"So why the fuck are you here, huh? You find yourself a new boyfriend or something and he's putting you up to this?" Rick smiled, thinking he had figured out the problem. "I'll tell you what. You can tell your boyfriend you're waitressing if that makes you feel better."

"I don't have a boyfriend. That's not why I'm doing this," Crystal insisted, lighting a cigarette. "I'm just tired of stripping."

Rick let out a long breath and leaned back in his chair. "When you first came here, you didn't have a dime to your name. I don't think you even had a car then." He shook his head. "I don't know. I'm just trying to help you here. You're lucky to have a job like this. You know how many women would love to have a chance to be the star of the show?" With a heavy sigh, Rick opened his desk drawer and pulled out a manila folder. "I was going to save this for later but since you leave me no other choice remember I told you I wanted to talk to you after the show that night?"

"Yeah?"

"I was going to offer you a chance to make some real money. Not the ones and fives you get here but twenties and fifties." There's only one way to make that kind of money, Crystal thought to herself.

"I'm not planning on working here forever, answering to some corporate head in New York. I have this side business going and I was planning on giving you a chance to make some serious cash with it."

"Rick, you know I don't"

"Relax, babe. I'm talking about a few private parties, not standing out on the corner. And hey, if you want to make a few extra bucks that I don't know about, fine by me so long as the customer is satisfied."

The walls began to close in and Crystal quickly turned her head to see the door still ajar. Knowing that escape was easy, she forced herself to stay in her seat. "I can't do that Rick. You know how those kind of things turn out and I won't turn tricks for you."

"Babe, we're not talking about turning tricks, just a few private parties. You're blowing this all out of proportion." He put the folder back in his desk. "But if you want to waste the rest of your life working the club, go ahead. Six months from now I'll be able to quit this place and be a self made man. If you want to jump on the bandwagon you're welcome to but don't think for a minute that you're going to do anything here but be a kitten on stage." Rick stood up, his six foot frame towering over her seated position. "So it seems you have a choice to make sweetheart. Get your ass in costume and get to work or hit the streets. The choice is yours."

Now the office was definitely too small for her comfort. Crystal had hoped to come back part time if she couldn't get a job off stage but Rick made it clear that was not an option. She also knew that if she came back to work that Rick would never leave her alone until she was working his private parties, entertaining visiting businessmen in the horizontal fashion. Well Laura, I guess you got your wish. "If I can have my last paycheck I'll get out of here."

"Should have known you'd make the stupid choice," Rick said, walking over to the file cabinet. "You aren't going to find anyone who'll pay you what I was paying you to shake those tits around. I can't believe you're giving up this chance." He removed an envelope from the file cabinet and threw it on the desk. "Don't even think of trying to file for unemployment."

"Don't worry, I wasn't planning on it." Crystal rose to her feet and picked up the envelope containing her last paycheck. As she turned around, she found herself face to chest with the intimidating club manager.

"You know out of all the girls I've seen come in and out of this place you were the one I could have made something out of but you always thought you were too good, didn't you? Look but don't touch Crystal, right?" He stepped closer, forcing her to step back until she felt the unyielding hardness of the wooden desk behind her. "Someone should have taken you over their knee long ago and taught you some manners."

"Let me go, Rick," she said, trying to step to the side. The angry man quickly moved to cut off her escape.

"Maybe you just never had a man to teach you how to behave, is that it?"

"Rick, please, just let me leave." Crystal's heart pounded furiously in her chest.

"Hey Rick." Randy pushed the door fully open. "The delivery guy is demanding payment before he unloads. Something about our bill being too high. Sorry, didn't know you were busy."

"I was just leaving," Crystal said, moving past Rick and practically shoving Randy out of the way in her haste to escape. She felt a sense of relief when she reached the long hallway that led to the side door. Does he think I'm stupid or something? No way in hell I'm going to work for him anymore. I was stupid to think he'd to anything to try and help me. She pressed down on the crash bar and was greeted by the stark gray of the parking lot. Reaching her car, Crystal found her hands were shaking as she tried to get the key into the lock. It didn't help that she kept looking back at the door fearing Rick would come bursting forth. By the time she was inside her car, Crystal found tears she couldn't explain running down her cheeks. I have to get away from here. I have to get home. Not bothering to wipe her eyes, Crystal put the car in gear and sped out of the parking lot.

