A Private Dance

Hey, folks! Sorry for taking so long with the next chapter. Life happens and business before pleasure, right? I'll try to get the next chapter out quicker than this one but no promises. Thanks for reading. Love all the great comments you've left me. Thanks for your feedback! Enjoy!

"And do you Miranda take this man, David, to be your lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, forsaking all others, as long as you both shall live?" The reverend in the long white robe and high collar asked the woman in the flowing white lacy gown.

"I do," Miranda answered and smiled at David, dressed in a grey tuxedo with a burgundy bow tie and matching cummerbund.

"Then" the church official continued, "by the power vested in me by the state of Michigan and in the sight of God, I now pronounce you husband and wife. David you may kiss your bride!"

David took Miranda in his arms and planted a passionate kiss on her lips as the reverend spoke once again, "Ladies and Gentlemen, I'm pleased to introduce you to Mr. and Mrs. David and Miranda Andrews!"

The wedding attendees cheered wildly as David and Miranda turned to face them. David could see his parents smiling back at him from the front row along with his sister and her husband, each with a twin on their lap. His friends from Maxxy's were there and they stood to applaud the newly married couple. David and Miranda walked quickly down the aisle then out into the Michigan spring sun. As they stepped outside, the church bells began to ring loudly, causing David to cover his ears as the chimes threatened to deafen him.

Those chimes are so loud!

He thought...

David opened his eyes and realized the chimes were the sound of his cell phone ringing on the nightstand next to his bed. He had laid on the bed for a quick minute to collect his thoughts and form a plan when he dozed off. The clock on his phone said 3:24pm. David had been asleep for three hours and he was no better off now than before he returned home from the debacle that occurred that morning. He was in big trouble on a couple different fronts, and one was possibly coming due right now.

David's cell phone continued to ring. He had hoped that it was Miranda, that she had used her super-computer to get his number and call him so that he could explain himself. However, the screen flashed a familiar number and he groaned.

Maxxy's,

he thought. Probably Max Devlin himself calling to give him the heave-ho for leaving early last night. David slid his finger across the Answer button and connected the call.

"Hello," David said into the sleek smartphone.

"David," a female voice responded in a hushed tone, "it's Leslie."

"Leslie!" David shouted, "what's going on there?! I thought you would have called me by now. I'm supposed to be to work in a couple hours. Is Max still pissed?"

"David, why would Louie The Nine be here asking Max questions about you?" Leslie asked.

"Louie The Nine was there today?" David answered with his own question.

"Yeah," Leslie answered, "he and two of his goons waltzed in here after I gave Max a... after I smoothed things over for you temporarily with Max. David, are you in trouble with Louie The Nine?" Leslie said, changing her story mid-sentence. She didn't want David to know that she had done a half-striptease then given Max a blowjob to take his mind off David for a while.

"Damn, Leslie," David replied, "more than you want to know. I gotta get out of here if Louie is looking for me. But I can't go to Maxxy's either. What should I do?"

"Don't come here!" Leslie told him. "I think one of his henchmen is still in the parking lot." Leslie stopped talking to think for a second. She took a deep breath then asked David, "Do you remember where I live?"

"Yeah, David responded. "Over on Washington Circle, right?" David knew exactly where Leslie lived. He had been there twice when he and Leslie had a secret affair three years ago.

"OK," Leslie said. "Go there. There's a spare key taped to the back of the black planter on the front porch. Park your bike in the garage so no one sees it. I'll tell Max you called in sick or something then I'll be there as soon as I can get away then we'll figure this out."

"Thanks again, Leslie!" David replied to her generosity. "Have I mentioned that you're a life-saver?! See you soon!"

Leslie hung up the phone and sat back in her office chair.

I know, David,

she thought as she formulated a plan to leave early.

I AM going to save your life, even if it means losing everything I have.

Leslie stood from her desk and walked into her boss' office. "Mr. Devlin?" she said as she swung the door open. Max was still in his chair, his back to the office door, seemingly staring out the window. Leslie repeated her address with no reply from the gruff club owner. Puzzled, Leslie walked to the far side of the office and stepped between her boss and the window.

