Night Dancer

Four

Unfastened the training gloves with his teeth, Bret panted and grabbed a towel to wipe his perspiring face. The workout had left him exhausted but hadn't done much to quell the spiralling emotions he had experienced since his last venture to Fantasy Bookings. He'd been a fool to treat Alyssa the way he had; a bitter and angry fool who should never have taken his hurt feelings over the situation with his wife out on an innocent girl. He kept going back to the day he had overheard her talking about him, remembering what she had said about his work, comparing what he did in the ring to a gyrating stripper and though it still irritated him he couldn't muster up the righteous indignation, the blind fury that it had caused to burst from him over the weeks he haunted Fantasy Bookings watching her every move.

The split from his wife had caused Bret to feel humiliated, especially with how it had all played out. He had been appalled to see a story about him in one of the dirt sheets saying he had been cheating on his wife with a stripper, seeing the photograph of him with said stripper while next to it was one of his wife looking innocent and hurt working at a hospital as a volunteer. He'd had to face a meeting with his boss over that as he had an image as a hero, a good guy, a man of integrity. Just as that had blown over the stripper had sold her story to the same rag and although it had been withdrawn Bret smarted from what he had read when his boss handed it to him and warned him to keep his face out of the papers. And the worst thing was that his ex-wife was justified in being appallled by his behaviour, by him not just flirting with a number of women while married to her but also sleeping with them behind her back,cheating on her when he was on the road and justifying it by saying how lonely he had been. When she'd told him she wanted a divorce he'd found he didn't have the heart to fight it. And when she announced just four months later she was getting remarried he was furious and deeply hurt as it transpired despite the sob stories he hadn't been the only one cheating. He couldn't take his fury out on her; she was gone and so instead he took it out on the girl in the strip club who had the audacity to talk about him and his work.

Closing his eyes briefly Bret pictured Lollipop with her huge brown eyes, her mischievous smile and her playful winks. He'd seen her with Steve at the bar, chatting and friendly, noticed that she never put her hands on him in the way some of the girls did. There was nothing flirtatious about her; she was just nice. There was no judgement from her; she knew Steve was married but it was none of her business in her mind. He paid her for her services and Steve often said there was nothing in it but the enjoyment of being around a beautiful woman. She never touched him and he never touched her. Bret still felt the morals were questionable on Steve's side at least but that wasn't on Lollipop. She was a sexy girl with long legs despite her short frame and a beautiful body. Her moves, despite his comments hit all the right places for him and he had found himself thinking of her more and more as he visited the club on a regular basis. That night she performed for him he had just wanted to prove a point, to prove that making derogatory comments about someone's career was hurtful. He had never intended to frighten her or lead her to believe that he would ever hurt her. The fact that he had made him wince when he thought of it. Bret couldn't imagine ever putting his hands on any girl, least of all one so petite and innocent as Lollipop who only seemed to want to make her clients smile. Her act was almost light relief, nothing like Amazon's slightly intimidating warrior woman or Michelle's rather intense country girl schtick. She always looked like she was just having fun out there, or at least she had until he started turning up and intimidating her.

Maybe a few weeks away would help to cool the heat of the emotions he was feeling. Maybe it would help her to feel less tense, less afraid if he was to show his face again. He was feeling an overwhelming desire to put things right with her, to make up for what he had done. He'd paid extra for the special, to compensate for the fact that he had told Nick she was shit at her job when it wasn't actually true. He'd tried buying her a drink but that hadn't ended well as she hadn't even touched it, as if she feared he had poisoned it. And he'd tried apologising though he could see how that might have looked to her when he followed her out of the club and onto the dark, empty street. No, he'd need to swallow his price and approach her when she was in the club. Maybe he could book her for another special; at least if she was on his lap she would be close enough that he could attempt to speak to her. He brightened a little at this thought. She couldn't stay upset and mad with him forever and if he booked her they'd at least have the half hour she danced for that he could use to try and make her see how sorry he was. Then perhaps he'd be able to sleep at night without his last thought being of those big brown eyes staring at him reproachfully or her body trembling when he was close by for all the wrong reasons.