The townhouse was dark when Crystal arrived home, save for the single bulb illuminating the front door. A quick look around showed no sign of Laura's Jeep. Wonder where she went, Crystal thought as she made her way up the short walk to the door.

Tossing her keys on the table, Crystal walked into the kitchen, feeling around in the dark for the light switch. Looking at the door of the refrigerator, she frowned to see no note waiting for her. "She'll probably be back in a minute," she said to the empty room. What did she say she wanted for dinner? Some kind of fish. Wrinkling her nose at the thought, Crystal opened the freezer and pulled out a frozen pizza. What the hell, at least it's edible. A few minutes later the pizza was in the oven and Crystal was sprawled out on the couch. With the television remote in her hand, she began flicking through the channels. Boring, crap, boring, oh God not the Waltons. No, no, naw, Oh please that is so fake. Who the hell is going to believe two guys can beat the hell out each other like that and still be standing? Sixty channels and there's nothing on. Settling on a game show, she tossed the remote on the coffee table and looked at her watch. Where the hell are you? I thought you were going to be home tonight.

Two hours later the pizza was long gone and Crystal found herself sitting in the quiet living room staring at the clock on the wall. The television had been shut off in favor of the radio which proved to be no more entertaining and it also found itself shut off. Come on Laura, where are you? Her question was answered when she heard the sound of a key being put into the lock on the front door. Crystal jumped to her feet and opened the door. "Where the hell have you been?" she demanded.

"Hi there. I didn't expect you to be home yet," Laura said, her arms full of white plastic grocery bags. "I figured I'd get some shopping in. We're almost out of everything."

Crystal followed her roommate into the kitchen. "How long can that take? I've been home since seven."

Laura set the bags down on the counter and began putting the groceries away in the cupboard. "I go over to the super center near the interstate. They have the best prices but it usually is a mob scene there. Took me almost half an hour just to get through the checkout line." Laura peered into the bag. "I hope you like oranges. They were on sale so I picked up two bags "

"Forget the oranges for a minute," Crystal said. "You couldn't have left me a note? I had no i.e.where you were." Taking the jar of olives, she opened the refrigerator and carelessly tossed them on the shelf. "You bitch at me to make sure and let you know when I'm not coming home but you couldn't take two seconds to leave me a note?"

"I'm sorry but I didn't think you'd be home until later. You said you were going to the Tom Cat Club and I figured when you weren't home by six that you wouldn't be in until later," Laura said, neatly folding the empty grocery bags.

"Yeah well I've been here staring at the walls for the last two hours wondering where the hell you were. Give me those." Taking the bags of oranges, she walked back over to the fridge. "You'll be happy to know I'm not working at the Tom Cat anymore," she said, shoving the oranges into the bottom drawers.

"Yes, I am happy to hear that and easy on those. I wanted oranges, not orange juice."

"I had a rotten day at work and if one more moron insists on playing that damn rap shit I'm going to shove that frigging boom box down his throat. Then I go see Rick and he's his usual conniving asshole self then I get home and you're nowhere in sight." She jerked the pound of butter out of Laura's hand. To Crystal's annoyance, her roommate was smirking. "What the hell's so funny?"

"It's nice to know you care," Laura said, handing over the bottle of milk. "Did you eat?"

"I made a pizza but it tasted more like the box it came in. What about you?"

"Not yet. It's too late now. I'll just grab a snack."

"I thought you were going to make fish and rice or something like that."

"Sea bass and rice. I'll make it tomorrow night. The fish will keep." Laura handed over the last of the groceries and put the bags away. "So tell me what happened at the Tom Cat."

"Oh Rick was just being a jerk. Screw it. I hated working for him anyway. He's too sleazy." Crystal put the can of soup into the cupboard before heading for the sliding glass door. "I'm going out for a smoke."