Max Devlin died of a massive heart attack shortly after Louie The Nine left his office at approximately 1pm, at least that's what the coroner's report stated. Leslie called 911 when she found her employer motionless in his high-backed leather chair, but it was obvious to her and the first-responders that there was no reviving Max Devlin. He was pronounced dead at the scene and taken to Evergreen Funeral Home in the back of a hearse zipped up in a large black bag. Max had no family; no heirs to pass the club to, so for the time being, Leslie made the decision to close the club for the rest of the weekend. She locked the doors and put signs on the windows explaining the abrupt closure, then drove back across town to her house where David would be waiting for her. Together, they would figure a way out of his predicament with Louie The Nine. She would do what she had to do for David's sake and safety, even if it meant her very life.

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Miranda woke from her nap around the same time as David, albeit in separate places. Her eyes were red and still stung a bit for crying all morning and she had a dull ache in the back of her head. Miranda first went to the bathroom to get some ibuprofen for her headache, then to the kitchen for a bottle of water. After taking the pain reliever, she went to the parlor to see if Jessie was ready for lunch.

"Jess?" Miranda called out. "You in here?" Miranda got no response. "Alexa, when was the last time the front door opened?"

"The front door opened at 2:18pm today then closed at 2:19pm today."

The computer-generated voice told Miranda what she wanted to know.

Guess she got a better offer,

Miranda thought as she flopped down on the leather couch. Miranda heard a knock at the front door and puzzled at it. No one knocked on her door because no one could get through the front gate without proper access.

Maybe Jess just went outside for a bit,

she convinced herself and walked through the hall to the entryway.

"Did you lock yourself o..." Miranda started but stopped mid-sentence when she realized it wasn't Jessie at the front door. Two men stood on her front porch. Two very large men, one in a plain brown suit and the other in a black suit with white pinstripes and a red flower in the buttonhole of his jacket.

"Oh!" Miranda cried as she stepped back from the open door, "I thought you were someone else. Can I help you?"

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Mason," the black-suited man answered. "I believe you can. My name is Louis LaChance, and I'm actually your neighbor from a few houses down. May we come in?"

"H-How did you get past my gate without an access code?" Miranda asked, suddenly frightened of these men.

"That's not important, Mrs. Mason," Louie responded, his tone becoming more forceful. "What is important is that you answer some questions for us." Louie took a step forward and blocked the doorway. "If you answer these questions truthfully, then we'll leave quietly, and you can go back to enjoying your afternoon."

Miranda flicked her eyes from Louie to the other man then back to Louie as she tried to decide what to do next. She turned to run into the house, but felt a heavy hand grasp her arm. Miranda screamed into the house "ANTHONY!!"

"Your security guard left an hour ago with a young blonde woman." Louie explained to Miranda as he held her arm.

"ALEXA, CALL NINE..." was all Miranda could get out before another hand clamped over her mouth. Her eyes went wide as the brown-suited man came toward her and bound her hands and feet with white plastic zip ties, then took a red bandana from his jacket pocket and gagged her mouth.

"I was hoping to do this with as little ugliness as possible, Mrs. Mason," Louie said as Miranda stared at him with wide eyes, "but now you've left me no choice but to take you somewhere that we can talk without being disturbed by your friends returning or your electronic assistant notifying the authorities."

Louie nodded, and the brown-suited man picked Miranda up and slung her over his shoulder. Tears ran down Miranda's face as she was carried to a grey town car and placed in the back seat. A blindfold was placed over Miranda's eyes and her world went black as the car began to pull away and creep down the long driveway.

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Jessie and Anthony sat in her car that was parked across the street from David's apartment building. They were contemplating their next move against the filthy stripper that had hurt their friend and employer. Jessie's opinion differed from Anthony's about their end game.

"No," Jessie said, a little exasperated, "I'm telling you, we should just go up there and kick the shit out of him. Assault and battery may be a felony, but what you want to do is a federal offense, Anthony."

"Only if we get caught." Anthony replied. "We go up there, knock him out cold, then throw him in the backseat and take him out to the back forty of the property. There's an old fishing shack back there near the river that we could stash him in until we figure out exactly what we want to do with him."

