Steamy Stress Relief with His Niece

"What's your name, baby?" she asked me.

I lifted my head to acknowledge the stripper—correction, adult dancer—giving me a private dance. I don't know why I thought slinking into a strip club would be beneficial to my mental state in advance of tomorrow.

The fact I was even here felt so unlike me. I hadn't been to a strip club in ages. And now that I was older, with two grown children, a place like this felt like a foreign land, one whose language I no longer spoke.

"Name's William," I said to the dancer.

"Last name?"

"Adelson," I replied.

"William Adelson," she said, her tongue laced with lust. "Royal-sounding. Fit for a king. Can I be your princess, William?"

I appreciated her effort, her wordplay, but I was far from titillated. Regardless, I pulled out a crisp fifty, bent the bill the long way, and tried handing it to her.

"Don't be shy, William. Put the money where you like."

"I'd just like to hand it to you, if that's okay."

"Whatever you want, my king," she said, smiling at me.

When her lap dance concluded, I stood up, kindly thanked my

princess

for her time. I only hoped that after her shift, she'd have a safe commute on the subway, get some good sleep when she met her bed.

It was best I got some sleep of my own. I'd need my wits about me for my meeting tomorrow, the whole reason I was even in New York. If I nailed my pitch with Magnus Media and reeled them in as a client, I'd receive a nice bonus check. I was already thinking of how I'd spend the moolah: tickets to watch a basketball game with my sons (lower bowl seats preferably, not the cheap nosebleeds!)

I re-entered the main area of the strip club, where my ears were inundated with hip hop music I was too old to relate to. There were dancers working the central stage, sectioned-off booths along the perimeter, with everything bathed in purple and magenta lighting.

My attention was drawn to one of the booths in the distance, with its own dedicated pole dancer. She was dressed to kill, wearing a red cocktail dress that was anything but subtle.

There was an elemental allure to this woman, with her blonde hair, swaying like flames of a fire, and her sensual movements, fluid like water. She was stealing the air from my lungs, getting me to wonder who on earth this sexpot was. I needed a closer look.

I walked toward her booth, trying to be Manhattan's least creepiest middle-aged tourist. When I was feet away, she turned around abruptly, and her eyes landed on mine.

"Oh my god, no way!" she shouted. "Hi Uncle Will!"

"Belly Bear?!"

She jumped off the pole and into my arms, hugging me with vigor. I expected Belle to be mortified, seeing me in this

very

adult establishment. But my professional model of a niece was teeming with excitement, sporting the widest smile.

"Wha-what are you doing here?" I asked.

"Just having a night out with my agent," she said, pointing to the lone person seated in their booth.

He courteously stood up to shake my hand. "Pleasure, sir. I'm Solomon."

"William," I replied. "I'm Belle's... um..."

"Sol, this is my awesome uncle!" she said, arms wrapped around me from the side.

I immediately felt embarrassed, with my familial title being disclosed to this stranger in

this

environment. But it appeared Belle felt differently. She seemed so proud to introduce me as her kin.

"Join us, Uncle Will!" she said to me. "We just got here."

"I shouldn't."

"Why not?" she asked.

Why not?

It should've been obvious, no? Spending time at a strip club with my niece wasn't normal, let alone acceptable.

"I've got to wake up early," I argued.

"Oh come on!" Belle said. "When do I ever get to spend time with you anymore? Just spend a half hour with me. Pretty please!"

"Belle, really," I said, "I shouldn't be here with my niece."

"Uncle Will, we just bumped into each other in New York-

freaking

-City! I'm not taking no for an answer." She pulled my wrist to sit me down, plopped her bum on my lap, chained her arm around my neck, anything to keep me anchored.

Based on her demeanor, I suspected my niece's blood-alcohol levels would make a breathalyzer explode from mere proximity to the mouthpiece.

Belle pointed at her agent. "Sol, let's get a real dancer in here! Pass me and my uncle some singles!"

(1)

Innocent Kiss

What world was I living in?

For way more than half an hour, I watched adult dancers perform for me, my niece, and her agent. Belle was so lively, so welcoming, treating me more like one of her friends than the uncle she'd known all her life. Clearly, she was unashamed to be here alongside her family.

I found myself partaking (albeit reluctantly). Downed a few shots with them, reliving my glory days when I could absorb gin and vodka like a sponge. In turn, my poor bladder warned me to ease up.

