“Organza,” Eliza purrs.My eyebrows rise. “Oh.” Jeez.“These are the tops our dancers wear with these bottoms.” She pulls out the bottom drawer and it is filled with coffee-colored, short, leather hot pants.I hate to admit it, but with the cream and caramel color palettes mixed with the leather and lace, it really gives off an expensive, sexy feel.“They don’t wear the skirts?” I frown.“No, it’s hard to straddle a seated man, lap dance in a tight leather skirt, and still maintain your dignity.”Not the answer I was expecting, but okay. She leads me through into another room where there is a beauty salon and two European male hairdressers.“Franco and Merrin, meet Vivienne.”They both look me up and down and smile.I nervously pull my woolen dress down. This is all just so… weird.“You get all of your beauty and hair needs looked after free of charge when you work here.” Eliza’s eyes flicker to me. “And the laser hair removal is on the house.”Shit. Well, blow me down. That’s a servi
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