Chapter 5

“Food is plenty,” Zane smiled, looking up from her work.

“Zane, I only pay half the food,” Dominique argued.

“You only eat half the food,” Zane retorted.

“You are so retarded,” Dominique said, her country accent taking much of the sting out of her words.

After making the determination that she needed a different job if she would manage her money a little better, Zane looked at the local listings. Unfortunately, for a young lady that barely graduated high school, the options were fairly limited.

“Damn, lot of dancers’ jobs, huh?” Dominique asked.

“There is no way I would ever…” Zane began.

“Changes,” Dominique said. “I’m going try that browning bag chuck; okay?”

“Ha! It’s already marinating,” Zane crowed happily.

“You’re right,” Zane said as they ate the meal.

“I know,” Dominique said smugly, then thought for a moment. “Right about what?”

“Changes. We going get anywhere, we need to make changes,” Zane said. “This cauliflower rice? Not a fan.”

“Oh thank God; I can’t stand it,” Dominique agreed.

Because it was a private club, Hunter’s Cabin displayed full nudity. Clarkston County had ordinances prohibiting the display of pubic hair and areolae but Hunter’s Cabin only allowed those that possessed a Hunter’s License to enter.

Besides having very attractive young women dancing, Hunter’s Cabin also had some of the best pulled pork, beef brisket, or hamburgers out there. His baked beans were legendary, as was his potato salad. The Gratchely’s draft was ice cold and the cocktails were expertly made.

“You’re hired,” Hunter himself said when a very nervous Zane entered the nightclub through the rear door.

“Wha-what?” Zane asked. “You, you don’t even know if…”

“Don’t matter, the handsome young man smiled, checking the slowly simmering barbeque sauce. “Told you to be here at ten. It is now nine fifty. Told you to use the rear door; you would be surprised how many girls stand out there and bang on the front door. You’re hired.”

Zane filled out the simple application form. As she scribbled, she and Hunter talked. He smiled and nodded that she certainly could give her current employer two weeks’ notice but if the current employer objected, he’d be happy to let her start earlier.

The manager squawked, blustered, promised, then angrily fired Zane. Her smile irritated him but there was nothing he could do that had not already been done.

Her first night, Hunter had Zane serve the customers. Dressed in crop top that displayed the Hunter’s Cabin logo and low-rider camouflage shorts that left much of her rear end exposed, Zane managed very nicely. While she worked, she also observed the dancers. She had to smile; much of it was not truly dancing.

“But damn; they don’t never stop, do they?” Zane observed as three dancers went into the Deer Stands while one dancer came off the stage just in time for another dancer to come onto the stage.

“Nope. And if they do? Well, there’s the door,” Swan, one of the dancers smiled as she did double-duty as a waitress. “Come on, Hunter; three brisket sammiches, huh?”

“Sammiches? God, would think you from Lowenburg or something,” Hunter teased, placing the three plates onto her tray.

“I is,” the strawberry blonde girl laughed, hustling to the table where three men waited.

“SO? How’d you do?” a very sleepy Dominique asked when an exhausted Zane entered the apartment.

“Three hundred and forty bucks,” Zane declared. “But Sweetheart, you, you didn’t have to wait up for me.”

“Can’t sleep without you,” Dominique admitted. “But, whew! Go take a shower, huh? Smell like a smokehouse.”

“Get used to it,” Zane laughed, skipping to the bathroom.

Her first night dancing, Zane was amazed at her take. In just a few hours of strutting around, she earned almost two weeks’ salary as her previous job. True, it had been a little disconcerting, removing her clothing in front of a room of strange men and a few women. Thankfully, the lights obscured many of their faces and the music drowned out any comments.

And backstage, the two dancers that waited their turns were very encouraging. Hurrying to pull on camouflage shorts and half shirt to assist as waitress, Zane was told she had a customer in Deer Stand 2.

“God, just love them itty bitty titties,” the well-dressed businessman said, ogling Zane’s body. “In high school? My girlfriend? Wore a twenty eight bra…”

When Dominique heard how much Zane had earned, she threatened to quit Wedges and come to work at Hunger’s Cabin. Zane threatened a severe spanking AND would tell Dominique’s parents if Dominique ever said such foolish things ever again.

Her next full day not scheduled, Zane again looked at her finances. The previous day, one of the older tellers at her bank demanded to know where Zane was getting all of the money all of a sudden. Quietly, but firmly, Zane asked to see the woman’s supervisor.

