Meeting Sean

An excerpt from Servicing the Pole

“What do you really do?” he asks suddenly, catching me off guard.

I hesitate. “You’re looking at it,” I say.

“I don’t believe you. Do you go to school?”

I can’t believe I’m considering telling him anything about my personal life, but it spills out of me before I can stop it. “Not yet. I’m saving for music school,” I blurt.

Sean cocks his head. “Who do you like to listen to?”

“Oh, man, don’t get me started. I like a lot of blues. A lot of old stuff.”

“You look like a punk rocker. Or maybe a goth chick.”

“Anyone ever tell you it’s rude to typecast people?”

“Ah, come on. Most people are begging for it,” he says.

I’m so caught up in the conversation that I’m surprised when I look over at the wall and see Tina standing there wearing a stern expression, tapping her watch. I shake my head at her slightly and shrug, so that she at least thinks I tried to work Sean over. Fortunately, he doesn’t notice.

“I have to go,” I sigh. “I’m sorry.” I start to get up.

“Hey, I play bass,” he says. “We should jam some time.”

“I would love that,” I exclaim.

“Cool, let me give you my number then,” he offers, digging in his pocket.

“Oh, no, I can’t,” I hiss in his ear. “I’ll get fired if they see me write down your number.”

“Right,” he says, and I hear the sarcasm creeping back into his voice. My stomach sinks. He thinks I’m hustling him after all.

I can see Tina glaring at me out of the corner of my eye. Oh, relax, bitch. Sloane will make sure that you get to fix several times over tonight. Leave me the fuck alone.

I look at him again, apologetically. “Can you come back?” I whisper. “Just to give me your number?”

His expression is inscrutable once more, and I have to walk away before Tina comes over to us. I grit my teeth, angry that once again the club has managed to tear the rug out from under me, just as I was about to get something that I really wanted.

God damn this place.

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