2019-08-01 - Lazy Sunday?

The club owner has his laptop open on the bar at this early hour, with his typical Dirty Grey Goose martini directly alongside. The screen appears to be displaying a spreadsheet with financials, and -- judging from Antonio's broad smile -- the returns are quite happy indeed. Swirling his drink and taking a sip, he shoots his eye over toward the stage where a couple earlybird customers have gathered.

The song that comes on is bumping with base, and there isn't any buildup before Zoiya pushes out from backstage. She's wearing leather booty shorts and a loose chainmail top. A biker hat is perched on her head and her boots are knee-high, leather and heeled. This puts her over six feet and it's six feet of woman who knows how to move.

When the music starts to move, so does she, bouncing her ass as she holds on to the pole in front of her. She lets herself arch backwards, her hat falling to the stage, her hair fanning out to sweep against the glitter on the floor.

She drops it like it's hot, and as she slowly stands back to her full height she's shaking her ass. A simple clasp at the neck drops chainmail to the ground, the noise a tinkling counterpoint to the music and it's kicked back toward the curtain. No tape this time, no pasties, her nippes are a dark rose color, high on her breasts.

She puts her spine against the pole, swaying her hips back and forth, bouncing to the beat of the loud song. She takes hold of the pole, swinging around in an arching circle that ends with her sliding on her knees, close to the customers. One man tucks a bill into her pocket, and she blows him a kiss, winking in his direction before she completes her dance. Happy Sunday Afternoon.

"That's a nice little number -- good outfit." Antonio's eyes track the dancer's movements on the stage, his approval obvious as she shakes, shimmies, and eventually ends up topless. "Now you're just trying to show off, huh? Easily gonna become one of the star moneymakers of this place, with that ass and that talent." The boss's words carry from the bar before as he takes another sip of his mixed drink.

"Think I'll hire a photographer soon, post on Friendzone or some shit like that. Gotta get some good photos up on the website -- I want people to drive from a hundred miles away to see what we're doing here, y'know?" His grin broadens. "Best little place around."

She doesn't pick up a shirt before she makes her way to the bar, taking a seat and gesturing for some water. "It's Sunday, why cover anything. Not gonna get a lot of takers this afternoon anyway." Zoiya murmurs, uncapping her water to drink from it. She listens to the change in music, giving her attention to the stage for a few minutes, watching a red-headed woman strut and move. "Well, if you post good enough pictures, maybe you'll get some outsider nibbles. Sure." She takes another drink and pours some water on her palm, rubbing against the back of her neck so the cold water will trickle down her spine. "It's hot out today, I can feel it in here even with the air."

"It's always hot when you're on shift, isn't it?" The boss laughs at his own bad joke, tilting the laptop's screen so that it's in full view of the dancer. "Not too bad for our first couple days, is it? Especially when you and Dahlia are on, we're making bank. I owe you, sweetie. Give ya a nice bonus for some website photos, too." He winks once and then leans in to say something quietly, swirling his mixed drink.

Zoiya leans to the side a bit, her eyes on the laptop, the numbers make her quirk a brow and then she's sitting up straight. "I like the sound of bonus, bonus pays the bills." She listens to his quiet words, her lips pursed slightly. "About that.." She leans in to say something quietly to him, taking a sip of water when she's finished. "You need a tech around here or anything? Someone to keep track of website stuff and the like?"

"Yeah, that sounds about right. Website, lights, sound system... maybe make some improvements eventually. You know someone?" As she leans in to whisper, Antonio's lips curl upward into a knowing smile. "You know how to direct business to the right place, huh? That's good. I like you -- and not just because you're gonna help make me rich. Good head on your shoulders, too." He winks, draining his martini at a steady pace on this lazy Sunday afternoon.

"I think I do know someone, let me make sure, and if it works out, I'll send him your way." Zoiya shakes her head and looks amused, the tips of her inked fingers toying with her water bottle. "I've been around the block a few times, boss. Been there, done that, got the t-shirt." She glances down at her naked chest and wrinkles her nose. "Obviously didn't keep the t-shirt, right?" She rubs her thumb over her first and middle finger, her voice low and throaty. "Just remember me when it happens. The more I'm appreciated, the more I do."

