Not Talented in Hollywood: Not in Hollywood Book 3 (14 page)

BOOK: Not Talented in Hollywood: Not in Hollywood Book 3
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I looked at the man sourly. “I was sent out to chase after
one of the girls that he’d manage to insult.”

“Strippers deal with drunk jerks all the time. They develop
a bit of a thick skin,” said Travis. “What the hell did he say that upset one
of them?”

“I don’t know,” I said, irritated with the situation. “The
man is gifted at being rude to everyone he meets. The first day I met him, he
told me that my eyes were too close together. I mean seriously, did he need to
bring that to my attention?”

Travis looked deeply at my eyes. “They don’t look too close
together,” he said, holding my gaze for longer than I felt was absolutely
necessary.

“Don’t tell me that,” I said. “Tell the man who has managed
to reduce several of the women working here to tears due to his insensitivity.”

“So, where is the woman he upset?” Travis asked.

I shrugged. “Probably looking for a gun. I tried to calm her
down but she just seemed to get more hysterical. I have a really bad feeling
that Alistair may be sleeping with some of the girls.”

“Why do you say that?” asked Travis.

“Just lately, I’ve been getting a bit of a weird vibe from
some of them and he’s been having some meetings with the manager that I keep
getting locked out of.”

“You want to be in on the meetings with the guy who manages
this place?” Travis asked.

I saw his point. Hammy Pollard had tweaked every single one
of my female defenses the second I met him. The man had been the owner of
Hammy’s for decades, but I am sure there is a way to do that without exuding
the sleaziness that this man did. I had been introduced to him the day we
started and his first action was to rake me head to toe, as if calculating the
amount of money I could bring into his business on a nightly basis.

“No, but they’ve been yelling at each other behind closed
doors. Considering the way this deal is worked out, they both need each other.
Alistair needs access to the place and permission for his cameras and Hammy,
from what I’ve heard, needs the money,” I said.

“What do you mean, by what you’ve heard?” Travis asked.

“The girls talk and I listen. Hammy has got some major debts
to unsavory people. The girls say that he is working them harder, trying to
push them further as to what they will actually do.”

“You know Trudie, there is a reason you get into trouble.
You need to learn to keep your nose out of other people’s business, especially
when you are in a place like this. People who work here and come here do not
like having someone poking around in their affairs.” Travis had a worried look
on his face.

“This from the man who spends his life poking around in
other people’s affairs,” I said quietly. “I’m not asking for information, I
just listen. Some of these girls just want to talk to someone who is actually
paying attention to them.”

“I thought the documentary filmmaker was supposed to be
doing that, you know, going behind the scenes, finding out the gritty realism,”
Travis said.

I snorted. “Alistair wants his name in lights. He doesn’t
really care who he has to trample to get there.”

“Speaking of which,” Travis said. “I think that’s your boss
trying to get your attention.”

I looked over and sure enough, there was Alistair glaring at
me.

“See you later,” I said to Travis, before heading off to
whatever new torture Alistair had waiting for me.

“I don’t pay you to flirt with the customers,” he hissed as
I walked up to him.

Technically speaking, he didn’t pay me at all. His manager
had hired me, through my boss, Monique Petit, to keep an eye on him and try to
smooth the ruffled feathers that he invariably caused.

“You told me that my services were no longer required and
that I should comfort your interview subject, who had become distraught due to
your line of questioning,” I reminded him. Of course I was using much more
professional language than he had.

“Well, where is she?” barked Alistair.

“She was extremely upset and wanted to be alone. She asked
to be excused from filming for the rest of the day,” I said.

To be perfectly honest, she had suggested that he put the
camera somewhere that would prove very uncomfortable if not anatomically
improbable. Of course I wasn’t going to tell the man who thought that he was
the greatest filmmaker alive that. Usually I find in these cases that honesty
is a pointless exercise.

“I need you to speak to the dominatrix. She is still
refusing to be on camera without her mask,” Alistair grumbled.

“I’ve already tried talking to her,” I said. “She is adamant
that her face never appear on camera.”

“Well I need you to change her mind, that’s what I pay you
for,” he snarled.

Once again I had to stop myself from reminding him that he
didn’t pay me at all.

Heading towards the back rooms I heard some familiar
yelling. Rounding the corner I found Hammy with one of the girls pinned up
against the wall in a threatening manner.

“What do you want?” he snapped at me.

“Alistair asked that I speak to Amber,” I said indicating
the young woman he had cornered.

“She’s busy,” he snapped.

This was where my negotiating skills needed to come in.

I shrugged in what I hoped was a nonchalant manner. “I have
got an overwrought filmmaker out there,” I said, hoping I was putting the
correct amount of stress into my voice. “I am trying very hard to make sure
that he doesn’t pull out of this deal. You know how much money we all stand to
lose if he decides to walk.”

I could see that got through to him, the mention of money
usually did. He stepped back.

“We’ll be discussing this later,” he growled at Amber as she
walked past him.

I followed her quietly back to the dressing room.

“Thanks for that,” she said, as she sat at a mirror and
started putting on makeup.

