G-Men: The Series Read online

  “Pole-dancing? Me?”

  “Why not you? You’re pretty damn limber and it’s a hell of a way to build up your biceps and triceps that you’re always whining about, sweetie.”

  “I know, but Vonda, come on. Don’t you think I’m a little bit old for that type of --?”

  “I think the word you’re looking for is exercise, Sam. Good grief, it’s not stripping. It’s a great dance art form, and to answer your question, no. I’m on the roster. Do you think I’m too old?”

  Vonda had me there. At fifty-six-years-old, there wasn’t too much that Vonda couldn’t do. Maybe it wasn’t out of the question. After all, I’d taken three years of ballet under the tutelage of Madame LeBlanc when I was in grade school. She had told me I had natural grace. I had taken it to appease my mother, who insisted on lessons of some sort during my formative years.

  “Okay Vonda, I’m in. When does it start?”

  Vonda was tickled pink that we had enough members signed up to bring in who she claimed was the ‘queen of pole-dancing.’ The instructor’s name was Ginger Cooper and she’d actually won a third place trophy in the Midwest Pole Dancing Competition the year before.

  The lessons started the following week and were daily for the following three weeks. I had no clue that pole dancing was recognized globally as a competitive sport and art form. I’d always regarded it as being a second cousin to stripping. Boy, had I been misguided.

  Ginger was extremely talented and driven. She expected no less from her students. She was brutal in her training and assessments.

  After the third day of lessons, I told Vonda I was contemplating dropping out. I could barely move a muscle. It had certainly burst my “I’m in great shape” bubble. My God, I hadn’t known the muscles that were now feeling a slow, burning pain even existed.

  “No, you’re not,” Vonda stated, in her authoritative tone. “If I can hang with it, you sure as hell can, Sammie. Besides, you’re doing great.”

  “How do you figure, Vonda? You heard Ginger today telling me to get the lead out of my gluteus maximus while she was instructing us on the snowflake or pretzel, or whatever the hell she called it.”

  “She’s tough, I know, but really Sammie, you’re doing great. Hey, I bet your husband would love a pole dance demo once you finish this class.”

  “Yeah, right,” I said, getting clothes out of my locker. “He hasn’t even noticed my new svelte body,” I replied, rolling my eyes.

  “What’s his problem?”

  “I guess he doesn’t find me attractive anymore, maybe he never did,” I replied with a shrug.

  “Humph,” Vonda said, shaking her head. “You’re gorgeous. You do realize that, right? I hope to God you don’t see yourself through his clueless eyes, Sammie.”

  “You’re required to say stuff like that to paying members, right Vonda?”

  “You’re so full of shit, girlie,” she replied, still shaking her head. “I hope to Christ you wake up and smell the coffee one of these days. That’s all the pep talk you’re getting from me today. I’ll see your getting-tighter ass in here tomorrow for our lesson.”

  I started to say I wouldn’t be coming, but then I thought about it. Maybe Vonda was right; maybe I did have potential. Maybe I would give Jack a demo when classes finished. Maybe he’d even want to touch me again.

  I stopped by Becky’s on my way home. I hadn’t talked to her in the last couple of weeks. She knew I was totally wrapped up in my “exercise” classes as she called them. She was simply relieved that I was finally doing something just for me.

  “Holy shit,” she said, her eyes widening as she held the door open for me. “You’ve lost a ton of weight, Sam. You look fantastic!”

  “Thanks,” I said, rolling my eyes. I didn’t do well with compliments. It was probably because I wasn’t used to getting them.

  “No, I mean it. Your damn body looks like a teenager’s. What type of exercise class is it? Maybe I’ll join you.”

  “It’s kick-boxing and Pilates. I just added pole-dancing to it.”

  “Oh, God! There’s no way I could hang with that, but Sam, it looks so freaking good on you! I bet Jack is drooling, right?”

  “He thinks I look great,” I lied.

  “I bet the mannequin hasn’t even noticed, has he?”

  Becky knew me so well. She seemed to know Jack much better.

