Real Vampires: Glory Does Vegas Bartlett, Gerry (good fiction books to read .txt) đź“–
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There were several murmurs from the other dancers. They’d been hired before the topless thing had come up. Three had quit and Manny had hired some replacements, but this was still a hard sell to some of the women. Rumors abounded about auditions for spots in the shows on the Strip. The money was better there but, more important, so was the prestige.
“You need to invest in better costumes.” Mae stood next to Manny. She wagged a finger in his face. “I’ll get the white shirts, cut them down. I’ll have to hire extra help to get them ready for the late show, but this can’t keep happening. How many different shows you want? Huh?” She stomped around. “I got all your measurements except for the new girl. Tiffany, come here.”
I smiled at Tiffany. She looked nervous. “Mae is wonderful. Stand still and she’ll make something that will fit perfectly. No worries.”
“Hah! I don’t see you showing your tits.” Tiffany raked my waitress outfit with hostile eyes. “I’d kill for a bra top instead of what’s coming tonight.” She flushed. “Sorry. Nerves. The dance looks cute.” She thrust out her hand. “Tiffany Powers.”
“Gloria Simpson.” I smiled then inhaled. Oh, gods, A-B Negative. My fangs were down and I had to lean over, pretending to choke. What would this sweet young thing do if I dragged her to a dark corner of the parking lot and took her down a pint?
She pounded my back. “You okay? My grandma does this when something goes down the wrong way.” She leaned down to peer into my face.
I pushed her away and struggled to control myself. “Tiffany, stop. I’m, uh, okay.” I stood and looked around. “Nerves. I understand nerves. Let’s hope the dance comes together. I promise not to push another new dance on you girls until next week.” I winked at Mae, my hand covering my mouth where my fangs would not yet behave. “Let Mae help you with makeup. She’ll make you feel better about being topless.”
Tiffany looked down to where Mae was measuring her breasts, one at a time. “I hope so. I’d die if my parents find out I’m doing this. But I’m desperate. Rent’s due and this was the only job I could get.”
Several other dancers nodded. “There’s not much turnover on the Strip. Once you get hired there, you never leave unless you’re lucky enough to snag one of the high rollers.” A leggy brunette sighed. “That’s my dream. A sugar daddy takes me away in his private jet.”
“Then what?” Misty chimed in. “I had that happen. Everything was great until his wife found out. I was flown back here economy class with nothing but a few bucks in my purse and a fur coat that I had to pawn the first chance I got. Fur in Vegas.” She laughed. “Like I needed that!”
The girls continued swapping stories though none of them sounded heartbroken about their lost lovers. I concentrated on the dance moves and finally put a stop to the stories so we could go through the routine again.
“Everyone remember the Latin number from last night? That’ll be the first act again.” I glanced at Tiffany. “Anyone bother to show you how it goes?”
“Donna did. She’s been a big help.” Tiffany smiled at Donna. “I think I’ve got it. What the heck are the feathers for though?”
“They’re because I paid a hell of a lot of money for them, that’s what.” Manny stepped up. “Use them another week or two then I’ll let you drop them. That okay, Gloria? We need more numbers too. People want variety. A reason to come back.”
I pulled him away from where the girls were running through the first act one more time. “Yes, variety. But I’m not doing this for free. Are you pleased with what I’ve done so far?”
“Yeah, I told you that.” He frowned. “What is this, a shakedown?”
“Call it what you like. It takes time and creativity for me to put these numbers together. So far I’ve given you two great acts for free. Any more and you’ll have to put me on the payroll as choreographer. A salary, not just that pittance you pay for the waitress job.”
“You gonna quit your waitressing gig?” He looked me over. “I heard you’re doing pretty good there. Making decent tips.”
“I want to do both. Good salary as your creative director, I guess you could call it, and keep the waitress job.” I saw Tiffany stumble as she tried to master the routine and almost interfered. Luckily, Donna moved next to her and helped her pick up the steps.
“You don’t want benefits, do you? I’m here to tell you–” Manny kept his eyes on the dancers, most of whom were already in costume, their breasts shaking to the Latin beat playing as they practiced.
“No, not necessary.” I named a figure that I doubted he’d pay but considered it was a starting point for negotiations. To my surprise, he agreed on the spot.
“Honey, I hated making up those dances and you’ve come up with two winners. It’s all yours.” He walked over to a locker and threw it open. It was filled with CDs. “Music you can pick from. Or do your own thing. I’d like at least one new dance a week, plus a Saturday night special. Something from the Fifties, Sixties or Seventies. People love nostalgia.”
“So do I.” If he only knew. I’d lived through those decades and had had quite a time as a flower child in the sixties. “I love that music.
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