Angelica was unable to sleep. Images of Donna Barnes Reardon invaded her dreams. Donna’s hand with its twisted pointer finger was stretched to the limit, narrowly missing Angelica’s nose by a centimeter. Get out! Get out! Angelica heard Donna say. Get out, you miserable freeloader.
Angelica tossed and turned all through the night. Her sheets were pulled from the mattress as if a savage beast had been in the room. She rolled to one side and then the other. Unable to will herself to sleep, she sat up in the bed and waited for her eyes to focus.
Birds chirped outside her window, but the noise was irritating. Angelica ran to the window to try and scare them away.
Slowly, night gave way to day. Angelica lay down on the crumpled up sheets, balling up her pillow to form what looked like a bird’s nest, and laid her head on it. Before she knew it, she was fast asleep.
She bolted upright, not sure where time had gone. The sun was bright as it forced its way into her bedroom. She got up and tiptoed, listening for signs of life. Hearing none, she ventured outside the room on her tippy toes, her back hunched over and her eyes darting in different directions like a predator hunting its prey. When she was sure that she was alone, she let her shoulders relax and then air escaped through her lips.
Quiet was sometimes a lonely feeling, but this morning it was a welcome relief. Ari was gone to work, and she didn’t have to face his accusing stares and unspoken accusations, although she had nothing to worry about.
Sunlight flooded the dining room. As Angelica started to cross the length of it, there it was in bold black letters, DONNA BARNES REARDON, PHOTOGRAPHER TO THE STARS, FOUND DEAD IN HER MANHATTAN APARTMENT, on the front page of the New York Times. Angelica gasped and reached for a corner of the table and held onto it, looking at the newspaper once more, bringing herself face to face with a blaring press photo of Donna. It was real because the papers didn’t lie about the demise of the city’s elite-or at least Donna thought she was. Angelica couldn’t move and continued to brace herself on the table as Ari’s conversation in the wee hours of the morning came rushing back to her.
Finally able to move, Angelica sat down in one of the dining room chairs. Donna was dead, but how did she die? Angelica inched her hand to where the paper lay, hesitating a moment before picking it up. At first she couldn’t see anything for the blaring headline, but right there in paragraph one was the answer, stark and to the point.
Manhattan’s own Queen of Photography was found murdered yesterday in her Manhattan apartment. A close friend, who asked to remain anonymous, found her in her studio with her neck slashed and called the police immediately.
Angelica trembled and raised her hand to her throat as she read the words again, with her neck slashed. She wondered which one of Donna’s three companions found her: Jazz, Coco or Madeline? The paper shook violently in Angelica’s hand until she finally set it on the table, unable to read anymore. But her curiosity got the better of her, and she grabbed the paper and forced herself to read more.
There was an apparent struggle between the victim and her assailant. Camera equipment was strewn throughout the room, and one of Ms. Reardon’s award-winning photos that hung in her studio was slashed. This appeared to be the work of a cold-blooded killer.
The doorman, Ari Parrias, said that Ms. Reardon entertained lots of guests. They came and they went. He did recognize a female friend of Ms. Reardon who entered the apartment at approximately four in the afternoon.
Angelica put the paper down. “Thank you, Ari, for not mentioning my name.” The last time she spoke with him, he was visibly upset and throwing accusations her way. Why would she want to hurt Donna? Why would anyone else want to hurt her?
The cab drove up and she was on her way to her second night on the job. Angelica enjoyed the applause of the crowd-and the men that threw tens and twenties her way. There was an air of freedom in dancing before the gawking men and making the pole a slave to her gyrating body.
The cab driver stared at her in his rear view-mirror. Angelica hurled him a makeshift kiss and turned her head and watched Queens roll by. New York was not as intoxicating as she once felt. She had not even been in the city long enough to give it a failing grade, but something about it made her uncomfortable, like she didn’t belong.
The cab finally arrived at the club, and Angelica paid her fare and walked in. Tonight she wore a black, form-fitting dress that hit four inches above the knee and showed enough cleavage to get someone’s interest. A one-inch, patent-leather belt circled her waist.
A look of surprise enveloped Angelica’s face. The music was jumping, and it was not even time to start the show. She took a peek beyond the curtain that led into the main entrance of the club where all the entertainment was held, and a couple dozen men were sitting at round tables engaged in heavy talk. A rather well-built man offered a toast. “Aw, a celebration,” Angelica said to no one, backed away from the curtain and headed toward the dressing room.
As Angelica entered the room, the reception was lukewarm. “Hey, Angel,” said several of the girls as Angelica walked toward her locker.
“Hey, yourself,” Angelica said, throwing an appreciative smile their way. These girls didn’t judge, at least not openly, and it kept things in perspective because Angelica was only there to make a paycheck like the rest of them.
“We’ve got ourselves a nice crowd tonight, Angel,” Desiree said. “The money is going to be gooooooood. And the way I heard you were working your thang last night, you might have a down payment on a nice automobile when you’re through.”
Angelica laughed and patted Desiree on the arm. “I’m going to put it on them, girlfriend.”
