CHAPTER 4 - SEEING THINGS

Liam Irish settled into his usual seat in the back corner of The Foxy Lady strip club. He didn’t like being up close. There were too many loud mouths and creeps pounding back Jack Daniel’s and yelling profanities at the dancers, for his liking. Besides, Liam preferred to be alone with his thoughts.

Savannah Porsche was just finishing her show. Liam liked Savannah. Using ribbons as her dance prop, she slowly unwrapped herself, like a package, creating an elegant frenzy of color around her curvy, near naked body. The grace in which she unraveled herself, then the final flutter of ribbons around the stage, made Liam think of the tails of kites flying freely in the breeze. There was a spacious field near a lake, where, as a boy, he used to fly kites with his grandfather. He remembered the freedom he felt when the kite finally got picked up by the air current and was carried away. How it made his heart lift, like he was the kite itself. The colorful ribbons caught in the sunlight, quivered and swirled in the wind. Liam thought it was beautiful, then and now. Then he remembered having to return home to his hard-drinking father and prostitute mother, the poverty and misery. His grandfather had been his only mentor, his only friend, and then he had died.

            The house lights dimmed to almost black as the music stopped, and Savannah Porsche disappeared into the darkness. Without a break, another song started. It was soft and sensual, an R&B piece, not the usual raunchy songs most of the strippers played. First he only saw a leg, long and lanky, move with the music. The dancer was in shadow at the very back of the stage. Whoever was attached to that leg had to be gorgeous, Liam thought to himself. He wasn’t familiar with this piece, or, he thought, with this dancer.

SALON ANTICS

Chapter 1 - JUST ANOTHER DAY

Liam Irish was bored. A week into Lent, he hadn’t had a drink in over a week, therefore, he hadn’t gone out to The Foxy Lady strip joint, or to his favorite fetish club, Down Under. Although he considered himself an Atheist, he had been raised Catholic. Some rituals were ingrained in him, so he used the more familiar rites and holidays as a time to challenge his will power. This year he was quitting alcohol for the duration of Lent, which, he discovered, also included his personal indulgence of biweekly visits to sex clubs. It seemed he couldn’t manage one without the other.

At the onset, Liam had not considered the forty days of restraint to be difficult, but it was day seven, and he already found himself surfing internet porn sites to quench his thirst for voyeurism. Somehow, and in true Catholic form, Liam didn’t feel this indulgence fit into the category he had given up – thank god!

CHAPTER 13 – COMPROMISING

           Joanie lifted her head from the warm pillow and looked around. Even with the curtains drawn, the room was bright. Her eyes focused on a dark figure sitting on the love-seat in the corner of her bedroom. Was it Peter? She blinked to clear her vision, not believing what she saw. Shoulders slumped, he looked worn and tired. Hollowed cheeks and the dark circles that framed his eyes made him look emaciated. His hair was a mess. Not the tousled, handsome looking mess she was accustomed to with him, but dirty and un-kept. His skin, once clear and blemish-free, was dry and chafed.

            “Peter! What are you doing here? What’s going on?”

CHAPTER 12 – SECRETS REVEALED

Joanie awoke to birds singing and the bright light of sunshine streaming through the window. She covered her eyes, then slowly opened them and looked around. Things felt familiar to her. It smelled like home, but she had no idea how she got there. Her bed felt safe and warm, and she was happy to be under her own covers. But before she was able to get too comfortable, memories from the previous night began filtering into her head. She closed her eyes again, hoping this would stop the recall, but it didn’t. It only made it worse.

            “Well hello. Look who’s awake.” Joanie jumped, but relaxed when she saw who it was.

            “Oh, Ruthie, I’m so glad you’re here,” Joanie sighed. “What happened? Where is everyone? Where’s Jake?”

            “Which question do you want me to answer first?”

            “Sorry.” Again, Joanie closed her eyes. All she could see was Jake’s face, sullen and stricken with pain. Then the vision faded into an image of Peter looking cocky and pleased with himself. He sneered at her from across the dance floor. She shook her head in an attempt to get rid of this frightful picture, but it wouldn’t go away.