"As long as I get one shot at his balls with my size 7 heels," Jessie countered as she lifted her foot off the floorboard of the car and looked at her pink shoes. "But I still say we shouldn't kidnap him."

"Let's just go up there and see how it plays out." Anthony compromised slightly. He wanted David to pay for hurting Miranda, for weaseling his way on to the estate and taking advantage of his friend Allen's wife, who he himself had charged Anthony with protecting. Revenge wasn't part of his job, Anthony conceded, but he decided it would be another perk of the job. Anthony unbuckled his seat belt and was about to get out of the car when Jessie grabbed his arm and pulled him back down to the driver's seat.

"Look!" Jessie cried and pointed at the other side of the street. David had pulled out of the driveway on his motorcycle and was speeding away from them. "We have to follow him, Anthony! Don't lose him!" Jessie shouted as Anthony jammed the car into drive and pursued the red and black Honda down Tarry Lane.

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David wasted no time in packing a few necessities and a change of clothes in his backpack then running down the stairs to his bike. He had to get out of his apartment before Louie got there. David quickly slipped his helmet over his head then fired the motorcycle up and raced through the parking lot to the street out front. He had to get to Leslie's place as soon as possible and lay low until he could smooth things over with Louie and Max.

What he really wished he could be doing is heading to Miranda's.

If I could just talk to her for five minutes, I could get this straightened out with her,

David thought as he motored down Tarry Lane then took a left on to Washington Avenue. In four more miles, it would turn into Washington Circle where Leslie's split-level ranch stood. Before he got to the roundabout that marked the change from Avenue to Circle on Washington, David saw a tan sedan following behind him. When he realized it was the same car he saw sitting in front of his apartment building, panic set in. David tried to keep his composure as best he could as he gradually increased his speed through the suburban neighborhood.

When David came to the corner of Washington Circle and Grandview Road where Leslie's house sat, he decided to go past it then hammer the gas. He reasoned that he may get arrested for reckless driving through a residential zone, but it was better than being caught by whoever was in that car that was tailing him. As he passed Leslie's house, David twisted the throttle and zoomed down the street, intent on losing the car following him. He raced through the quiet neighborhood, trying to outrun the sandy-colored sedan. David knew that there was a decline on Washington Circle just before the road ended into Seaway Drive. Anyone who lived in Gravel City long enough knew the roads, but not everyone knew that there was a hidden alley that ran parallel to Washington Circle and the access was just before Seaway Drive created the T.

David said a quick prayer as he and his motorcycle sped down the hill. As he lost sight of the car that was following him, David hit the brakes and leaned hard left to make the entrance to the alley. His back tire chirped its disagreement as it skittered across the pavement then, just as David thought he might have to lay the bike down, the Honda popped back to the upright position and sailed through the entrance to the alley. Even if the occupant of the car behind him had seen him enter, there was no way to follow except on foot as the lane was too narrow for the wide automobile. David killed the engine and coasted to a stop behind one of the homes that faced Washington Circle. He watched as the sedan came to a stop at the end of the road, sat there for a few seconds, then turned right on to Seaway. He had lost them for now.

David fired the bike back up and crept back down the alley to the road entrance. He looked intently down to the end of the road to see if the car had doubled back, and when he was certain that it hadn't, made his way to the end of the street and into Leslie's driveway. David opened the garage door then wheeled his bike in to hide it from his pursuers. He then quickly made his way to the front porch to go in to the house. Leslie had told him where the spare key was hidden, but she could have left that part out. After all, this wasn't the first time David had been here and used the hidden key.

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November 2014

Tuesday nights at Maxxy's were Two-Dollar Draft Nights. Two bucks would get patrons an ice cold 20-ounce beer while they ogled the topless ladies that danced on the main stage. Tuesday nights were the busiest of the weekdays and David was glad to be behind the bar on those nights. Not only did the time fly by at work, but the best-looking dancers worked on Tuesdays. When the drinks were that cheap, the tips that David and the waitresses shared were better and, by the end of the night, calls of "Keep the change!" out of fives and tens from the inebriated customers was heard more often than not.

