Folk Around and Find Out (Good Folk: Modern Folktales #2)(128)

Can't get enough of grumpy / sunshine books? Then check out these other books by Penny!

Homecoming King -- She's a crafty bartender and he's the taciturn pro-football player she's had a crush on since elementary school, and now he wants to pay her to be his wife.

Beard Science -- He's a grumpy, nefarious auto-mechanic, and she's a short woman baker who wants to blackmail him.

Elements of Chemistry -- They're college chemistry lab partners, but she keeps hiding in closets (probably because he's a jerkface bully).

Sneak Peek of All Folked Up, Book #3 in the Good Folk: Modern Folktales Series





*Hannah*





“To go wrong in one's own way is better than to go right in someone else's.”

FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY, CRIME AND PUNISHMENT





The theme of my retirement party was Spring Break.

I’d chosen it after the monetary success of an impromptu car wash we’d had last summer. If tonight was my last night as an exotic dancer, I wanted to go out with plenty of buck for my bang—if you catch my drift.

Wet T-shirt contests, a tiki bar, a limbo bar (how-low-can-you-go limbo, not the Catholic-waiting-room limbo), umbrellas in every drink, and a skimpy swimsuit on every dancer. New costumes were a major expense for a dancer, but all my ladies already owned bikinis. I wanted my colleagues to make money on my party, not be forced to spend it.

“Goldie! Where are you going?”

Without turning to check who’d called after me, I lifted my voice and yelled back, “Be back in a minute. Just need to freshen up!”

Jogging in my stilettos, I came to a stop just inside the hallway off the main floor. I needed to catch my breath and deposit the cash weighing down my swimsuit. While a Jimmy Buffet dance remix pumped over the speakers, reverberating through the walls and in my bones, I plucked the ones and fives from my string bikini and bundled them together, not bothering to count.

I never counted until the end of my shift and saw no reason to break tradition now.

But I did dash down to the dressing room to store most of the cash, leaving just a few bills tucked into the front of my bikini costume as inspiration for other customers to do the same.

The party, which was now in its sixth hour, had been rowdy for sure, but also thankfully uneventful. No one had broken any rules, no one had picked a fight, no one had been thrown out. Most of my regulars had shown their faces, and handing them off to other dancers had struck me as oddly bittersweet.

But . . . so it goes.

Cash dropped off, bottle of water chugged, my breath finally even, I pushed myself into the right headspace, a task that had been surprisingly difficult tonight. I blamed the contingent of firefighters who’d arrived a few hours ago. Apparently, some of the fellas from the neighboring fire stations—“nice” guys I’d gone to elementary, middle, and high school with, but who I’d never spotted at The Pony before—had all talked, and since I was retiring, they’d figured it was their last chance to see me naked.

They were right. Tonight was their last chance.

I wouldn’t go out with George Padmar if the only other alternative was a rabid raccoon. A rabid raccoon would be a better conversationalist and likely have more self-control. That said, I’d let George and all his buddies look at my naked body to their hearts’ content tonight as long as they were stuffing bills in my bikini and kept their mouths shut.

Two more hours.

Just two more hours and then I’d be finished, done for good. I liked my boss and I liked my coworkers, but after ten years of doing this job week after week, I was more than ready for a change.

Taking one last bracing breath, I lifted my shin and plastered a coy smile on my face, getting into character.

I’d just stepped out onto the floor when Kilby—aka Fantasia—intercepted me. “Louis is looking for you. Another lap dance in the champagne room, all bought and paid for.”

She winked, then altered course, sashaying to one of my regulars—that is, one of my former regulars—and placed her hand on the back of his chair. I didn’t waste time watching what happened next.

If someone had already paid for a dance and was waiting, I wanted to get it over with before another queue formed. Earlier in the evening, the line for a private dance with me had been ten folks long. Doing three private dances back-to-back was tiring, but ten took the steam out of a girl real quick. My legs would hurt tomorrow, make no mistake about that.

Careful not to engage in any lingering eye contact, I hopped up to the bar and waved Louis over. Louis was a fine bartender, but he’d never worked in a strip club until Hank had hired him three months ago. As such, he needed guidance and mentorship, both of which I’d be able to give him after tonight when my official role switched from dancer to club manager.

Lifting his chin when he spotted me, Louis wiped his hands on a towel and abandoned the drink he’d been making. He then jogged over to where I waited at the end of the bar. “Hey, Hannah.”

I tried not to grimace. “It’s Goldie. My name is Goldie on the floor.”

“Oh. That’s right. Sorry I keep doing that.” He looked contrite. “It’s only you I keep messing up. Well, you and April.”

“You mean, me and Shimmer.”

“Yes. Sorry.” He huffed, giving his eyes a half roll. “I will stop doing that to Shimmer.”