I left the booth for a bathroom break. At the urinal, I couldn't believe I was partying with my niece in this novel manner. Unsurprisingly, my conscience decided to step onto a soapbox with a whip in hand, ready to punish me for having enjoyed Belle's pole work earlier. I felt like I deserved a lash for every second I admired her luscious legs, her shapely body in that sparkly red dress.

When I returned to the booth, Belle's agent was on his feet, donning his leather jacket.

"Been a fun night, love," he said to her. "I gotta jet. Enjoy my digs."

"Thanks, Sol," she said. "Safe travels, my friend."

"Nice meeting you, Will," Solomon said to me, shaking my hand. "From me to you, thank you for your family's genetics. Your niece is my best model."

For a second, my mind went into protective mode, calculating whether this Solomon guy was a pimp in disguise, taking advantage of my poor niece. I convinced myself modern-day handlers didn't have to carry themselves in mink coats and a cane. Common sense then took hold and I was reminded that Belle was a legitimate model. Of course she'd have a legitimate agent.

After Solomon left, I turned to her. "Belly, it's late. I gotta get going too."

She stood up, her feet flimsy. I held a forearm out and she grabbed it for balance.

"Heyo, steady there!" I said. "You okay? How are you getting home, sweetheart?"

"Why? You worried I'll take the subway alone?"

"To be honest, yes," I replied. "I'd rather we share a taxi. My hotel's near, but I'll ride with you to wherever you're staying. Make sure you get back safely."

"My uncle, so thoughtful!" she said, leaning back into a yawn. "Okie dokes, let's split that taxi then. I'm not too far away."

***

The cab ride was a silent one. Our driver's eyes were the loudest thing, frequently scanning his rear-view mirror to ogle my niece. Belle never noticed. Her own eyes were closed, her head resting on my shoulder.

When the taxi stopped at her destination, I gently tapped her arm. "Belly, we're here."

"Mm?" she groaned herself awake.

"Is this where you live?" I asked.

She rubbed her eyes open. "No, I'm apartment-sitting for Sol tonight and tomorrow. He left for a flight."

I got out to help her exit the car, steered her onto the sidewalk, then signaled our driver to not drive off without me.

"You gonna be able to make it up okay?" I asked her.

"Gonna try my very bestest," she replied, ribbing me with a tired smile.

"You should drink a lot of water. And don't sleep on your back, just in case anything travels up."

"Uncle Will, you really are adorable. I'm betting you've never given this advice to Chris or Danny."

I thought about how I'd treat my sons in this scenario. Realized my niece had a point.

"Just want you to be safe, y'know," I said.

"You're sweet. I'll be fine. Your Belly Bear's a big girl now." She fondly ran her hand along my arm. "Hey, um, why don't you come up for a nightcap?"

"Not the best idea."

"Or a cup of coffee," she added.

"Alcohol or caffeine's the last thing I need right now," I said. "I really do have a meeting, Belle. First thing in the morning."

She took a measured second. And it wasn't lost on me that if she weren't my niece, Belle's invitation to

come up

could've been construed as something more.

"So, whatcha doing tomorrow night?" she asked. "I was thinking we could hang out. Felt like we barely got a chance to catch up."

"Sorry, Belly. I fly out after my meeting. I'll have to catch you at the next Adelson get-together. And hey, uh, maybe it goes without saying, but don't tell your dad you saw me at

that

establishment. I don't need my older brother judging me, especially at our age."

Her fingers cutely ran a zipper across her lips. "Stays between us."

I reached out to hug her goodbye, and she swallowed me in her arms, a comfy fireplace of an embrace on this cold New York night.

Belle then kissed my right cheek, followed by a peck on my lips.

Whoa... did she just kiss me on my...

Confused, I sought her eyes, but Belle had already turned away, the clack of her high heels reverberating in my ears. Had she meant to kiss my other cheek and missed? The alcohol to blame for her balance? I was left to wonder as she disappeared into the lobby of a high-rise.

I remained frozen on the pavement, my mind suddenly engrossed with impure thoughts. Her soft lips... Her sweet fragrance... Her cleavage in that red dress...

"Hey, my man!" my taxi driver shouted, breaking me from a spell. "Let's go! Time's money!"

(2)

Friendly Accommodations

The following morning, it was twenty past the hour. I'd been patiently waiting alone in a Magnus Media conference room, a printed proposal and venti coffee beside me.