The manager did apologize for the teller’s rude behavior and concluded the deposit for Zane. She then became perturbed when Zane insisted on a paper receipt.

“It’s available on-line,” the manager said.

“Ma’am, that’s cash. Your computer goes down and wipes that out? I have no way of proving I made that deposit unless I have paper in hand,” Zane said.

But that confrontation and the less-than stellar service she’d received told Zane she should look for other means to save and to grow her money.

She made an appointment with Russell Ubelhauser and started an investment portfolio with the Ubelhauser firm. The handsome blond man did not bat an eyelash when Zane disclosed the source of her income.

“You are providing a service,” he opined. “And, apparently, people are willing to pay for that service. It is perfectly legal, even in the Bible Belt of Arkansas.”

She also opened a second investment account with Jack Thompson. The man had hit a few poorly performing investments but Zane was astute enough to recognize the value of having a broker that was willing to take risks. And, anyone can have a bad day.

“Hunter’s Cabin,” Jack smiled, drawing out each syllable. “Damn but they have an unbelievably good hamburger, don’t they?”

“Haven’t tried it yet,” Zane admitted. “His pulled pork is just too good.”

“Yes it is; and, he ain’t shy with the meat is he?” Jack agreed.

One third of each day’s take continued to go to her checking account. One third when into her Ubelhauser account. The last third went into her Thompson Holdings account. Over a few months, Zane was building an impressive portfolio. She even recommended both investment firms to other dancers. Zane was shocked at how many of these women simply handed their day’s earnings over to their boyfriends.

“Yeah? Why ain’t you handing your money over to me?” Dominique demanded, as she kissed and nibbled on Zane’s small breasts.

“It’s our money, Sweetheart,” Zane whispered, stroking her fingers in and out of Dominique’s wet folds.

“It was kind of risky,” Jack called her one morning. “But there’s a furniture store in Jack’s Creek, Louisiana that needed capital to expand their business. So, your ten is now forty thousand.”

“I, my what?” Zane asked, still groggy from a very late night.

“Oh God, did, did I wake you?” Jack apologized.

“Wide awake now,” Zane stated. “Let me see. Jack, Jack, had, is that right? Had twelve, now have… Thank you Mr. Thompson.”

Zane authorized another five thousand to a company in a small Ohio town that had gone from manufacturing replacement windows of polymer to making personal pleasure devices. Within a month, that five thousand had quadrupled.

“Hey,” the apartment manager said when their paths crossed in the laundry room. “Listen, sign up for another year? Rent will stay the same. Six months and it’ll go up fifty a month.”

“Thanks,” Zane said, transferring her clothing from washing machine to dryer.

“You know, every month? In Pembleman they do some kind of auction,” Dominique said when she got home from another shift at Wedges. “Sell houses been foreclosed on. I swear; the new assistant manager? Girl don’t know nothing!”

Both Russel and Jack echoed what with Dominique had said; on the first Tuesday of every month, on the courthouse steps of Clarkston County, the county auctioned off foreclosed homes. And both Russel and Jack encouraged Zane to buy; she was getting no return on her investment of renting an apartment.

The first Tuesday, Zane and Dominique showed up, briefcase holding thirty thousand dollars. But every house they tried to buy, others out-bid them. The same thing happened the next first Tuesday of the month. Each property they attempted to buy, they were out-bid.

“Hey girls,” an older man said, approaching them after the third Tuesday of failing. “What’s going on? Minute it gets to thirty thousand, y’all quit. Even when it’s a house y’all really want, y’all just quit.”

“That, that’s all we have,” Zane groused.

She actually had much more, but with Russel and Jack’s assistance, Zane had determined she would spend no more than three years’ rent on her current apartment. Hence, the thirty thousand dollar evaluation.

On the fourth Tuesday Zane showed up alone; Dominique was taking a test she could not miss. Looking at the listings on her phone, Zane decided she’d bid on 1215 Myrtle Place. And if she failed to get that home, she would bid on 103 Cottonwood Road. And if that failed to happen…

“First up, twelve fifteen Myrtle Place,” the auctioneer called out. “That’s one two one five…”

“Ten thousand,” Zane called out.

“Wenty nine five,” another man called out.

“Percy…” a harsh voice warned.

“What Coleman, huh? Twenty nine five. What’s the big deal, huh?” Percy Collins snapped.

“Thirty thousand,” Zane said, holding her breath.

“I, I got it? I got it?” Zane gasped when Percy did not up the ante. “I got it!”

