"Sure." She reached for her plate only to have Laura stop her.

"I'll get them. You go get ready."

The parking lot of the Tom Cat Club was blissfully empty when Crystal pulled in. After a quick check in the rear view mirror to make sure everything was in place, she walked over to the side door and pressed the doorbell. With three hours before the first show, Crystal was certain she would be able to find Rick in his office.

"Crystal!" the burly bouncer said in surprise when he opened the door.

"Hi Randy. Is Rick in?"

"Yeah, he's up by the bar talking to someone. Come on in." The muscle bound man stepped aside and waved his hand. "So when are you coming back?"

"I'm not sure. I have to talk to Rick first."

"Well talk nice. He's been a really fucked up mood the last couple of weeks. Sara and Monica both quit on him and he just found out today that someone's been helping themselves to the liquor. We're about ten cases short."

"Oh great," she moaned. Rick was hard enough to deal with when things were going well. When they weren't, he could be almost impossible to reason with.

"Just use your charm," Randy said. "After the week he's been having, seeing you will brighten up his day."

"We'll see about that," Crystal said nervously as she headed down the hallway.

Rick wasn't at the bar but rather in his office by the time Crystal found him. His door was slightly ajar, allowing her to see him pouring over the club's ledgers. Well here goes nothing. "Rick?" she called, knocking lightly on the open door.

"Crystal, what a pleasant surprise," he said, pointing toward a chair. "Come in and have a seat. I was hoping you'd stop by. I paged you a couple of time but you never returned my call. I was beginning to think we'd never see you again."

"I told you I'd be back after my lip healed," she said as she took a seat.

"Well you look great. Maybe put on a pound or two but you can take that off with no problem, I'm sure. After all, can't hide anything in a G-string, can you?"

"Um, no I guess not. Rick, about coming back to work"

"Oh man, you have no i.e.how hard it's been lately," he continued, pulling a cigarette out of his pack and lighting it. "First Sara says her boyfriend won't let her work anymore and then Monica goes and has one of her little fits and quits on me. I'm telling you, you are a gift from heaven walking in that door."

Oh great. Lay it on, Rick. Deciding that if she let Rick keep on talking he'd have her on stage in ten minutes, Crystal took a deep breath and played the carefully rehearsed lines in her mind one more time.

"It's kinda late notice but I think I can get you in tonight for a set or two."

"Actually that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Well what? You did come to tell me you were ready to come back to work, didn't you?" The joviality he showed when she first stepped into his office was quickly disappearing.

"I'm not sure I want to do the shows anymore."

"Not sure? What the hell are you talking about?" Rick leaned forward, making the large desk separating them seem smaller and smaller. "What else are you going to do?"

"What about waitressing? Or even helping behind the bar?"

"Men don't pay good money to see your ass sitting behind the bar, they pay it to see you up on stage taking it off for them." "Well maybe I'm tired of taking it off for them, maybe I want to do something else."

"Crystal Crystal Crystal," he said in the most condescending tone she had ever heard. "Look, if you're trying to hustle me for more money it isn't going to work."

"It isn't about the money."

"Well what is it about then?" the manager asked angrily. "I don't need another waitress or bartender. What I need and what I hired you for is to put your ass up on stage and wiggle that fanny for whoever is holding the almighty dollar, you got that?"

"Yeah I got it, Rick," she replied just as angrily. "You know you're not the one up there. You don't have to put up with those greaseballs trying to touch your body. I'm sick of it."

"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.