Both Isabelle and Lily gave me confused looks and honestly, I couldn't blame them. They just assumed that I was dancing because the nice maid, er, whatever she really was, didn't explain anything.
"Okay, let's clarify the term, strippers," Isabelle said, "That we are not. We prefer the label, dancers. Besides, we get paid hourly with bids, not they typical cash that men throw at us."
Lily nodded and added, "And if you're a dancer, then what are you doing here? The boss wouldn't fly a random chick out here for anything else."
I explained to them my unfortunate situation and they seem to understand it somewhat. They were still confused to why their boss, whose name I found out was Elijah Giordano, didn't do a thing like this very often.
All of their workers were vetted by the boss himself and especially weren't found in some shithole club in Louisiana.
Then again, Richard was indebted to the guy, so maybe selling labor was the only way to buy himself some time to pay it off.
"Look," Isabelle commented, "I don't think you're here to wait tables. If your boss traded you to another club, it's probably for a different job."
"But...I've never done anything like this. I don't even know where to start."
"Hence why Lydia brought you to us," Lily said, putting her hands on my shoulders. "Thanks, Ms.Cortez. We got it from here."
The lady left the room and the rest of the girls resumed trying on different lingerie and applying makeup. Lily and Isabelle escorted me through the room and into another that turned out to be a dance studio with six strip-er-dancer poles scattered around. Above on the ceiling dangled silk ropes, the kind you'd see at Cirque du Soleil.
"Do you have any history with gymnastics or dance," Isabelle asked.
"Gymnastics. Flips and stunts, yeah, no."
"Hm, I see we'll be starting from scratch, then."
"Um, what is exactly will I be doing?"
"Well here, the requirements for a dancer are gymnastic experience along with ballet training and a social skill course."
It seemed a bit much for a job in this field, but I understood. At the El Royale, the girls had to be fit and work out enough to stay healthy. It also made sense that a place like this would have higher standards. "So basically, be flexible and nice?"
"Pretty much, but it's not all smiles and high kicks," Lily said as she walked over to one of the poles. She grabbed it with both hands and hoisted herself into a side handstand, then spread her legs to form a split, all while spinning.
She finished the piece by returning to the ground and rose both hands for a pose.
"It's mostly about the presentation," she continued, "You need to know how to execute performances flawlessly."
I took a few steps forward, examining the room a bit more, trying to get comfortable being in here.
"And if I can't?"
They both exchanged a quick look.
"There is no can't here, Anna,�� Lily said, "We do what we're given. No exceptions."
"Alright," Isabelle, said, "let's start with basic flexibility."
~*~
After about two hours of training, the girls concluded that I'd need about a week of training before I make my debut.
After the training, I was brought into a classroom-like room where a woman named Mrs.Davina examined my behavior, posture, and Etiquette.
Apparently, my skills in the gym weren't the only thing I needed to work on. She critiqued everything from split ends in my hair to how wide my smile should be.
I always assumed I was a nice person and took care of myself well, but the etiquette coach gave me the impression that everything about me needed to change.
I knew not to believe her, though. You can't reach perfection by changing who you are because it didn't exist.
Still, I didn't have a choice. Me being here wasn't something that I wanted. I need to follow the rules and do what the coach and the girls want me to do. Not change me, but rather act.
Let's just hope it'll be enough.
"We can go get some dinner now if you want. Since we work for the hotel, we get to eat for free in the dining hall," Isabelle said.
Finally, food. I hadn't eaten anything since that quick fruit bowl snack I was given after my pole dancing class.
"Great, I'm starving. Oh, there isn't a strict diet I'm supposed to follow right?"
"No, not really. As long as we follow the workout regime and don't binge, we're set to eat whatever we want."
"Perfect, let's go."
During the day, I got to meet some more girls, most of them stuck up as Lily noted. I guess getting paid thousands of dollars a day and living in a luxury hotel lets people think they're above others, especially new girls.
There were others, though, who were nice and accommodating, and didn't seem to mind that I was there. It's not like I was stealing clients from them. We're not paid out of pocket which seemed better than out of pocket from random people.