Most of the men chuckled at the cute little girl’s enthusiasm. As Zane hurried to pay for her purchase before Percy or anyone else could change their mind, the auctioneer called out another property.

Clean-up was a herculean task; the evicted renters had not taken their eviction well. Zane did what she could, which admittedly was not much. The rest, she hired contractors to do the repairs. After five weeks, she let the apartment manager know she would be vacating the apartment.

New paint, new carpet, new bathroom fixtures, and new furniture, their home was beautiful. A brand new hot tub purchased from Caldwell’s Pools & Spas sat on their back porch, waiting to be filled and used. Another contractor came out and built a privacy wall around three quarters of the tub and also installed a doorway from master bedroom that let out into the small alcove where the tub sat.

“Perfect for making love,” Zane whispered, kissing Dominique. “And when it gets too cold out here? Can just run inside, right to the bed.”

“I can’t believe this is all ours,” Dominique whispered, still in awe.

“It’s all ours,” Zane agreed, hugging her girlfriend.

The second Sunday after moving into the home, they threw a small Housewarming Party. Of the men that worked at Hunter’s Cabin, Patrick Fowler was the only one to show up. A few of the dancers did show up; three had their boyfriends with them.

“Hang on, hang on,” Corinne, who danced under the name Jewel looked around. “You telling me you bought all this? Dancing?”

“Yeah,” Zane agreed. “I mean, I had some help; remember I told you about Ubelhauser Investments, right?”

Brent, Corinne’s boyfriend suddenly found the billiards table in the middle of the living room to be of extreme interest. Loudly, he proclaimed, one hundred bucks, he’d beat anyone.

“Hundred, uh? Boy, that’s MY hundred bucks,” Corinne snarled.

“Shit baby, I got this. I’m a natural at pool,” Brent assured her, smiling his most confident smile.

“Better not lose, all I’m saying,” Corinne muttered as Zane racked the balls.

Zane magnanimously let Brent break. He managed to have the 13 ball roll into a corner pocket but was unable to make a second shot. Stepping up, Zane then ran the table.

She did not keep the five twenties a crestfallen Brent surrendered to her. Instead, she took a paper clip and fastened one of Russel Ubelhauser’s business cards to the five bills before handing them over to Corinne.

Patrick wagered a crisp new Benjamin; again Zane allowed him to break. He did not manage to sink anything on the break, and smiled good-naturedly as Zane again ran the table. Gertrude/Cinnamon’s boyfriend then decided he’d try to win Zane’s money. Gertie got her hundred dollars back with Jack Thompson’s business card pinned to the weathered bill. The third boyfriend and the mannish looking girlfriend of the two remaining dancers were smart enough to keep their money in their pockets and their mouths firmly shut.

The two waitresses and the assistant manager from Wedges also tried their luck at the billiards table but none dared to wager any money. Dominique took Zane’s place at the billiards table as Zane took over duties of serving their guest finger foods.

“That was fun,” Dominique smiled happily as the last guest departed their home.

“Come on; winner gets to eat the loser right here on the table,” Zane smiled, racking the balls.

“Prepare for defeat,” Dominique laughed, grabbing her new cue stick.

“Prepare to spread ’em,” Zane smiled, letting Dominique break.

One hundred and nineteen people signed up for the tournament. Nicholas Cohen had once again signed up and was loudly proclaiming he would be taking home the thousand dollar prize. His girlfriend, a petite Asian-American girl giggled and cooed and agreed that her Nicholas was very skilled at billiards.

Nicholas was not the only one braying and posturing. But the nine women that had signed up stood, silently waiting to be called to a table.

“Helmont, Campbell, table one,” Eddy Jones called out.

Zane almost laughed at the stricken look the two women wore. Once again, Lynn Helmont was dressed in severe denim cutoffs and patent leather vest. Christine was dressed in white lace corset and short black pleated skirt. The garters of her thigh high stockings were visible as she strolled around the large building.

“Aaronson, Cohen,” Eddy called out after drawing two more names from the bucket. “Table two.”

Zane approached the table, carrying her Bill Coski case. She did not acknowledge the stunned Nicholas Cohen as she calmly took her cue from the hard case. Then, she twirled the two halves in her hands like batons before assembling the cue stick and placing the case underneath the table. She turned and nodded to her former boyfriend.

“Whatever. Think those stupid tricks are going impress anyone?” Nicholas finally sneered as he unzipped his vinyl case and assembled his own stick.

They lagged to see who would break and Zane won. The entire time, she was silent; cool, calm and collected. The only time she spoke was to call out her shots.