With dead time to myself, I began picking apart the predicament I'd found myself in, the fact that none of my colleagues had joined me on this trip. Then I realized that my firm only ever assigned solo pitches for low-value clients. That pattern, the more I thought about it, was a sad reflection that revealed how little my firm valued me...

I heard a glass door swing open.

"William!" a male voice said. "Thanks for waiting."

"Mr. Magnus, nice to meet you." I stood to greet the head honcho himself, wondering where the rest of his associates were.

"Please, call me Bob." He shook my hand, then settled into a chair across the long table, taking his time to scan me. "Excuse my French, but shit, you look like you had a rough night. Or maybe a fun one?"

"I, uh, bumped into family yesterday," I said. "Got back to my hotel later than I expected. But I'm all good this morning. Shall we talk business, Bob?"

Bob raised a palm to halt me. "Now look, I know you've flown here to New York, with charts and graphs, this and that, hoping you'll convince me to hire your firm. But I gotta be honest with you, William... Now's not a great time for me."

"Something wrong?" I asked, looking beyond the glass doors of the conference room for a tidy answer.

He plopped his feet atop the conference table, leaned back in his chair. "You got kids, William?"

"Two," I replied.

"Daughters?" he asked.

"Sons. Both adults."

He returned his feet to the floor. "Ah... I see..."

Bob's reaction was hard to parse. Was I being judged for not having a daughter? Sure felt like it. Felt like he was deeming me as

less than

for something outside my control.

"I do have a niece though," I blurted out.

"They say how a man treats his daughter says a lot about him. About how he treats others in life. And in business."

I simply nodded, unsure what else I could really say here.

Bob continued, "I like to think my daughters keep me honest. When I disappoint them, I feel like a piece of shit. You can understand that, right?"

"Absolutely, Bob. Of course."

"Having said that, I've gotta postpone this meeting. My youngest is a music major. Hell of a piano player. She's got this big recital at her college. I need to fly out now if I wanna make it."

"Oh, that's... great. Best of luck to her."

"I know you're wondering where this leaves things, business-wise. So let's do this, William: Stay another night in Manhattan. And for your troubles, I'm gonna set you up with tickets to tonight's game, courtside seats at the Garden. You like basketball?"

I exhaled calmly and kept my poise. "Yeah, basketball's great. Practically raised my sons on the sport. My youngest, Danny, actually plays in college and—"

"Enjoy!" Bob said, cutting me off as he rose to his feet, uninterested in small talk. "We'll meet tomorrow."

***

As I left the Midtown offices of Magnus Media, I could feel a kernel of a migraine pinching my forehead. Annoyingly, I'd have to now extend my business trip, figure out if my hotel could still accommodate me, switch my outgoing flight as well. The only benefit was that maybe I could get some decent sleep tonight, be better prepared for tomorrow.

My phone started buzzing. Saw my niece's nickname Belly Bear on the screen.

"Belle?" I answered.

"Hi Uncle Will."

"Are you okay, sweetheart?"

"Right as rain," she said. "I'm having a hearty breakfast right now. Recovery meal, you could say."

I smiled. "You don't sound hoarse at all. Good to hear."

"Uncle Will, um, I just wanted to apologize if I made you feel uncomfortable yesterday, in any way. I maybe had a little too much to drink..."

"You're alright, Belly," I said. Images of red lips and a chrome pole spilled into consciousness.

"Shame you've gotta leave so soon," she said. "Don't know when I'll see you next, but hopefully soon."

"Breaking news, actually, I'm staying another night in the city. My meeting got postponed to tomorrow."

"Oh really?" she said excitedly. "Will you still be staying at your hotel?"

"Good question. Gotta iron that out right now."

"Stay with me instead! I'll still be at my agent's apartment while he's out of town. You'll have your own room. It'll be much cozier than a hotel. And the views from the top floor, facing Central Park? To die for!"

"Slow down there." I chuckled. "You adding real estate agent to your resume too?"

"Sorry!" she said. "I'm just excited to spend time with you."

"It'd be okay with your agent that I'd be staying over?"

"Pshh, my modeling work's paid for a decent chunk of his unit. It's my home too, in spirit." She giggled. "But yes, don't worry, Sol won't mind. Only thing is I'm in meetings all day, so I won't be home until the evening. But you're welcome to come over now and settle in. I'll leave you a key with the doorman."

"Thank you, dear! One less thing for me to worry about."

"Yay! This is gonna be so fun, Uncle Will. What should we do tonight? Broadway show? Stand-up comedy? You choose."