Lily and Isabelle escorted me to the dining area that actually looked more like a ballroom. It was so beautiful and elegant, I never thought for a fraction of a minute that I'd be in a place as luxurious as this.
I almost felt bad for myself. I came from nothing. I had nothing to give except decent service as a waiter, or my depressing history with drugs.
The El Royale may not have been high class or anything, but it did pull me out of my bad habits.
I shook my head and focused on the details of the room again to keep my focus on reality.
I've never known black to complement white marble so well. The dark floors and stone tables really gave an Adams family turned Breakfast at Tiffany's vibe.
"This place is stunning," I mumbled.
Lily chuckled. "I know right. The boss's mother was an architect and designed this entire place."
"Wow."
We were seated near the center of the room and handed menus. It had everything you'd expect at a five-star hotel. From prime bone-in rib-eye steak to bacon-wrapped sea scallops, I was afraid to order chicken and fries and be embarrassed.
"See anything you like," Isabelle asked, placing her menu down and calling a waiter over with her hands.
"Everything seems so excessive," I admitted, "Is there anything more simple I could order, maybe a burger?"
Lily flipped my menu to the sandwich page and I found something more desirable to eat. The waiter came and took our orders along with the menus, and we discussed our schedules for work.
After this, the girls had to get ready for the club to open, while I had to sit back and examine them. They told me that I wasn't ready to begin performing in front of clients and I wasn't complaining otherwise.
No part of me was comfortable dancing in front of men in little to nothing covering my body. I'm insecure. I've always been, but at least I don't have to dive right into this. I'm tip-toeing.
I felt myself drifting away from the conversation and looked around the room. Men and women dressed in lavish clothing and drinking expensive wine chatting away with each other.
It was only a few moments later when heads began turning towards the main doors and the whispers grew more silent.
I followed their eyes to a tall, broad figure entering the room. He was too far away for me to look at properly, but I could feel the sense of importance just by glancing at him. The way he walked in made everyone notice him which made me realize who he was.
"Is that him," I asked, "That's the boss?"
"Yup," Isabelle confirmed, taking a sip of her wine. "Elijah Giordano. He's more handsome up front, but you probably won't see him often. He's a very busy man."
"Does he...spend time in the club?"
"Yeah, but only in the V.I.P. section during his...mafia meetings." She whispered the last part.
He walked away but the chatter about him didn't end and I found myself drowned in the noise of Elijah Giordano.
"I need to use the restroom," I said suddenly, "Which way is it?"
Isabelle pointed to the upper right of the room. "Through that hall over there."
I made my way over to it and found it empty. I turned the sink on and splashed my face with a bit of water.
Why does everything still feel like a dream? Not a bad one, but a strange out of body experience.
I wish I had the chance to collect some things from my apartment, like my picture of my first dog, Tatertot, or my favorite necklace with the tiny diamond it had. It'd cost more than I should've paid for it, but I wanted to have something nice, something expensive for once.
Maybe once I start getting paid, I can just buy another one and not worry about what my bank account would look like afterward.
I took a quick glance in the mirror and fixed my hair. My face looked pale but luckily didn't have any makeup on it for me to fix. I was never one to wear it, only at the El Royale since Richard wanted us all to look more attractive. Lily and Isabelle told me I'd need to wear some, too, when I'm performing.
Maybe this won't be too bad. I have a place to live, rent free, a high paying job, and new friends. Maybe leaving my home won't hurt as much in a few months, but that doesn't mean I'll forget about it.
I took a deep breath and opened the door, rushing out, only to bump into something I thought at first was a wall.
Backing up, I scrunched my nose and rubbed my forehead. My eyes were on the floor, or more specifically, on a pair of large black shoes and I realized what I ran into was not a wall, but a person.
"I'm sorry," I said, looking up, "I didn't mean to…"
My thoughts suddenly vanished as I took in the presence in front of me. It was him. Elijah Giordano.
Which way was the exit, again?