"You keep draining those wallets -- with or without a shirt on -- and I'll keep you well taken care of, sweetie. Gotta keep my talent happy if I want to -succeed-, if y'know what I mean." The boss winks, cocking his head over to the ATM as if to accentuate his point. "If you find me a good tech guy, I'll make sure there's a referral bonus for you, too." He drinks to the promise of more, that smirk staying ever-present on his lips. "No bullshit from the cops yet, either. I want it to stay that way."

"I should warn you, you had one in here opening night. I know him, he's trouble. Big trouble." Zoiya clenches her jaw, fingers tapping on the bar before she turns to gaze at Antonio. "I haven't seen him in a while, so I have no idea what kind of sway I might have over him, but I guess we'll see. He's a bulky looking dude, speaks Spanish, looks like grumpy cat having a real shitty day. If you see someone like that in here, be careful." She rolls her eyes, uncapping her water again. "All these bonuses, I might be able to buy furniture sooner rather than later. I want a big big bed with pillow top. Mmm."

"I'll keep my eyes out. Nothing like some overzealous fuckups trying to get my dancers framed on trumped-up charges, right? As if they're doing anyone a favor by soliciting extras in the backroom and then slapping the cuffs on. They just like the power and getting their rocks off, that's all. Losers, not making anyone safer or improving anyone's life." Antonio clearly has an opinion about the vice squad, whether by way of past experience or otherwise. "Pillowtop, huh? Keep up your star performance and you'll get whatever type of top you want." There's another wink as he drains his martini, pushing it forward on the bar for another.

"Oh, I think he's more likely to attempt to actually fuck your dancers, rather than arrest them. Though, I've been on both sides of that with him, and .. it was interesting." Zoiya looks far away for a moment as memories distract her. Her water is sipped and she shrugs a shoulder. "He's an unknown quantity, in a way. I can't ever tell what he might do, so just be careful." She lets out a soft laugh, capping her water so she can shake it back and forth. "Damn right I will."

"Well, if he's just a horndog, that poses less risk to our little enterprise than if he's looking to book people. Thanks for giving me the heads-up, sweetie." The bartender silently mixes another drink for the club boss, sliding it forward across the bar. "Appreciate you looking out for my best interests -- our best interests, that is." He winks, giving her a mock salute with the martini glass before drinking again.

"I like making money, and I like trouble. I don't like a lot of trouble, so it's best to try to get that straight before it becomes a problem." Zoiya smirks at the term horndog, suppressing her laughter by taking a drink from her bottle. "He'll give you shit, but I think he won't give you too much." She glances at the stage, watching the act wind down. "I want to keep my job. Have bills to pay and shit."

"Well-managed trouble, yeah. Enough to keep it interesting, but not enough that it gets crazy. I like your philosophy, sweetie." Antonio is seated at the bar with a topless Zoiya, sipping from his martini glass. His attention is drawn to the stage, where a curvy redhead is in the last throngs of shaking her ass and collecting a few tips from a couple of fairly stingy day-shift customers.

"Maybe offer him something to grease up the squeaky wheel." Zoiya suggests, but she won't say what kind of grease he should use. Watching people squirm and figure things out on their own is kind of a hobby of hers. She lets out a sigh, watching the stage. "Sunday's are always so depressing. Why can't everything be crazy like a Friday or Saturday." She narrows her eyes, glancing back toward Antonio. "Sundays are for eating cereal and watching cartoons." Obviously today is his fault.

"Can still make good -money- on a Sunday afternoon, sweetie. Just gotta find the big fish, grab him and reel that sucker in." Antonio purports to offer the dancer advice she likely doesn't need -- and that she's more expert in than he. Swirling his mixed drink and taking another sip, the boss looks to the stage with a smirk. "She's nice enough, but not much for interacting with the customers, eh? Could take some lessons from you sometime." His smirk broadens.

When Blake steps in after going through the requisite hoops, he pulls his black hoodie down, as instructed by the bouncers on the way in. Something about the look in the guy's eyes must have tipped them off that they'd need to tell him. About thirty seconds of Blake looking around, and someone says, "Go in man."

Blake moves to the bar by default and takes a seat so he can scan from there. He eventually spots her not far, then swivels to face the bar when he sees she's busy.