The others turned to look at Angelica and Desiree as they filled the room with laughter.
“Can’t be that funny,” Kiki said, rolling her eyes.
“It was to us,” Angelica said, looking back at Desiree, who started laughing again and slapped Angelica five.
“Get this, you too old to suck a momma’s tit, wanna-be stripper. Those men,” Kiki pointed toward the club, “want a fine, young tenderoni such as myself. Day-old bread won’t do. You might as well leave now because the only thing you’ll be counting tonight is change.” Kiki dropped a penny on the floor for emphasis.
There was no breathing or moving in the room. The air was thick, and the music that played in the other room seemed louder than ever. Angelica put her hands on her hips and twisted her lips into a scowl.
“Normally, I wouldn’t stoop this low to an uneducated, brainless bitch like you. You wished you knew what I know. I can turn tables around your sorry ass, and I’ve made men faint at the sound of my name. I’m the last of the real diva pole queens. Sweetie, I bet you’ve never picked up five Gs from one person on a single dance. You need to watch me work.”
Kiki sneered at her, but Angelica had turned and walked away. Kiki was livid.
“What are you heifers looking at?” Kiki shouted at the group.
The others dismissed Kiki with a swing of their hands. She walked off in a huff, eyeing Angel with a carnivorous stare. “We’ll see about that,” Kiki said under her breath.
“Show time in thirty minutes,” Desiree shouted. “Tonight’s lineup: Michelle, Foxy, Toya, Lovey, Misty, Arnell, Kiki, and Angel.”
“Oh, no!” Kiki shouted. “I’m not going in front of the old bag.”
“’Fraid I’ll clean up what you couldn’t get?” Angelica said.
“I ain’t afraid of an ole goat like you,” Kiki roared back. “I’m not going on before a has-been. You have heard of saving the best for last.” Kiki pointed her finger at Angelica.
“You stupid, simple-minded, little bitch. You can go last because no one is going to be interested in a newborn infant, especially after I give them what they came for. Savor the flavor because you’ll be the one counting the change tonight, honey. Not another word from you.”
Kiki tried to speak but Angelica threw her hand up and everyone else ignored her.
Michelle, Foxy, Toya, Lovey, Misty, and Arnell had completed their sets and were gleaming with sweat and dollar bills.
“There’s enough Benjamins to go around. This crowd is in the giving mood,” Misty said.
That was great, Angelica thought. She suddenly remembered Ari’s words about being out of his house by the end of the week. It frightened her, but payday was around the corner.
“Angel, you’re on,” Desiree called out. “Shake what your momma gave you, girl.”
“I’m already shaking it, Desi,” Angelica said. They laughed.
Angelica felt the energy. She looked out into the crowd, and the room was filled to capacity-men in business suits, casual players in polo shirts, and men off the street looking for a good time and a couple of beers. They came in a variety of colors and ethnicities-white, black, Hispanic, Italian, Puerto Rican, you name it. They were there to have a good time and fantasize about how hot it would be to roll with the beautiful women who danced on stage.
A white, felt cowboy hat sat on Angelica’s head. She wore an off-white midriff bolero and an ultra-short matching skirt that consisted of one-inch strips that were attached at the waist. Underneath the cowboy costume, rhinestones trimmed Angelica’s skimpy, shimmery gold top that circled the outermost parts of her breasts, while a G-string wrapped her bottom like gold ribbon on a Christmas package. Her four-inch, gold pointed-toe stilettos made her feel like the queen diva she knew she was.
As the music played, Angelica sashayed to the center of the stage, enunciating her hips as she did so, her body glistening under the glare of the stage lights. Whistles from the men teased her on, and she made up her mind that she was going to give them the thrill of their lives.
The intro finished playing, and Angelica reached for the pole as the drummer’s cymbal crashed. The beat was sultry and pulsating, and Angelica’s hips made quick jabs in and out, eventually taking the pole between her legs and sliding down the length of it. Her body gyrated until she was on the floor, and then pulling up swiftly, she let go of the pole and rubbed her hands seductively against the length of her body. At the urging of the crowd, Angelica made seductive movements with her body and dropped her shoulders back, letting the bolero slide off her shoulders and down her arms. In one swift move, she snatched at the side of her skirt that was held together with Velcro. She pulled it from her body and threw it out into the crowd. She turned and looked at the pole, bending her body at the waist, shaking her heart-shaped buttocks in the air. The applause and the roar of the crowd pushed Angelica to the edge.
Standing upright, Angelica’s body rippled and screamed at the crowd that begged her to do more or take it all off. Angelica sensually licked her lips and wiggled her tongue, then jumped on the pole midway, extending one leg upward with the other wrapped around it. She brought one arm out to the side and spun around the pole, finally pulling herself upright. She danced with the pole like it was her lover, making grown men howl for more.
Finally releasing the pole, Angelica switched her way to center stage and let her body rip.
“Take it off, Angel,” someone screamed. “Take it off.”
“I love you, Angel,” said another.
“Shake it, baby. Shake it for meeeeeee!”