  “You know, he’s been pretty busy these days. He’s been traveling for work quite a bit. We barely see one another.”

  “Uh huh,” she replied. “He’s such a fuckwad.”

  “Becky,” I said, my tone cautioning her to just let it go, “how have things been with you?”

  “Everything’s good. Shawn’s playing junior high football. Megan’s doing well with her piano lessons. George still fucks me at least three times a week.”

  “Braggart,” I said, with a smile. We both laughed, and the mood lightened.

  I loved my best friend, but our worlds were different. That was just the way it was. She’d finished high school and college, married George, had two great kids: a boy and then a girl. She had done everything right. Her life was the American dream. It was the way that things were supposed to work out.

  We made plans to meet the following day. I needed to shop for new clothes, she’d pointed out bluntly. She was right.

  I was surprised that Jack was home by the time I got there. He’d been in Charlotte, North Carolina, for the past three days on business. Banion Pharmaceuticals had plans to open a large distribution center on the east coast.

  Jack had been negotiating with members of the Chamber of Commerce both in Charlotte and in Charleston, South Carolina, for tax incentives. The two cities were competing with each other to be awarded the location where the facility would be built. It would employ up to five hundred people when completed.

  He’d just finished up in the shower when I came into our bedroom. I made it a point to undress in front of him, hoping that he would notice and perhaps get the hint.

  “How was your trip?” I asked, kicking off my shoes and lifting my sweatshirt up and over my head.

  “Brutal,” he replied, getting his nail clipper from the top of his dresser. “I have to fly to Charleston on Friday. Our meeting is early Monday morning, so I figured I would have the weekend to prepare my presentation.”

  I slipped my sweat pants off, and unhooked my sports bra, springing my breasts free. I’d always been rather proud of them. They were still full and perky. I sauntered by Jack who was now sitting on the bed, clipping his toenails. I got clean underwear from the drawer and sat down on the bed next to him.

  He finally looked up at me, noticing that I was practically naked in front of him. His eyes narrowed infinitesimally, as he actually looked at me for the first time in weeks.

  “Have you lost weight, Sammie?”

  “It’s nice of you to finally notice.”

  “Have you been feeling well?” he asked.

  “I feel great. I’ve been working out, getting in shape. What do you think?”

  “I think that you’ve probably lost all of the weight you need to lose. If you get much scrawnier, people will think that you’re ill.”

  “Hey, “I said, moving closer to him on the bed. “How about I go with you to Charleston? We’ll have a romantic weekend together. We haven’t gone away together alone for as long as I can remember. This would be perfect.”

  “Babe,” he said with a sigh, getting up off of the bed. “The whole point of me going down Friday and staying over the weekend is to prepare for Monday’s meeting. I mean, you know how it is with me. I need that total concentration, no distractions when I’m preparing for a big presentation. How about a rain check?”

  “Sure,” I said. “I’ll just list that in our rain check voucher. Maybe one day I’ll be able to cash in on all of these IOUs.”

  Jack didn’t even bother to respond.

  Well, so much for that.r />
  No mention of how my legs, arms, and abs had gotten into shape with ample muscle tone. No mention of how he missed our making love, since it had been months now. I guess that was too much to expect from my mannequin husband. Christ, I was sounding like Becky now. Maybe she was right. The bottom line was that I was getting sick to death of Jack’s inattentiveness towards me. Maybe I needed to take the next step in getting a life of my own.

  I sauntered into the bathroom and took a shower. I decided I would start looking for a part-time job as soon as possible. I needed more things of my own.

  chapter 4

  It was the final day of our pole-dancing lessons, and Vonda and I were chatting in the locker room after showers.

  “So, aren’t you glad you finished the lessons?” she asked, towel drying her flaming red hair. “Ginger certainly gave you kudos today after your number. I was a bit jealous, Sam. Did you hire a choreographer to put that together?”

  I knew Vonda was being funny. She loved to tease me about how well I was doing with the whole pole-dancing thing.