"You would need to pay me extra to give lessons. I'm a busy girl. Places to go, people to do, things to see. Cereal to eat." Zoiya smirks over at Antonio, her eyes cutting toward the stage. "Some people just aren't comfortable right away. You have to be comfortable naked before you can be comfortable naked." She spots Blake when he takes a seat, her arm moving over her head to yell at him. She's not wearing any kind of top, so it causes bouncing. Lovely. "Blake, c'mere. I want you to meet someone." She turns her head toward Antonio. "He says he knows computers, maybe he knows your.. thing." She makes a vague motion with her hand. She's not computer savvy.

"Yeah, and besides, suppose being the star performer is to your benefit, I suppose." Antonio smirks back at the topless dancer as the next song hits the sound system. Inclining his head to Blake, the club owner's smile stays plastered across his face. "Welcome to our little club. The best tits and drinks in town, y'know what I mean?"

Blake straightens back up and steps down to come over. He looks at Antonio out of the corner of his eyes first as he passes to stand next to Zoiya. "Your text was cryptic," he reports. Then he looks to Antonio and offers a single nod, "Thanks. I wouldn't know." His tone is matter of fact and his gaze is fleeting, like he's always keeping track of what might be in the corner.

Zoiya leans in, has a few quiet words with Antonio and then she has a smile for Blake. "It wasn't that cryptic. I just wanted to know what kind of cereal you liked." She glances down at her bare chest, and up at her roommate. Rude. "Star performer, that's a lot to live up to. You better be careful, I might get all diva like and start demanding things." She gestures for the bartender to approach. "Get him whatever he wants." She's fairly certain he won't order liquor though.

"Don't know about tits, huh? More of an ass man. I like it -- me too." Antonio winks once to Blake, giving him a raised salute of his glass. "Antonio Williams, owner and operator, at your service. You need anything to help you relax and enjoy yourself here, you just let me know. I see you already met some of the best talent." That smirk of his persists.

As if on cue, the club's music has shifted again as a blonde spinner-type takes the stage. "~~You know what to do with that big fat butt.~" She doesn't, actually, but her routine draws a few singles from the customers.

"Oh," Blake pulls out his phone and unlocks it to fiddle with it a moment. "I was scrolled up." He just shakes his head to the bartender, apparently not needing the service. His attention shifts back to Antonio. Blake doesn't /dispute/ whether he's an ass man or not, but he doesn't have a glass to return the gesture. "Anything like what?" This offer seems to have reached into his neural synapses. "Yeah. I think we get along well enough." Then he looks back to Zoiya for a moment before looking to Antonio. "Someone told me a club needed help with computer stuff. Is that you?" His gaze is not drawn by the blonde.

Zoiya sings along with the song for a few beats, bouncing on her stool as she watches the blonde on stage. "I think I'm up next." She frowns and uncaps her bottle of water, taking a swig. She points at Antonio and smiles. "It's him. Just tell him all that internet stuff you said to me before and he'll probably understand it." She rolls her eyes and slips off her stool. "I'm gonna go get dressed, I'll be back after my set." She gives Blake a gentle pat on the shoulder as she passes him, lingering near the stage for a beat so she can shimmy along to the music with, laughing as she blonde shimmies with her.

"Anything you need, my man. Drinks, chair dances, VIP champagne dances." He leans in and says something else quietly, letting the words linger for a moment before he drinks from his martini glass. "Yeah, could use a techie. Someone to help with the website, lights and sound system, maybe help me with the security cameras. You good at that type of shit, my man?" Antonio's grin widens as he poses the question, and then his eyes track Zoiya's movements up toward the stage. "She's real good. Helping me put this place on the map, if you know what I mean."

"I'm a cybersecurity engineer. I can set you up if you want," when Blake was twelve he could have done it in his sleep, "but I'm not a stage tech." No. This guy wouldn't even fit in with that group either. "People usually pay me to tell them how to keep digital information or networks safe, devices on the grid. Companies." If he does anything else, he doesn't seem inclined to go advertising it around. "But a job's a job." He watches after Zoiya, a faint grin. "She makes people happy. In the mood for fun." A woman with a nice figure is a dime a dozen apparently, and those parts of Zoiya's talents go without saying.

The familiar strains of that TLC song blast over the speakers, just as Zoiya struts from behind the curtain. She's wearing a pair of loose silk pajamas, colored a dark garnet red. The top is barely buttoned and the bottoms are hanging loosely on her hips. The dance is slow, seductive, inked fingers skimming the few flashes of skin that shows as she moves. She moves closer to the edge of the stage, her painted toe-nails peeking out from the pants as she kneels in front of a patron.