Angelica moved closer to the edge of the stage, her body still gyrating in the faces of her adoring fans. Money seemed to fall from the sky as bills in all denominations were either placed in her G-string or dropped to the floor. Then, in one swift move, Angelica removed her top and mayhem broke loose.
Men scrambled over each other, trying to get up on the stage to touch the golden-bronze goddess. Dollar bills continued to rain as Angelica continued to dance. Alarm showed on Angelica’s face as the crowd continued to advance, and she looked at Gerald Lloyd to see if it was time to cut it off. Getting no sign from Gerald, Angelica looked back into the crowd and saw the money that was being flung her way. She needed a place to live and she only had three days left at Ari’s. This was the payday that might make it happen, so all thoughts of abandoning her out of control admirers were set aside. Angelica moved to the edge and stooped down to scoop up the paper bills. She stopped short when five crisp one-hundred-dollar bills were placed under her chin.
“You’re beautiful. How about a private dance?”
The voice was familiar and so was the face, although it had been a long time since she had seen or heard from him. Angelica tried to cover her breasts with the handful of paper money she held in one hand, but the five one-hundred-dollar bills distracted her from her sudden embarrassment.
“Robert Santiago,” Angelica said slowly.
“Oh my angel, you remembered. I’m flattered. So it’s Angel now?”
“It’s my stage name.”
“Dinner afterward? I would love to catch up for old time’s sake.”
“I’m not sure it would be a good idea.”
“I’ll make it worth your while.” Santiago placed the money in her hand. “I’ll be waiting.”
Angelica stared after Santiago as he disappeared into the crowd. She picked up the few bills that remained on the floor and blew the crowd a kiss. The set was complete, and the crowd was calling Angel’s name.
Angelica nearly ran to the dressing room, passing a smirking Kiki. Flustered, she placed her night’s take on the table and caught her breath, leaning her head on her open palms with elbows planted squarely on the table. She jumped when she felt cold hands on her back.
“Girl, you rocked the house,” Desiree said. “They’re still screaming your name. Kiki went out there and they were shouting, ‘We want Angel. We want Angel.’”
Angelica turned to face Desiree.
“Are you all right, Angel?”
“Yeah, Desi, I’m fine. I just saw a ghost.”
“What do you mean you saw a ghost?”
“Someone from my past that I’ve tried to forget.” Angelica pulled the five one-hundred-dollar bills out from the pile of crumpled bills.
“Damn, that’s a big tip. Put that out of sight,” Desiree whispered. “Don’t let anyone know you have it. You want to talk?”
“Not right now, Desi. Maybe later.”
“I’m here for you, girl, but you know you’ve got to go back out there. They are emptying their pockets for you.”
“Yeah, I know,” Angelica said half-heartedly. “I delivered, and they paid. I was on a high, you know. Wanted to show that simple-minded Kiki how a real pole dancer did it. Never expected to see him again.”
“I can give you a ride home tonight, if you like,” Desiree offered. “If it will make you feel better.”
“I appreciate it, Desiree, but I’ll take a cab. Don’t want you to have to go way out of your way. I’ll be all right.” Angelica paused. “Thanks for being a friend.”
“Girl, you’re all right in my book,” Desiree said. She patted Angelica’s back. “I knew you were special the moment I first laid eyes on you.”
A look of surprise covered Angelica’s face. She looked up at Desiree and smiled. They both turned toward the commotion at the entrance to the dressing room.
Kiki was arguing with Gerald Lloyd. Her hands were flying in the air and her mouth was going a mile a minute. Gerald was up in her face, and his fingers were swishing back and forth like windshield wipers. Kiki took her hands and pushed him in the chest, and, then walked in Angelica’s direction, Gerald walking right behind her.
Kiki threw her hands in the air. “You owe me, bitch. You went out there and stole my money. I’ve got a baby who needs milk and Pampers, and your old ass is in here cuz you ain’t got nothing else to do.”
“Ignore Kiki, Angel,” Gerald Lloyd said. “She’s having a bad day.”
“I don’t need you to talk for me,” Kiki screamed. “She’s gonna pay for this!”
“It’s all right, Mr. Lloyd. I can handle this.” As Angelica stood and stared at Kiki, Gerald Lloyd backed away. “Poor, poor, Kiki. Didn’t make enough money to buy her baby some milk?”
Kiki raised her hand.
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Angelica said, throwing her hand up to block Kiki’s hand. “Next time, you’ll be careful what you ask for. Last is what you wanted, and last is what you got. You have no one to blame but yourself. I told you before you got in my face that you were no match for me. You’re cocky, ignorant with mush for brains, and if you had only listened to the advice this old ass gave you, you would have fared much better.
“I believe there’s hope for you Kiki, but before you go around attacking people because of your inexperience and insecurities, use your head for something other than a coat rack. You’ll be better off.”
“I’ll sue you first. Those men out there were my customers.”
Angelica peeled off a twenty-dollar bill and pushed it into Kiki’s hand. “Get your baby some milk and Pampers.”
Kiki stared at Angelica with tears welling up in her eyes. She slapped the money away, walked to the restroom and slammed the door.