Private Dancer

Private Dancer

Reece Corbett and Faith Ashford life experiences couldn't be any more different than night and day. Reece Corbett grew up on the mean streets of New York City; abused, used, and in trouble with the law. A mysterious man named Frank stepped in, pulled Reece from despair and saved her life. The obstinate, angry street thug eventually earned respect and makes a name for herself, not to mention a "reputation" despite the demons that still haunt her. When Frank dies suddenly, he leaves her his business, a Gentleman's Club called "The Lounge," which may be the only thing she takes pride in. That, and protecting her "girls," especially one freaky little dancer with a heart of gold named Cori the unspoken friend, ally and confidante of one Reece Corbett. Faith Ashford grew up wealthy with all the creature comforts that wealth provides. Country Clubs, a house in the Hampton's, and debutante balls with white gloves, taffeta and gardenias. There was one difference though, Faith wasn't like the other spoiled rich girls, she had no desire to follow those rather shallow footsteps, instead, she wished to follow her own dreams wherever they may lead her and those dreams lead the aspiring actress into a tenement in New York's Alphabet City, working the night shift in a rather seedy Lower East Side bar whose denizens, a sea of oddities, freaks, and frat boys that call themselves customers. Then one night an exotic dancer with electric blue hair wonders into Faith's bar. Cori of the myriad piercings and tattoos has no idea, but she would become the blonde's ultimate salvation in her moment of desperation, just as Frank was for Reece. Faith needed a break, she needed a change, and bartending at The Lounge would at least afford her something new, more new than she could possibly imagine in fact, a tall drink of water by the name of Reece Corbett who in turn had been looking for "this woman" all her life.

PART 1

REECE EMERGED FROM THE LARGE SHOWER and securely wrapped herself in the fluffy robe. Turning to grab another towel for her hair, she caught a sight of herself in the mirror over the sink. The harsh look reflected back was doubled by the insistent glare from the illuminated lighting. Once vibrant blue her eyes were now tired and dulled. Long, wet, black hair plastered erratically against her slumped shoulders and weary face. She sighed out loud, unhappy with her reflection. Trying on a few of her best smiles and striking her most confident poses, she frowned at the woman in the mirror, unconvinced. Approaching footfalls broke her out of the daze. She plopped heavily onto the chaise lounge. Disgusted with herself, she continued to dry her hair.

There was a slight tapping followed by a quiet, "Hey, you almost done?"

Reece bent her head between her knees to dry the underside of her thick hair, trying hard to recall the woman's name.
Well at least I remember she's blonde,
she chuckled dryly. "There's a full bath downstairs if you want." She was startled by the feel of hands on her shoulders.

"Mmm, I'd much rather share this one with you, baby."

The tall woman stood quickly, nearly throwing the blonde into the toilet. "I gotta get going. I have a busy day today. You have about a half hour 'til I leave. If you want a ride, hurry up."

With that, the dark haired woman strode out of the room leaving the smaller woman to wonder what on earth she did wrong. What she didn't know was that Reece Corbett hated the morning after. Hated herself, hated her needs, hated small talk, and hated the women who thought so little of themselves to sleep with a stranger. But only the next morning.

It had taken years for the striking woman to realize the affect she had on people. And she used it to her advantage.

Faith Ashford turned and fluffed her pillow violently for the fifth time this morning. It had been three months and still, her internal clock refused to reset. When she took the job at the bar, it was temporary. “Just until I can land a juicy role" were her exact words. Three months on the overnight shift, and she was completely miserable. Not only did she hate her job, but now it effectively sabotaged any chance she had at that juicy role. Looking like death warmed over from lack of sleep is definitely not the way... "Aarghh!" The blonde threw herself on her side and squeezed her tired green eyes shut, willing sleep to take her.

She allowed images of her family's beach house in the Hamptons to float behind her eyelids. She could almost smell the sea, laying on the deck and watching the waves roll in. It was so peaceful... So quiet... Slowly she drifted off with the sounds of ocean and seagulls.

Waiting for the turning signal, the tall brunette's hair was whipped around her face by the crisp October wind.
It's almost time to put this baby in storage,
she thought sadly, revving the Harley between her legs. She turned onto
Greenwich Street
on her way to the gym. If there's one thing in life Reece would admit to loving, it was her Fat Boy. It was the first thing she looked forward to when she woke up. She would dote on that machine as if it were her child. Come September, she was on her way down south, riding with the warm wind and nothing and nobody to stop her. She was already taking chances, as it was. NYC is not the best place for a motorcycle, regardless of the weather. And now with the club, she was forced to lock it away as the seasons changed. She was already looking forward to the warm weather.

Circling the block for the zillionth time, Reece wasn't the least bit surprised that there wasn't a sliver of space to park her baby. Without a second thought, she pulled it to a stop on the sidewalk. After chaining it to her satisfaction, she bounced up the steps to begin her second favorite part of her day.

Cori noticed the familiar rumble outside of the gym. While not a fanatic about working out she did get the urge to shape up every so often. Especially when the hottest bods in the Village were the scenery. Reece let her use her guest passes as often as needed, after all she did have a vested interest in Cori's body…however many tattoos and rings adorned it. Feeling the tall shadow approaching, the pink haired girl fibbed out loud..."47...48...49...50!" Grunting at the end for effect.