I sat down next to her. “I wasn’t lying, Alistair does want
me to try to talk you into being in the film without your mask on.”

“It’s not going to happen,” Amber said quietly.

“I know,” I said, “but I had to ask. It’s my job.”

“You’ve got a jerk for a boss,” she said.

“Your boss isn’t exactly Prince Charming either,” I replied.

“That’s the truth,” Amber said. “I just need to get enough
money together to get out of here. I just want somewhere that I can be safe. I
just want a home that can’t be taken away.”

“What’s Hammy pushing you for?” I asked.

“He wants me to do more for the customers, give them a bit
more of the fantasy.” She turned to me. “I came up with the dominatrix act so
that I could at least keep a bit of distance between me and them. I hate that
I’ve ended up here but I can’t seem to find my way out. The problem is Hammy
tells me that the way to make more money is to do more, show more.”

I nodded, trying to understand. The one thing that I’d
realized talking to these women over the last couple of weeks, most of them
were exactly like me. Sometimes the smallest things can lead you down a
different path. Amber was a smart girl, trying to survive the best way she knew
how. She’d ended up working for Hammy, but so far she had managed to do it on
her own terms. The dominatrix act she had come up with was pure theater. It
appealed to the clients but it also allowed her a measure of control that some
of the other girls didn’t have.

Later as I watched Amber on stage I could see her talent.
She was athletic and she had a presence. She was able to promise much but only
seemed to have to deliver a small amount. I had told Alistair that she was
never going to take the mask off for him. He had reacted with his usual temper.
Finally he realized that yelling at me wasn’t going to work at all. I was then
informed that I needed to put my time into sitting in a back booth of the bar
transcribing some of his riveting thoughts on the stripping industry and how it
could be used as a metaphor for the American economy. To be perfectly honest I
had no idea where he was going with this, but I would never be paying to watch
this movie, so it really didn’t make much of a difference to me.

After spending an hour trying to type on my laptop while
there was pounding music going on in the background and cheering drunk men
around me, I soon decided that I needed to find a new location. Travis, who had
continued to lurk around the bar sat down in the booth next to me.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“I am about to try to find somewhere quiet to work. I think
I might go out the back.” I started packing up my laptop.

“Can I keep you company?” Travis asked.

“Please tell me you are not just wanting to get a look at
naked strippers.”

“Really,” said Travis. “If that’s what I wanted I’d just
stay out here. No I’m getting a bit tired of all this in your face and just
needed a break.”

“Then go home,” I said. I stopped packing and looked at him
seriously. “I know what you’re doing Travis. I know you’re worried about me
working here and I know the only reason you have spent the last week sitting in
a stripper bar is because you are making sure I’m okay. The fact you are doing
that makes you, despite all previous evidence to the contrary, a really nice
guy. But it’s not your job to protect me.”

Travis looked slightly embarrassed. “This is not a good
place for you to be Trudie,” he said quietly. “If Griffin knew where you were
he would have a fit, you know that. I’m guessing it’s probably the reason why
you haven’t told him about it.”

It was definitely the reason I hadn’t told him. Having
Travis point it out to me though had me feeling even guiltier than I already
did.

“Fine, if I can’t convince you to leave, you may as well
come with me.”

I had become very familiar with the backstage area of
Hammys. Between calming down women who wanted to kill Alistair for his
interviewing style, and stopping the cameraman from doing another impromptu
shoot in the dressing room, I had pretty much found all the quiet and private
areas in the place. My preferred area was one that unfortunately the cameraman,
Hugh, had shown me. It was a little alcove, not far from the dressing room. It
was kind of hard to find and I really did not want to know how Hugh had found
it, or what exactly he had been doing in it, but for now it fulfilled my
requirements.

“Where exactly are you taking me?” asked Travis as the area
got quieter and more secluded. “I’m not complaining but I really think that I
should point out that I am not that kind of guy.”

I choked on the laugh that came out. “Who are you trying to
kid? You are exactly like that kind of guy. I would bet a lot of money that you
have led many a wayward young lady into a secluded part of a building.”

Travis smiled and I turned back to make my way through the
dimly lighted area. Finding a light switch, I flicked it, glanced back at the
alcove and froze.

“What?” said Travis, instantly on alert.

I pointed down. There lying on the floor of the alcove was
Hammy Pollard with a whip that I remembered from Amber’s dominatrix act wrapped
around his neck.

Travis instantly squatted down beside the body and checked
Hammy’s pulse. He looked up at me and shook his head. I wasn’t surprised. I
really didn’t think that the shade of blue on Hammy’s face was a natural hue.
Travis fished his phone out of his pocket.

“I’m going to have to call this one in,” he said regretfully,
which confused me.

Of course we had to call it in. Dead
man on the floor, you instantly called the police and they called in Homicide.
All of a sudden I could see why Travis was looking at me with some pity. Even
if Griffin was not working this case, I knew how the police worked. He would be
told that his girlfriend, once again, was at a murder scene, at a strip club
where I had been working for two weeks without telling him. I was so screwed.

BOOK: Not Talented in Hollywood: Not in Hollywood Book 3
10.03Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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