Sexy

I’m not go

Forget all that shit.

I go back out into the common room where all the guys hang out and do my thing. “What’s Sexy Man have to say this week?”

Mitch throws the weekly tabloid at me and hits me in the chest. “We laughed about it yesterday, asshole. You’ve just been too caught up in the boss’ daughter to even remember we exist.”

“Yeah, well. She’s been trying to fire me all week. What was I supposed to do? Let her get rid of me?”

“You should read it,” Steve says, pointing to the magazine. “It’s got you written all over that shit. We laughed so hard last night in the bar.”

I grin and open the trashy paper to the weekly columns and start reading.

Dear Sexy Man,

 

I got a problem. A girl showed up who’s way above my league and I fucked her blind in my office. The problem is, she’s my boss. And now she wants more and I just don’t know how to tell her to get lost without losing my job. Help!

 

Signed,

Cock on the Clock

I let out a laugh. God, this shit is priceless.

Dear Cock on the Clock,

 

Never, ever, fuck the boss, son. You have two choices. Marry the bitch or quit your job and move on. Boss bitches never get over it. So declare your independence and fly free, young man. Learn your lesson well. It’s a memory for the books, that’s for sure. There’s nothing better than getting off with a woman who’s forbidden. But the cock gods demand to be paid. So next time you’re tempted to fuck where you work, ask yourself, ‘Is this the girl I want to marry?’ And if not, then tuck that cock back in your pants and move on.

 

Love ya,

Sexy Man

“Classic shit,” Bill says, grabbing it out of my hand. “You know, Sexy Man was getting lame there for a while. Talking all serious. I was begi

“He’s still fu

“He gets letters, dumbass,” Sean says. “All he’s gotta do is pick the fu

“Like hell. You’re as dumb as a hammer,” Mitch says. “You couldn’t write something fu

“Never,” I say. “The last thing I want is to spend my free time thinking about that stupid column.”

“I still think it’s fu

“I’ve got five minutes, Steve. What’s the rush?”

“Get a move on, Fletcher,” Chandler says, slamming the door behind him. “If you’re back, then be back. Not that you’ve even been here the last few days. You missed three practices this week.”

“Corporate, man. Blame them for that shit.”

“They wouldn’t even be here if you weren’t fucking off.”

“Well, I have a feeling my days are numbered. Mr. Preston is go

“I think he knows we’re his money-makers, Fletch,” Chandlers says. “I’ve talked to him about it. He just said keep it clean.”

“Keep what clean?” Mitch asks. He sounds as a

“Yeah,” Steve says. “We don’t do clean. Those women don’t want clean. They want dirty as fuck. I’m not giving up a whole night’s worth of tips to keep that asshole happy. Especially if he’s just looking for a reason to shut this show down.”

“Calm down,” Chandler says. “It’s one night.”

“One night is nothing to you, I guess,” Sean says. “I’ve got bills to pay. And I count on tips to make that happen. It’s not like we’re raking in the cash with this gig. It’s Tahoe, for fuck’s sake. Not Vegas.”

“Listen,” Chandler says, clearly getting pissed off. “If you want to keep this job, then do what I say. Preston wants a clean show. It’s his fucking hotel.”

“It’s not his hotel, actually.”

“What?”

They all turn to look at me and I’m sorry I mentioned it. But once you say it, you gotta explain. These guys won’t let me off that easy.

“It’s Tiffy Preston’s hotel. Her old man doesn’t own it. She does. And I’m pretty sure she wants to get a good rating. And the way we do that is to do the best show ever. That’s not pulling punches. That’s making those women scream our names, cover their mouths from embarrassment, and tell all their friends this was worth every pe

“Don’t even, Novak.” He walks over to me and stares me in the eyes. “I’m telling you all right now, we’re go

I stare back at him, my fists clenching right along with my jaw.

“You got it?”

“I got it,” I snarl. “You have another job waiting, so you could give a fuck if we fail.”

He pushes me hard in the chest and I have to take a few steps back. “Fuck you, Fletcher. You’re the problem here, not me. You’re the one they want to get rid of, not me.”

“I quit yesterday, asshole. And I’m the one who’s still here. So I’m obviously not that expendable.”

“Wait,” Sean says. “What does he mean you’ve got another job?”

“His pussy-whipped ass took a job in Reno because his girlfriend was bitching and moaning about the show. Didn’t he tell you?”

I know he didn’t. It was between us. But I know my time here is just about over. So fuck it. Chandler isn’t go

“Is that true?” Mitch asks. “You’re bailing and you want us to basically throw the fight so you can… what? Get a severance bonus if the hotel gets a good ranking?”

Chandler stares at me with squinted eyes. I crossed a line with him. It was a secret. And he’s got plenty of secrets of mine too, so I should’ve been respectful of his. But the last man standing doesn’t get there by being a pussy. “Tell them, Chandler.”

“I’ll tell them a lot more than that, Novak.”

I throw out my arms. “Go ahead. It’s my last night, anyway.”

“OK,” Steve says, pushing himself between us, one hand on each of our chests. “Let’s just relax and get through the show. Then we can all have a day to cool off, and discuss it on Monday.” He looks at me. “And Fletcher, for fuck’s sake, you’re not getting fired. I heard Claudio talking you up on the phone earlier today to Preston. I think her father is a good guy.”

“So I’ve heard,” I say. But that asshole is go

But I don’t say any of that. That really is crossing a line. Tiffy doesn’t deserve to find out about her dad from my big mouth. I’m not sure where I stand with her from one minute to the next, but I do know I don’t want to hurt her.

Chandler stares me down for a few more seconds and I wait to see if he’ll spill any of my secrets. But it’s one thing to tell the guys he’s leaving. We’ve been expecting it for a couple months. It’s something else to tell them what I’m up to.