But David really liked working Tuesdays because of the dancers. Max had the "A-Team" working Tuesdays to keep the two-dollar beers flowing. David loved to watch the girls dance and do pole tricks while he worked the bar. He was fascinated with the strength and agility some of these women had while twirling around the chrome-plated pole and, of course, it didn't hurt that the dancers were nearly naked while they did it. David loved the nude female form and Max Devlin had some of the best specimens Gravel City had to offer working on Two-Dollar Draft Night.

Leslie Hodges was still acclimating to her new position as Max Devlin's personal assistant, which meant lots of late nights that first month off the stage and in the office. She was a good dancer, and if she had to, she would go back to making ends meet twirling on the pole, but she had had enough of pawing hands and crumpled dollar bills in her G-string. Leslie wanted to make this new job work, so she stayed late the first few weeks to make sure everything was done correctly.

This particular Tuesday, Leslie was struggling with the payroll. It had to be submitted by midnight tonight or the paychecks would be a day late. As usual, a couple of the dancers had filled out their timesheets incorrectly and it was Leslie's job to track them down and get the correct numbers. After doing her time on the stage for three years, Leslie dreaded going back out to the club floor, but one of the dancers she needed to speak with was working tonight, so she took a deep breath then headed through the hallway and entrance and out to the part of the club that housed the main stage.

Destiny, the performer Leslie needed to speak with, was in the middle of her act, so Leslie tried to hang in the shadows as much as possible. When Max had promoted her to the back office, she left the stripping part of her life abruptly and didn't want to look back. Leslie saw a few familiar faces in the crowd. For the most part, the men behaved themselves and didn't get too handsy. As Leslie scanned the room waiting for Destiny to finish, she saw him. Dennis. Every one of the women dancers dreaded the nights that Dennis darkened Maxxy's doorstep.

Dennis (no one knew his last name) was an exotic dancer's nightmare. Horribly overweight, his body stench announced his arrival thirty seconds before he walked through the door. Dennis' receding hairline was most likely caused by his follicles voluntarily falling out from uncleanliness and his clothing, always the same, blue and gray striped sweatshirt and ratty blue jeans, rivaled his hair's filth. Dennis came in to Maxxy's at least once a week to harass the girls and see how much he could get away with before one of them called security over. After an admonishment from the guards, Dennis would usually settle down. Dennis didn't discriminate with his love of the women at Maxxy's, but he had one that held his infatuation. That woman was Leslie.

"Blaze!" Dennis cried when he saw Leslie shrinking back in to a darkened corner. Calling her by her stage name, Leslie pretended she didn't hear Dennis calling her. Dennis called the stage name out once more, then stood from his table and walked to Leslie's dark area of the bar. "Blaze, where you been?" Dennis asked as his gelatinous frame trapped Leslie on the wall. "I've missed you!"

"Dennis," Leslie answered, "I don't work on the floor anymore. I'm in the office now." She tried to step back as far as she could to remove her inhalations from Dennis' wretched stink.

"Come have a drink with me, Blaze!" an obviously inebriated Dennis said to Leslie as he grabbed for her hand.

"No, thank you, Dennis," Leslie responded as she tried to keep her hand away from Dennis' clutches. "I'm still working, and I have something I need to discuss with Destiny when she's done with her dance."

"Just one drink, beautiful," Dennis countered. "I sure have missed you!" Dennis shot his chubby hand out and seized Leslie's arm. When he began pulling her toward the table, Leslie raised her voice.

"Dennis! I said I can't!" Leslie shouted as she tried to free herself from Dennis' grip. She scanned the bar for a security guard but saw none. Dennis continued to drag her to his table as Leslie pleaded with him. "Dennis! You're hurting my arm!"

Leslie saw a flash go past her then felt Dennis' forward motion stop. David had seen what was happening and jumped over the bar to stop Dennis from dragging Leslie across the club floor any further.

"Dennis," David said as he put his hand on Dennis' hand that was clutching Leslie's arm, "You gotta let her go, man. You can't drag girls back to your table like that." David was polite but firm. Dennis let go of Leslie's arm and turned to confront David. Dennis outweighed David by at least one hundred pounds and stood a good three inches taller than the young bartender.