Utianle

Drops of water from the overhead shower pelted my skin, causing me to yelp at the hotness. My fingers quickly moved to adjust the temperature, sighing in relief when the water turned warm. I grabbed the loofah hanging from the door, scrubbing every inch of my body until it felt sore.

Images of the last client I attended to played at the forefront of my mind; the way his stomach peeked out of his white shirt while chubby hands that had previously gone to caress his saggy, hairy balls hovered above my butt and I scrubbed harder, not stopping until the only scent that lingered on my body was that of my bathing soap.

"Madam Bose?" Droplets of water pooled at my feet and I shivered slightly in the large towel that was wrapped around my chest. Pushing one foot in front of the other, I continued that way until I was standing beside her.

Madam Bose's forehead was pressed flush against the locker that housed my belongings and her black gown clung to her body like a second skin. Her chest rose and fell with every breath she took and her eyelids slowly parted open at the sound of my voice; she wasn't supposed to be here.

"Are you up for another private session?" Her eyes trailed from my body to the bundle of naira notes I retrieved from my locker. "We have a first-timer and he is demanding for you; he appears rich and is very young."

Private session was a polite term for VIP clients with lecherous fetishes like making out with your fellow female dancer while they jerked off. Sometimes, it meant extra minutes of sliding down a pole, lap dancing, hair ruffling, head rubbing and, in some cases, going home with the client.

Young men gave the highest tip but they had the wildest requests, the kind that my body could not tend to at this point. The last one I attended to had a spanking fetish, one that saw me unable to sit still for a day or two.

"No, I'm not," we stared unblinkingly at each other with our eyes trying to convey what our lips couldn't. She gave a defeated shrug when I refused to back down, stretching one hand out for me to drop her cut.

Madam Bose and I were brought together by my eagerness to liberate myself from the cuffs of poverty. As a divorced mother of three, she understood my struggles, hence the rules and working hours were a bit more flexible for me. In return, I made sure to requite the required fifteen percent of whatever amount I got. Though it was five percent higher than what she charged the rest, I never complained.

"It means more money for us," she tried again but I shook my head, one hand already fondling with my outfit.

When she left, I stood in my wide-leg jean suspender and a black long-sleeved sweatshirt until I finally mustered the courage to take a look at myself in the mirror. Unlike the confident blue-eyed lady in the exotic dancer gold sequin outfit and matching stiletto heels who sashayed out of this locker room a few hours ago, the woman who stared back at me had tired eyes and an unhappy smile.

She didn't possess the grace Amber Lee did when she took over the stage nor the long Brazilian hair that swayed with every step she took. Except for her eyes whose light had deemed a little, she looked ordinary, easily forgotten.

Masking the emptiness I felt with a smile that was comparable to that of a lottery winner, I strutted to the bar.

The bar was more engaging at this time of the morning, when the alcohol had finally taken over the tongues of men, dissipated the air of superiority that had settled in the club upon their entrance. It was also a chance for me to get extra cash from the pot-bellied men who grew very generous the more inebriated they got.

Their complaints were always the same - why couldn't their wives dress sexily like the strippers or lose some of those body fats or even try to smell good?

"Hey, boo!" Alex's arms wrapped around me, his relief evident in the way he hugged me closer to himself. Giggling at his excitement, I returned the hug with the same enthusiasm, content to be in the embrace of a familiar presence.

Alex was the best bartender at the club which meant he had to be here daily, a job he no longer enjoyed as it cut short the time he was supposed to spend with his one-month-old son.

"Are you ready?" He asked and I nodded. I was the only one who agreed to man the bar for him without expecting any forms of payment, giving him a chance to leave three hours before 6 am, his usual closing hour.

In truth, I was reluctant to go back home to the responsibilities and leery eyes of the Landlord that awaited me. No one knew who I was here and that alone gave me some sense of freedom. We caught sight of a man in a suit approaching the bar and Alex hurriedly made a beeline for the exit, shouting his gratitude into thin air.

The stranger plopped into the barstool, tugging on already loosened tie with his eyes set on his phone screen that displayed an all too familiar video. He looked out of place with his complete suit ensemble, possibly the first-timer Madam Bose was referring to.

"King!" The syllable slipped from my mouth as soon as he raised his head up, that arrogant smirk I had come to associate with him dancing on his lips.

"The one and only."

Shoving the phone into his pocket, he placed both hands on the counter, smiling devilishly like he could tell I was the dancer on his screen. "I am pleasantly surprised to see you here."

"I can't say the same for me."

"Are you sure about that?" He whispered, his voice was a few octaves lower and it sent shivers down my spine.

"What do you want?" I asked instead. We were the only two left at the bar which meant I was stuck with him till the early hours of the morning.

"Sex on the beach."

"W-What?" I sputtered, all thoughts of being nice to him flying out the window.

"Sex on the beach, a glass of it." Amusement danced in his eyes as he took in my facial expression and he erupted in fits of laughter that caused a few eyes to turn in our direction.

"We don't have it," I knew the cocktail drink quite alright but it was the way he said it, I could have sworn he meant everything but the drink.

He continued laughing at me and I was really tempted to do damage to his handsome face; a broken nose might be good for his ego. I bit the inside of my cheeks hard but it did nothing to stop the violent thoughts that swirled in my head. Only when he stopped laughing did I begin to breathe normally again.

"You should have seen the look on your face, I was just kidding." He said, finally removing the tie he had been messing around with.

"I thought you were a fashion designer, why are you bartending?" I kept mute, hoping he would take the hint that his presence was not wanted here.

"Is it the money, how much do you earn per night?" He asked and I dropped the towel I was using to wipe the invisible dirt on the counter.

One thing was certain, King was a pest - that lone housefly that always came back after you bathed your house in insecticide, making sure to remind you of its presence by buzzing close to your ears.

"Five hundred thousand naira!" I muttered, it was the highest figure that came to mind, an amount I had never had the pleasure of owning. "Now, are you buying a drink or not?"

An eyebrow rose, a ghost of a smile flitted across his face and I groaned inwardly; this man right here was my punishment for working in strip clubs. "I'll pay you double that amount if you agree to be my girlfriend for the weekend."

That got me really interested, my hands stilled on the counter, the mask of indifference back on my face as I made a mental calculation of the items I could tick off my list.

"Go on, keep talking."

"I'll explain everything if you agree."

"No, details first."

"Two million naira?"

My eyes bulged out at this amount and I didn't bother with trying to mask my emotions. He wasn't fazed by my reactions, instead, he was relaxed, like he was requesting the menu at his favourite restaurant.

"Are you a ritualist?" He threw his head back and laughed, this time, it sounded like music to my ears and I found myself grinning at him, my residue anger dissolving.

"No, babe but I'm desperate."

With that amount, I could pay my rent, sort out Esther and Emma school fees for the next term, even afford to take a flight to Lagos rather than a bus, I could even quit the strip club. My head bobbed on its own in acceptance of his proposition, for the first time, life was been very fair to me.

*****

I have been quite busy and will be for a long while but here's an update. I'll do my best to update more often.

Anyways, how's it going with you?