Chapter 3: Drinks

Evelyn POV

The meeting went horribly. So horrible in fact that he pulled out his investment completely. When the interns were completely unprepared and their presentation was a shitshow I explained that they were new employees with this being their first meeting. I was hoping to get some sympathy out of Mr. Armstrong, but that’s when those stupid interns admitted that they were interns. Mr. Armstrong took great offence to the idea that I put interns on his meeting.

“If I’m so unimportant that my meeting deserves mere interns, I suppose my investment isn't important enough for you. I’m pulling out.” In an angry huff, he left the room. I fired the interns on the spot. I spent the rest of my day hunched over my computer trying to patch things up with Mr. Armstrong and reconfiguring finances.

Those dumbass interns ruined everything for me. Mr. Armstrong was one of our oldest investors, being here since my father. If other investors found out about losing his investment, they would ask questions. They might pull out too. I had to fix this as soon as possible. As my fingers flew across the keyboard, Scott brought me my third coffee in the past hour. I had to fix this now and I didn’t care if that meant staying at the office all night.

“Evelyn,” Scott said with worry in his voice, “you really need to go home, or at least take a break.”

“No way,” I replied in between sips of my coffee and punching numbers into my calculator.

“This has to be fixed now, otherwise tomorrow my inbox will be filled with angry emails.”  Scott took the coffee mug from my hands.

“Come on, just a little break,” he pleaded as he set the mug next to the coffee machine. “You’ve been at this for hours.”

“I said no, just fuck off” I spat, my temper getting the better of me. Despite my harsh words, Scott didn’t flinch. It didn’t matter what I said to him half the time, he knew I never meant it. “Look, I'm sorry. I’m just really stressed.”

“I know,” he replied. “That’s why I’m saying you should take a break or better go home.” My chair rocks back and forth as I lean back in it. Even sitting here, I can feel myself dozing off. The only thing keeping me up was the caffeine in my veins and the occasional shake of my head.

“God, I need a drink,” I mutter to myself, or at least what I thought was to myself because in a second Scott’s face lights up.

“Let’s go out then!” he exclaims, grabbing my coat and purse. “I know this great place within walking distance where I go sometimes after work.” I didn’t know of any bars really close by. Well, there was that strip club.

“Are you talking about that strip club on second?” I asked.

“Yeah, they’ve got a killer bartender and this one stripper,” he whistles. “She knows how to work that pole.” I roll my eyes. God, I can’t believe he's trying to convince me to go to a strip club.

“I’m not going to a strip club to watch you jack off so some stripper.” He rolls his eyes in response.

“I don’t go there for the strippers, just the drinks,” he replies, offering me a hand up out of my chair. “But you should really see her. She’s a great dancer and she’s hot.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” grabbing my coat from Scott and swinging it around my shoulders.

“So, we’re going?” I nod.

“What can I say, you’ve convinced me.” He held my office door open from me.

“It was the mention of hot girls, wasn’t it?” he jokes as we head out of my office. I pursed my lips and nodded. We were the only ones left in the building, most of the cubicles being dark with the only ones being lit up by emergency lights and the red glow of the exit sign.

We left the building and began our walk to the strip club. How in the world did Scott convince me to go to a strip club with the promise of hot girls? Of course, there were going to be hot girls! It’s a strip club for fuck’s sake! If anyone saw me there and recognized me, I would be the talk of the newspapers for weeks. No one like me would be caught dead going to a strip club. But after a five-minute walk, there we were, standing outside a short building with a neon pink ‘Hollywood Strip’ sign buzzing above the entrance.

“This is a mistake,” I say as Scott holds the door open for me.

“Well,” he says, following me behind, “we’re here and we’re inside, what’s the point of turning back now?” Inside music rocked my eardrums and various coloured lights flashed as dancers performed their routines on various stages scattered throughout the club. The main stage was empty though which I noted as odd. Scott led me to the bar and we sat down. As soon as the bartender noticed us, he came over with a smile on his face.

“Hey Scott my man!” he said, throwing his towel over his shoulder.

“Sup Jimmy!” Scott greeted back. I stared in disbelief at the interaction in front of me. “We’ll have two whiskeys on the rocks.”

“Vodka,” I corrected Scott.

“Okay, one vodka and one whiskey on the rocks.”

“Coming right up!” said the bartender, or Jimmy, I guess. He walked away to start up our drinks and I turned to Scott.

“So, let me get this straight,” I started, “you know the bartender of a strip club on a first name basis? How often do you come here?” Scott shrugged and I sighed.

“Whatever. I just need a drink or two and then I need to get back to work.” Scott let out a sigh of defeat, realizing that he wasn’t going to get me to go home for a while. The bartender returned with both of our drinks in hand. The second he put mine down I grabbed it and drank it in one go. I shook my head to get the sting away and then slammed it back down on the counter.

“Give me another,” I commanded the bartender who was staring at me with a raised eyebrow.

“Rough day?”

“You have no idea,” I replied as he took the glass away. The drinks kept coming as the music kept blaring.

Then for a moment, the music paused and the announcer came on saying, “Now introducing the amazing Pearl!” There had been no other introduction to any of the other dancers which I had seen change out periodically. I turned around on my stool and that’s when my heart stopped.