  “Ha ha, Vonda,” I replied, smiling. “You certainly didn’t do too badly in Ginger’s eyes, as I recall.”

  “Honey, she was just being nice to the old lady in the group. Plus, I’m the one who cuts the check for her hefty fee.”

  “Yeah, right. You know you have the body of a thirty-five year old,” I chided.

  “Aren’t you thirty-five?”

  “Yeah, so?”

  “Well honey, I certainly don’t have a body like yours, though I’ll take the compliment. Thank you. Of course, you have to recognize your body has gone younger since you’ve been coming here.”

  “Gone younger?”

  “Absolutely. You’ve got the bod of a twenty-something since you’ve started working out. Now, if we could just do something about your hair and make-up.”

  I rolled my eyes as I put a clean sweatshirt on over my head.

  “Roll your eyes all you want. I mean it, though. Plus, you still wear clothes that cover all of your toned muscles and ligaments. What a shame.” She was shaking her head and ‘tsking’ me.

  I closed the door of my locker, fastening the lock into place.

  “Hey Vonda, you wouldn’t be in need of any part-time help here, would you?”

  “You aren’t seriously looking for a job are you? Come on Sam, I know you don’t open up a lot about your personal life, but I wasn’t born yesterday. I see the car you drive, the brands of the clothes and shoes you wear. I have a hard time believing you need money.”

  “It’s not really about the money,” I replied, tying the shoelaces on my Nike Air Max shoes. “I just want something of my own, I guess. A job working here would give me that, plus I’d be doing what I love to do.”

  Vonda was thoughtful for a moment.

  “You know, Sam, I don’t have anything at the moment. My tight-ass husband does the books for this place, and he keeps telling me to cut back as it is, but I might have something else for you. I just need to talk to my sister, Janine.”

  “Janine?”

  “Yeah, Janine manages a gentleman’s club over on West Washington Street. With your looks and dance skills, I’m sure she might be able to hook you up with some part-time hours.”

  “Uh . . . Vonda, I’m not thinking of stripping or giving lap dances. I was thinking more along the lines of personal trainer, maybe?”

  “Well, good luck with that, sweetie. But before you slam the door on my suggestion, let me clarify it for you. This club has a variety of clientele. Granted, late night and early morning hours, the clientele wants to see a lot of skin and private dancing. I know that’s not your gig, sweetie. I was thinking maybe she could hook you up with an early shift. That’s when there’s more interest from the after-five businessmen in viewing pole dancing with the classier chicks. That way, you will be doing what you love, right?”

  “Well, I don’t know. I mean I’ve never pictured myself as being a dancer at a gentleman’s club. I mean, what do they wear?”

  “Very little,” she answered, honestly. “What are you worried about?”

  “I don’t think I’m the type, Vonda. It’s just not me, you know?”

  “What is you, Sam?”

  I hesitated, trying to think about how I visualized myself. All I came up with was how other people visualized me.

  I was visualized as a daughter, a wife, a mother, a best friend by those people in my life, but I had no clue as to how I viewed myself as a person. I’d never bothered to carve out an identity for myself.

  “That’s what I thought,” Vonda replied with a smirk. “Look, before you shoot the idea down, visit Janine at the club. I’ll give her a call and see if she can meet with you some afternoon next week. See you Monday?”

  “I’ll be here,” I said, giving her a weak smile.

  I convinced myself on my drive home that there would be no harm in at least meeting Janine and seeing what the club was like, but I sincerely doubted that pole dancing at a gentleman’s club was the identity I truly wished to carve out for myself.

  I spent the weekend cleaning the house. Jack was in Charlotte again, only this time he had mentioned the fact that Susan was accompanying him. They supposedly were meeting with the city government officials to wrap up the deal. The decision had been made to build the distribution center in Charlotte. Jack had said he’d be gone a week this time. They were meeting with surveyors and contractors.

  I was fairly certain that Jack was fucking Susan. His increased obsession with his looks and wardrobe hadn’t gone unnoticed by me. I was surprised at my own impassiveness about the situation. Perhaps having gained some self-confidence these past couple of months had given me some perspective on my marriage. Becky was right, Jack was a mannequin. Correction: Jack was a cheating mannequin.

