Worth Saving(62)

As soon as we sit, a completely nude woman holding an empty tray approaches us and asks what drinks we want. When we try to tell her we still have drinks leftover from upstairs, she tells us we have to order drinks since we’re downstairs now. We have to have a drink at all times.

“Well damn,” Jason says. “I guess I’ll have another Crown and Coke.”

Jordan and I repeat our drinks from upstairs also, and the naked waitress brings them over to us in no time at all.

There aren’t a lot of people in the room, but there’s a few booths that have people in them. There’s a couple of wealthy-looking guys sitting in the booth opposite us, and there’s two women sitting with them. The women are both good looking, which seems to be the norm in here, but when I look closer, I see one of them literally has her hands in the pants of the guy she’s next to. I look up at the guy, and he’s sitting there like nothing’s happening at all.

“Dude, what the f*ck goes on down here?” I hear myself say. Jason keeps his eyes stuck on something across the room, but Jordan looks over at me. “Bro, check out the shit happening in the booth across from us.”

Jordan looks and I see his eyes bulge.

“Holy shit. Right out in the open, too,” he says. “So that’s what available means. I don’t know about this shit, man. Michelle would flip out if she knew I was in a place like this. This shit is a little too much.”

“I feel you, man,” I reply. “We’re gonna give this place ten minutes, then we’re out of here. Either back upstairs, or better yet, to a place that doesn’t have prostitutes working in the basement. Hurry up and finish your drink, Jason, so we can get the f*ck out of here. This place is crazy.”

Jason doesn’t respond. He just sits there, staring out in front of him like he’s trying to solve a math problem in his head.

“Jason, did you hear me?” I ask, tapping his leg. “Hurry up, so we can go. Stop drooling.”

“Austin,” he says. His facial expression has changed now. He looks like he just saw a ghost.

“What?” I reply, my frustration building.

“Austin, I think we’ve got a problem, man,” he says. “Bro, who is that over there in that booth? The one on the other side of the stage. Back corner.”

I have to lean over so I can see around the stage, but once my line of sight is clear, I can see there’s a booth with two people in it—a man and a woman. The man is dressed in business attire just like Jason and Jordan. The woman is only wearing a black bra and black panties. She has long brown hair and her skin has a beautiful tint to it. She’s not wearing any jewelry except a silver charm bracelet on her right wrist. Her face is flawless, even though she looks like she’s having the worst day of her life. She’s the most beautiful woman in this f*cking place, and it tears my heart into tiny little pieces when I realize it’s Layla. My Layla.

“Wait . . . what?” is all I can say when it hits me.

“Dude, is that her?” Jason asks, but he already knows.

“Oh my f*cking god!” Jordan says when he catches on. “Austin, what the f*ck?”

This doesn’t make any f*cking sense!

“Whoah, this is not a bar. She is not f*cking bartending, man,” Jason says, pointing out the painfully obvious.

My brain is scrambled. All I can think of is questions. What do I say? What do I do? How do I move? Do I stay here? Do I confront her? Can I just fall on the floor and die right here, right now? What the f*ck is going on?

So many questions all at once, and not even one answer. I feel like I just fell off a cliff and now I’m dropping, but there’s no ground below me. It’s just an infinite fall that’s sure to last the rest of my life. I’m falling and it’s never going to stop.

I can’t grasp a thought out of the million floating around in my head, so I just sit there and look at her. She looks miserable as the man sits next to her talking her ear off. I can’t even tell if she’s listening or not, because she’s staring off into space, barely blinking.

Still, I can’t help how my heart feels. I know she works here. Not just here at Red Pony Gentlemen’s Club, but in the basement of Red Pony Gentlemen’s Club. I look back over at the booth across from us, and the woman still has her hands in the guy’s pants, but now he has his hands in her panties too. They’re just sitting there going to town on each other right here in front of us, and they don’t give a f*ck. I can’t believe Layla is one of these girls who are available.

My eyes naturally shift back over to Layla. She’s still sitting there, unmoving, but the man next to her is getting anxious. He scoots closer to her, and I feel my blood starting to boil. I watch as he puts his hand on her leg and rub her knee. She sits there, looking completely uncomfortable for just a second, but then she slaps his hand away. The man in the suit looks stunned and pissed off. He stares at her as she says something to him that I can’t hear, and I watch her get up and walk away. The pain I feel suddenly starts to morph into pride. She’s walking away from him. Is it because she’s thinking about me? Is she coming to her senses for me? But that all comes crashing down around me in the blink of an eye.

Layla leaves the man in the booth all alone, and she walks over to another booth—the biggest booth in the place—and she sits down next to a bald guy who’s already sitting with three other half-naked girls. He has a thick beard that I immediately recognize. It’s Damien. She just sat next to Damien. Her f*cking ex-boyfriend, Damien.