"In that case, I've got some very exclusive tickets," I said. "I hope you like basketball."

(3)

Courtside Celebrity

I checked out of my hotel and took a taxi to an Upper West Side address, the same building I'd escorted my niece to last night.

When my cab dropped me off, my attention was drawn to a nearby flower stand. I walked over, eyes locked on a vibrant yellow bouquet, my wallet already in hand to pay the florist. A memory shot to mind, of when a mini Belle had handed me a sunflower, telling me it was her "most favoritest" flower in the whole world.

With a bouquet in one hand, a retrieved key in the other, I made my way to the top floor of her agent's apartment. Inside the unit, I quickly realized there was only one bedroom...

Hmm, I could've sworn Belle said that I'd have my own room?

How was this arrangement going to work?

Knowing Belle, she'd probably sacrifice her own comfort for my benefit. I reminded myself to sort it out with her later.

***

Early evening rolled around when Belle finally arrived at the apartment.

She greeted me warmly, and then even more so, after noticing a sunflower bouquet arranged in water, sitting pretty on the counter. Short on the chatter, she quickly freshened up so we could leave for the basketball game.

We took the subway to the arena, where we joined the hordes of fans in line to enter.

After clearing the gates, Belle hooked her arm into mine as we navigated the concourse. Her touch reminded me of when I'd taken her to her first flea market, where she'd glued her tiny hand to mine the entire time. There, I bought her an artisan bracelet chained with plastic sunflower pieces, an item she proudly flaunted on her wrist that day.

We found our section and settled into our courtside seats, so close to the players warming up that we could hear their conversations. Heads occasionally turned our way, and I obviously knew what others were thinking:

Who was this fine model and why was she with this geriatric putz? Must be her sugar daddy!

The game started and I occasionally glanced at Belle. She had wide eyes, soaking in the whole experience. I myself felt a certain pride sitting next to a fashionable young person. She'd paired a loose tank with a suggestive tube top, her cleavage peeking for any and all to see.

The players themselves would often look her way, and I didn't blame them. One of them even had a turnover, which I was sure was a result of Belle bending down to grab her phone from her purse, teasing more of her bosom.

"Belly, I think you just distracted number 5, Jackson, on the home team. He lost his dribble after looking your way."

"That's ridiculous," she replied, not believing me in the least.

Belle then tilted her phone my way, showing me a new text message from my son, Danny.

Danny: "Yo! Imagine me minding my own business, just watching TV, then seeing you and my dad in the background! How'd you score those tickets, Belle?! More importantly, when are you coming to one of

my

games?"

Another message came in on Belle's phone, this time from my other son.

Chris: "Cuz! Danny just texted me your whereabouts. Courtside celebrity, much? Thanks for the invite lol! I thought we were besties after Thailand!"

"Awww," Belle said, meeting my eyes. "Isn't that cute? I miss my cousins."

"Hey, what the heck, why didn't they text

me

?" I said in jest. "I must not be cool enough."

"Don't sell yourself short, Uncle Will." She playfully winked at me.

***

When the buzzer for halftime sounded, a man approached us. He was dressed in a blue polo, the home team's orange logo embroidered below his collar.

"How are you folks doing tonight?" he asked, attention mostly on Belle. Then he turned to me. "Is this beautiful lady your daughter, sir?"

I chuckled. "Nope."

"I see," he said. "Well, you two make a lovely couple."

"We're not a couple either," I replied, suspicious of what this guy's agenda was.

"So check this out," he said to Belle, flashing the credentials on his lanyard to her. "I work for the team. And number 5, J.T. Jackson, he thinks you'd be a cool person to hang out with after the game. Interested? I could have a car pick you up, drop you home after."

I amusedly grinned at Belle, unsurprised by her gravitational pull on men.

Belle took a second, then tangled her arm into mine, eyes up to the stranger. "No thanks," she said to him. "I'm with my date here."

A flood of tingles filled my body. I couldn't believe my niece just swerved an invite from a very successful, very wealthy athlete. He was a 5x all-star, a dark horse candidate for the Most Valuable Player award. And who was I? I was just a middle-aged consultant who'd never even sniffed a promotion.

The staffer nodded and quietly saw himself out.

"Well, that was interesting," Belle said to me.

"Quite," I replied, laughing. "You could've said yes to him, Belle. I wouldn't have minded. Nor judged."

"And abandon you? Don't be silly, Uncle Will. What do you take me for?" She pinched my forearm.