But it also helped that he could keep an eye on the drunks and their grabby hands.
“I just don’t think working at a ‘gentlemen’s club’ is really something I’d like.” She didn’t look at Kiki, because she knew her friend would be staring daggers at her. Instead, she started piling fruits and veggies onto her plate. The table was silent, and she chanced a glance up. Of course they were both staring at her.
“I thought you said you were sick of being the cigarette girl at the Flamingo?”
Tatum exhaled and leaned back in her seat. “Yeah, I am, but I don’t think working as a waitress at a strip club is much of an upgrade.”
“Gentlemen’s club,” Beau said through a mouthful of food.
“Whatever.” Tatum speared her fork into a chunk of watermelon and shoved it in her mouth.
“You’d be making triple what you make now. Just think of how fast you could get out of debt.”
Tatum dropped her fork and rubbed her hands over her eyes. Of course Kiki was right. With her mother passing away last year and her mom leaving her a ratty house and debt up to her neck, Tatum was the sole person responsible for fixing everything. It didn’t help that she had no other family to rely on for help. Kiki was like a sister to her, but Tatum refused to take money from her.
Tatum didn’t mind stepping up and getting things cleared up, but when the majority of that debt stemmed from drinking and gambling, it made dealing with everything so much harder.
“I don’t know, Kiki.” The opportunity sounded great, and even though carrying around a tray with cigarettes to gamblers wasn’t the most lucrative of jobs, it had kept her afloat, until she felt like she was drowning in late notices and past due letters, courtesy of her mother. She looked at Kiki and saw a sheepish look cross her face.
“What? What did you do?”
At least Kiki had the courtesy to look embarrassed by whatever she was about to admit, which couldn’t be good.
“I actually already set up an interview with Mr. Castill.”
“Ugh!” Tatum speared her hands in her hair and tugged on the strands. The dark locks slipped through her fingers easily, but she really wanted to rip them out. “Why would you do that?”
Kiki rolled her eyes. “Quit being so dramatic. A lot of girls are applying for that position, but you have an insider to help you nab it. Why wouldn’t I help my best girl out?”
Tatum knew Kiki only tried to help, and she loved her for it, she really did, but sometimes Kiki took matters into her own hands when they were better left alone.
“Your interview is tomorrow at noon,” Kiki said, and Tatum made a noise in the back of her throat. “Oh, and make sure to wear something sexy that shows your killer cleavage and curves.” She wagged her eyebrows and grinned.
“I’m not going.”
Kiki knitted her brows in what Tatum knew to be frustration. “You’re going to go, because if you don’t, you’re going to make me look bad in front of my boss.” She got a smug look on her face. “Is that what you want to do?”
Ugh! Damn her! “You know damn well I don’t want that.”
Kiki clapped her hands, and her smile widened. “Great! Noon, don’t forget.”
Like Tatum would forget. This would either be the best thing that happened to her or the worst. She had a feeling it was the latter though.
Lord, help her.2The interior of The Lion and the Lamb was ostentatious. Tatum had seen plenty of strip clubs working in Vegas, but this place topped anything she had ever seen before. A large stage with a pole sat in the center of the room. A bar was to the right of that, the counter curving in a crescent shape with gleaming counters and top shelf liquor lining the mirrored wall.
A second level showcased more intimate tables that looked down at the “main attraction area.” The main floor was huge with dark carpet, lush leather chairs, and intimate lighting. The whole place screamed of class and sophistication, which almost seemed like an oxymoron, since half naked women was the selling point.
At that moment in time, she only saw one person actually working, and that was a gorgeous blonde with a chest so large Tatum wondered if she could see her feet. The woman didn’t pay her any attention, just continued to stock the back of the bar with bottles of alcohol. She felt increasingly uncomfortable just standing in the middle of the deserted strip club.
“You must be Ms. Weatherton.”
The deep drawl behind her had her heart instantly pounding and chills forming along her arms. Turning around, Tatum felt her breath stall as she looked at the imposing man before her. His shoulders were as wide as a linebacker’s, all broad and strong and irresistible. Those incredible shoulders tapered down to a hard stomach and narrow hips. All of that hard muscle was sheathed in a white button-down shirt, which did nothing to hide what lay beneath.