The Girl Behind the Counter

Chapter 12

The next night they took care of the second order of London business. They had to check out the club Tommy would potentially buy. "How are you able to go from princess to vixen so easily?"Michael asked when Maxie emerged in her black and gold dress cut to just under the knees and gold headband with a black feathers on the side. "Shut up." Maxie smiled. They got to the club around 10pm and everything was relatively standard. A few people were dancing, a few drinking, a few just sitting. To be painfully honest it was a rather dull scene compared to some of the other clubs in town. "The blue and silver color scheme is very Gatsby, but people won't come to Soho just for Gatsby." Maxie commented. Half an hour later and Michael was in the middle of suggesting they leave when an announcement of a fresh new act came from on stage. "Wait, I want to see this. An act can save a club." Maxie said. Just after she completed her sentence blaring brass instrument noises filled the club. An elegant woman walked out in a gown and gloves that went clear up to her elbows. The very way the woman moved oozed seduction. She moved her hips to the music and every eye in the house was on her. As suddenly as she appeared, she left the stage and some of the rowdier men began to boo. Then from out of the wings two gloves flew back on stage, followed by the dancer in her bare arms. "Its burlesque." Maxie grinned when she realized. "Why are you smiling? I thought girls were supposed to hit their fellas for going to gentlemen's clubs." Michael asked. "No don't you see? She goes off stage to remove her clothes and then comes back on! She not actually stripping live! Or if she is then it's in a tasteful way." Maxie explained. "Tasteful stripping? You sometimes say the strangest things." Michael smiled at her eccentricity The dancer had disappeared and reappeared after removing the bottom of her gown, making it a normal flapper's length that swayed and swished with the music. The next time she left the stage the small, but wound up audience roared when the rest of her dress was thrown on stage from the wings. "This isn't striping?" Michael raised an eyebrow at her. Just then the dancer re-emerged. "No, it's a fan dance!" Maxie excitedly exclaimed. The performer held two huge ostrich feather fans and used them to cover her assumingly nude body. The way she moved the fans while never exposing her body was mesmerizing, though Maxie very much doubted the men in the audience noticed she was actually always keeping covered. When the song concluded she danced off of the stage. The last they saw of her was a bare arm poking out from the wings to wave one of the big fans 'good-bye' as one last tease. The previously dead club was alight with noise as the audience cheered for her. "Tell Tommy to buy the club."Maxie  ordered Michael. "Why? Cause it was entertaining for 10 minutes?" Michael argued. "No, because you'll rename it the Moulin Rouge. Instead of Soho people will come to Paris! Get some girls in as little clothes as legally possible to learn a few dances to perform throughout the night, then at the stroke of midnight that girl performs, and the place goes nuts!" She excitedly explained. "Won't it only attract a male crowed?" Michael asked. "No, people only see what they want to. All those men who were just cheering think they saw a naked woman, what they actually saw was a woman cloaked in feathers. Think back, and think about how big those fans were. In the end she barely showed more skin than I currently am. Women will realize this and wonder how she does it. They'll marvel at how the men cheer without her ever getting on her knees! The men will want her and the women will want to be her! With that girl, the right band, and the name Moulin Rouge with an interior makeover to fit the name this place will be the #1 spot for kids to go if they want to piss off mummy and daddy, it'll be the #1 spot for couples who want to feel dangerous, it'll be the #1 spot for folks who don't get the flapper generation to come and feel young again! This place is shit now, but you can make it hot!" She passionately pitched. "You're scary good at this." Michael observed. "At what?" She asked. "At being a gangster." He explained. "If you're shocked it's your own fault. This whole time you've been calling me princess, but honey, I'm a queen." She smirked.