"Hey, Boss, fancy meeting you here," she panted.

Reece continued stretching and smirked. "50 leg curls? I'm impressed. And not even a drop of sweat. I wanna be just like you when I grow up."

"Fuck you asshole." Cori stuck her twice-pierced tongue out.

"Eat me, freak." Reece wiggled her once pierced tongue at her employee and got comfortable on the arm blaster.

Cori was shocked and amused. "Sooo, Butthead, how long have you had that? Don't tell me you had it when you chastised me for getting one. That would make you a hypocrite."

"Settle down, Beavis, I had this when you were plugging your first period," she strained out between lifts.

"Ew. That was just lovely. Hypocrite"

"Thanks, freak. I have to think of the clients. I run an..."

"...upscale establishment for the more respectable clientele. Yeah, yeah..." Cori butted in.

"But it's true, they don't like surprises. Spot me over here, will ya!"

"Um... Boss lady, I think they know what they're getting when they look at me." She twirled around for Reece's benefit.

"Freak."

"Dyke"

"Oh, yeah... that's mature. And now who's a hypocrite?"

"Fine. Just let's go, Body by Jake. I'm not here to spot your tight ass all morning."

"You want me." Reece chuckled.

"I had you and moved on," Cori countered.

"I ruined you for everyone else."

"Only for a week or two. But I got over it you, cocky fuck." She snorted.

Reece only shook her head. She couldn't for the life of her remember why she bedded the freak in the first place.
Well she did have blonde hair,
she thought.
I'm a sucker for blonde hair and green eyes. Too bad it had been fake, on both accounts. She'd be quite the handful.

It was 5 pm when Faith crawled out of bed to a blast of freezing air. Living in a building such as this, she had long ago taken to sleeping with her sneakers on, and piles of blankets. Not only to avoid the cold, but to never have the experience of an unwelcome visitor touch any part of exposed skin again. She was dreading summer. It was a shock to the spoiled rich girl when she realized she was completely on her own. But the feisty blonde had perseverance, what with getting used to the odd looking pierced people, the pathetic looking junkies, and beggars. She learned the subway, and took self-defense classes at the Y after being followed one night. Unfortunately, this is where she lived, the best she could do on her salary and tips. The locals called it Alphabet City. No matter to her. Before she moved here, she had never even known that anything below 34th street existed, besides Wall Street, much less step foot in a neighborhood like this. After all, this was only temporary.

With a sigh, Faith started to strip off the layers. Turning on the illegal hot plates, she began the ritual of heating the pots of water, at the same time she filled the bath halfway with tepid tap water. It was bad enough to have a bathtub in the kitchen, she could at least have hot water. Instead, the girl who was used to opulent designer bathrooms had learned to take lukewarm baths in the middle of the kitchen. Showers were few and far between. In buildings as old as this, the shower stall was out in the hall and the rest of the 5th floor shared it. Only when she was absolutely sure that there was no one else around, would she take a quick one, armed with a crow bar just in case.

While quickly rinsing the last of the shampoo from her honey blonde hair over the sink, she was already anticipating her wake up coffee and pastry. The neighborhood might be bad, but within blocks were some of the best bakeries and restaurants she could ask for; cheap and delicious. Her favorite, Veniero's being only four blocks out of her way.

Grateful that she had gotten used to the chill, Faith locked all four locks behind her and gingerly made her way down the narrow stairs, stepping over the occasional junkie and drunk huddled here for warmth.

By the time Reece had set her baby in the garage and had the usual repetitive small talk with Pepe, the attendant, the money machine known as The Lounge was filling up. She sincerely doubted that his name was Pepe. If that were true, the fact that the last two were also named Pepe would be too weird. She nodded towards the bouncer, Sam, one time officer in the Army, now dishonorably discharged. (They asked, she told.) "Nice crowd, boss," Sam mentioned by way of hello.

Reece smiled and took the stairs two at a time. The sound of tacky dance music with way too much bass assaulted her ears. Hurrying through her club, nodding politely as she went, she fished out the keys to her sanctuary, solitude only reached when the door to her office was closed. Soundproof. It came with the club and she couldn't have been more thankful.

The tall brunette loaded the coffee machine and hovered over her big walnut desk. She wanted to sigh, but it would only send the already threatening mountain of paperwork to the floor. "I need an accountant," she stated to no one. “A sexy accountant." She grinned at the thought before bringing her attention back to her desk. It had only been a year since she became owner of the club and Reece was not at all prepared for the job. While she had a head for business, and a strong will to succeed in life, she had no patience for the paperwork. Frank had thought otherwise. Or he wouldn't have given it to her. He'd had undying faith in Reece. Something she couldn't seem to find in herself.

"Faith," she snorted, making smaller hills of paper. "Yeah, thanks, Uncle Frankie. I owe you one." She wasn't ungrateful about being left the club, just angry at Frankie for dying. She was bitter at the circumstances of her good fortune and not quite confident that she could pull this off on her own. There were people depending on her, and it was a whole new concept. There was never anybody but herself to worry about, or provide for. Now responsibility had a different meaning, and she wasn't sure she could handle it. She'd much rather be out on the open road, or watching the women who depended on her perform. The moment her ass hit the chair, there was a knock at the door.