  I was putting some of the new clothes I’d purchased into our large, walk-in closet. I had to shove Jack’s clothes over to make room. He had one whole side of the closet, and half of mine. Becky had pointed out how unacceptable it was that Jack had a much larger wardrobe than me.

  On second thought, his clothes were all going to the other side. I wasn’t going to have my new wardrobe getting wrinkled because they were all crowded together. I removed handfuls of hangers with Jack’s shirts and sweaters on them and hung them on the bar on his side of the closet. There. His clothes could get smashed together now. My cell chimed from the bedroom. It was Lindsey.

  “Hi, Mom,” she greeted cheerily from the other end. “I’ve been worried about you.”

  “Me? Why?”

  “You don’t call me as often as you used to. I’m beginning to think you don’t miss me anymore.”

  “Sweetie, you know better than that. I just know you’re busy with college. I’ve been trying to find some hobbies of my own to fill the void.”

  “I’m so glad to hear you say that, Mom. What have you been doing?”

  “I’ve been doing kick-boxing and Pilates.”

  “No, really Mom. I’m serious.”

  “So am I.”

  “Really? Well, that’s fantastic. It just doesn’t seem like you. So are you enjoying it?”

  “I love it,” I replied, honestly. “I had to buy all new clothes, though.”

  “You were due, Mom. I’m really happy that you’re finally doing stuff for yourself. How does Daddy like it?”

  “I’m not sure he’s really noticed, Lindsey.”

  “I’m sure that he has. You know Daddy. He’s just not one to make a big deal out of anything. Is he home?”

  “No, sweetie, he’s in Charlotte for a week or so. He finally tied up the deal with locating the new distribution facility for Banion. He’s been pretty distracted.”

  “Well, see then,” she replied, giving him the benefit of the doubt for his lack of attention to me. “I’m sure once that facility is up and running, Daddy will have more time to spend with you.”

  She didn
’t realize that the distraction wasn’t the distribution facility. It was Susan.

  “How are your classes going?” I asked, desperate to change the subject with her.

  “For the most part fine. I mean there’s the usual struggles with chemistry and trig, hut no surprises there. I have an upperclassman tutoring me. He’s totally hot so it’s kind of distracting.”

  “Lindsey,” I laughed, “Your dad and I aren’t paying that kind of tuition for you to be distracted.”

  “No worries there. He’s totally about the tutoring, trust me.”

  I breathed a silent sigh of relief. Lindsey had gone through a painful break-up the previous summer with her high school sweetheart, Lance. I’d done my best to soothe her pain, all the while really wanting to tell her that it was probably the best thing that could have happened. I’d seen a lot of Jack in Lance, and I wanted better for my daughter.

  “Mom, I’m still planning to come home for Christmas, but I’m sticking around here for Thanksgiving. One of the girls in the dorm has invited me to her family’s home in Connecticut. We’re going to do a little skiing. Are you okay with that?”

  “That’s fine, Lindsey. I’m not even sure what we’ll be doing. Your grandparents are still in Hawaii until after the first of the year. Things have sure changed in a year, I guess.”

  “You sound sad. If you want me to come home, I will.”

  “No sweetie, I’m fine. You stick with your plans, okay?”

  “Okay, if you’re sure.”

  “I am, sweetie.”

  chapter 5

  I was sitting at the bar at Jewels waiting for Janine to finish chewing out one of the employees in her office. Kevin, the bartender, had given me a glass of club soda to drink. He chatted with me for a few minutes. I picked up on a distinct Boston accent. He was a fairly friendly guy, telling me a little bit about the club and the clientele.

  It was just after 11:30 a.m. The club officially opened in ninety minutes. I looked about, studying the layout. There were three separate horseshoe shaped stages with seating around each. Towards the back, there was a sunken seating area with round tables and cushioned seats. I figured those separate seating areas were for customers requesting private attention from a dancer.