocation. One man wanted me to do nothing more than remove my shoes for him and show him my bare feet. He would pay princely sums in exchange for just a glimpse of my toes, and even more if I allowed him to press his face close to my ankles as I stood en pointe , though I never allowed him to touch me. I was too afraid of losing my now comfortable position to risk stepping outside the management’s rules for the sake of a little extra money.
The girls and I tried to split cab rides home wherever we could for safety’s sake – we’d all had a scare when Gloria, one of the dancers who I worked alongside regularly, hadbeen approached in the alleyway behind Sweet Lola’s by a crazed fan who had taken a swing at her after she had spurned his advances – and also to save money. I was earning more than I’d dreamed possible at the Tender Heart, but I was still frugal with it, and so that night I’d asked the driver to stop once the meter totted up to the amount of change in my pocket plus a small tip and I’d walked the few blocks home from the corner of West 14th Street and 11th Avenue. It was 6 a.m. on a Sunday morning and the usually busy streets near the West Side Highway were quiet so I took a detour, walking up to the great steel arch of Pier 54 and watching the water of the Hudson River continue its gentle flow, glinting in the light of the rising sun. A local dance troupe ran performances and lessons here and I’d often thought of tagging along, perhaps even making some friends.
Things were going well for me now in New York, but even though I was used to my own company, I sometimes felt terribly frustrated and lonely without Chey. It wouldn’t have been so bad if he’d only told me where he was going and when. I
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