Baby it's yours, all yours, if you want it tonight. I'll give you the red light special, all through the night.

She tilts her head up, her chest pushed out, a wicked smile on her face. He plucks the one button holding her top together and she favors him with a kiss on the cheek before she stands up straight. Now the shirt flaps open with every movement, nothing beneath it. Every so often one might get a flash of bare breasts as she continues to dance, but she keeps the top on.

The chorus starts again and she rolls her hips, thumbs in the waistband of the pants. She sways her hips back and forth, slowly lowering the silk over her hips to drop down her thighs. She lets the pants fall to her feet and she steps from the slippery fabric, leaving her in a pair of lacy red panties. She sways to the whine of the guitar, her eyes closing, arms above her head.

The song starts to wind down, and she pulls the silk of her pajama top close to her body, the fabric parted enough to give flashes of skin, more peek-a-boo than anything else.

Come to my door, take off my clothes, turn on the red light.

He tucks a bill into her panties just as the song eases off and ends. She doesn't vacate the stage right away, speaking to one of the few men seated near the stage area. Her hazel eyes flit toward the bar briefly, and since Antonio and Blake seem to be getting along, she'll allow the patron to talk to her. Especially if he's giving her money.

"This is a -great- fucking throwback, man. Gotta mix it up sometimes -- can't do all clubby booty music all the time, y'know? Red light special." Antonio's enthusiastic approval is obvious as he looks toward the stage, sipping from his martini as he listens to the newcomer. "Cybersecurity, huh? I like the sound of it, but I'm runnin' a small operation here. If you got web design chops and you can help with my security system, I'll pay you well. More of a contractor-type job, y'know? No benefits or any stupid shit like that." The club boss's smirk grows at what's whispered between them. "You have fine tastes. Would have to get that shit for you, but happy to do so. Got more, uh, mainstream stuff in my office if that's your jam, too." He winks once, shifting his gaze between the engineer and the dancer in lace.

"Yeah. I can take care of that stuff for you. I know my shit." Blake turns to watch Zoiya as she works when Antonio crows with approval. "I'm freelancing right now. Not interested in being on anyone's payroll. That sounds perfect." Then he looks to Antonio. "I'd appreciate it. Sure, whatever you're having. I'm down." Not picky apparently. When he notices Zoiya looking their way, his grin broadens a little. "I bet you want the security system done first?"

Zoiya pats the customer on the cheek, which earns her another bill in her panties. Unlike before she moves to collect the pants, pulling them up over her hips, tying them at the waist. No buttons are secured on her top, but she's not really flashing anyone right now. She walks over to the bar, plucking bills from her pants, swearing lightly when one escapes to fall down into her pant leg. It takes a little bit of maneuvering to collect it, but she's nothing if not a lady. She takes a seat, counts out her tips and gestures to the bartender. "I think I'll dip my toes into Sunday, give me a double. Whiskey." She slaps down a twenty, pockets the rest.

"I set up a few cameras already, but you can probably help get them running on the software and all that shit. And if you want to install more shit, just let me know -- front you the money, of course. I don't need to make this place a fortress, -but- I want to be able to track back what happened if something goes wrong, y'know what I mean?" He winks once and stands from his barstool, taking his drink in hand. "You wanna join me in my office for a little bit of the good vintage?" He offers the invitation to Blake with a smirk, inclining his head to Zoiya as well. "You wanna come relax a lil?"

"Yeah. I saw them. You have some blind spots. A lot of it is just efficient positioning for coverage." There's no criticism in the man's voice. Blake's seems to process a little like a system himself, as if he were recalling some information he filed away earlier. "Yeah we can talk about all that. It won't take long," but it's not really a conversation to talk about in the middle of the club apparently as Blake doesn't tease it out of the other man. "Okay," he answers. "Hey," he offers to Zoiya with one of his subtle smiles. "You coming?"

Zoiya nods at Blake and Antonio, waiting for her whiskey to be given to her. "Let me get my drink, and then yeah. We can go talk." The glass is set down in front of her, she winks at the bartender and slips to her feet again. She walks toward the office, looking quite relaxed and even a bit pleased with how her Sunday is going.