CHAPTER 11 – AN UNEXPECTED GUEST

Joanie sat backstage, alone. All around her the hustle and bustle of show preparations were in full-swing. Stylists with clothing piled over their arms were racing around, orders were being shouted. It was total chaos. But in Joanie’s private corner in the stage-left wing, she was able to find a moment’s solace. Carlyle and Ruth had insisted on it. Jake had said nothing.

            Oh, why did Peter have to do that? Joanie thought. She let her head fall into her hands, careful not to smudge her make-up but not really caring if she did. It had been one of the most embarrassing moments of her life – the unbearable silence that followed her reading that damn card out loud. Why did I have to broadcast it to the world? she had cried to Ruth and Carlyle after everyone else had left to find their seats. It was awful. She ran over the sequence of events in her head once again, the look on Jake’s face when she finished reading. He had turned a bright shade of crimson, tried to produce a natural smile as he said, “Wow, you sure do have some secret admirer.” But he knew, and so did she. Joanie had taken his arm to steer him away from the crowd then, to grab a moment and try to explain, but he had quietly pulled away.

            “Listen, Joan,” he said. “We’ll talk about it later. Let’s just get through this night, okay?”

            She had nodded, in agreement and in defeat. She could feel the coolness coming from Jake, the hurt. It was at that moment Ruth came by to try to help smooth things over, but she only made matters worse.

            “Hey Jo Jo, we should get you backstage. You’ve got a show to do.” Jake had looked at Joanie with pain-filled eyes.

“I guess Jo Jo is the nickname your closest friends…your loved ones call you. Who knew?” He was sullen and broken. Joanie felt sick.

“Well, break a leg,” he had said, eyes diverted, then gave her a little kiss on the forehead and walked away.

“Joanie? Joanie, there you are.” Joanie arose from her trance and looked up to see her friend, Ruth, standing before her with a brave, supportive smile on her face.

“C’mon girl, you can do this. I know you can. Hey, things have been worse, right? Just remember, Jake adores you. He’s just hurt right now, and can’t express it. You can explain everything afterward, but he’s right. You’ve gotta get through this evening.” Joanie took a deep breath.

“You’re right, Ruthie. Of course you’re right. Since when have I let a man run my life or ruin it?”

“Since forever, but never mind. It’s never too late to change.” She gave Joanie a hug. “Now get out there and watch those girls strut your stuff.”

CHAPTER 10 – THE BOMBSHELL

Other than it being extremely hectic, the week passed uneventfully. Joanie, of course, was more organized than she realized. The white stitching on the navy pantsuit looked classy, and the beadwork on the emerald evening dress, chic. All her other designs; the black, zip-up Lycra pantsuit, the brown and taupe striped bomber jacket with matching stretch mini-skirt, the black sequin bolero over a flaming red strapless silk midi, were in the final stages of completion before the pre-rehearsal fitting later that afternoon. And of course the body-hugging, toffee-toned cocktail dress with layered chiffon overlay in lavender, the event favorite, was being fussed-over by Allan, Joanie’s personal design assistant, who recently came on-board to help Sara and Brandy out. All her favorite models, those who Joanie had used many times in the past, were at the ready. Hair and make-up were lined up.

Joanie took a gulp of coffee and set the mug down beside her laptop, careful to place it on a stable surface. She didn’t need a spill and computer meltdown now.

“Wow, Jo Jo, this is the first time in weeks I’ve seen you stationary, and drinking your coffee while it’s still hot.” Ruth plopped herself down in the chair beside her friend. Joanie laughed.

“And it’s the first time I’ve seen you laugh out-loud in ages too. Good lord, what’s next?”

“C’mon Ruthie, give me a break. You’d be just the same way if you were in my shoes.”

“No. I’d be worse. So, what’s the deal for tomorrow? Is Mr. Perfect bringing you down here with his driver? You know, you’re not allowed to be here until show-time. Bad luck, or something.”

“His name is Jake, and yes, he’s bringing me. We probably won’t show up till just after seven. I want to wait until the place fills up a little.”

“Good idea. Be a little mysterious.”