Confessions of a Lapdancer. Литагент HarperCollins USD

me through the open-plan part of the office past most of my colleagues, I felt several pairs of eyes boring into me for any clue as to what had just happened.

      I kept gazing straight ahead and avoided any eye contact, passing Tania without a word and closing my office door.

      Sitting down at my desk, I realised I had been clenching my right fist so hard that my nails had made heavy indentations on the palm of my hand.

      I felt like punching a hole in the wall.

      I’d taken a calculated risk in buying my house in Greenwich, borrowing over the odds and budgeting for a bigger salary top-up to comfortably afford my monthly repayments. Now I was in the shit, lumbered with a huge mortgage and a stallion I wasn’t prepared to sacrifice.

      My train of thought was interrupted by Tania knocking on my door.

      ‘Geri, can I come in?’ she asked.

      ‘Um, just a minute,’ I replied, quickly checking my make-up in a compact mirror. ‘OK, what is it?’

      ‘There’s something you should know,’ she said. ‘There’s an email going around that lists everyone’s bonuses. The guys on the floor all know who’s getting what. Did you receive it?’

      I quickly scanned my inbox but couldn’t see anything.

      ‘Christ, Tania, how come you know more than me about what’s going on?’

      ‘I’m just telling you, Geri. I thought we were a team?’

      ‘Yes, right … but bonuses are none of your business,’ I told her. ‘If you’ve got one of these emails can you please forward it to me now?’

      ‘OK, Geri, no problem. I’ll do that immediately. And … I’m sorry …’

      I motioned for her to leave and close the door. A few seconds later, the email dropped into my inbox.

      My heart was pounding as I opened it up and scanned the list of names. There was only one I cared about: Luke Cotterill. Next to it was the amount: £30,000.

      His name came alphabetically just after mine, of course, so the difference was made even more painfully obvious. I’d been with the company for two years; he’d been there two months, yet he’d bagged £10,000 more.

      My head felt as if it was about to explode. Luke bloody Cotterill had landed a bigger bonus than me, simply for having a dick, as far as I could make out. And my God, was he a prize dick. OK, the guy had the balls to play the market and had a good brain, but he had the interpersonal skills of a chimpanzee. Surely it would have been better to have me on-side?

      This wasn’t the worst of it, though. By the time I’d gone down the entire list it seemed as if every jerk in the office had received more than me.

      A lone tear started to make its way down my face, blackened by Mac mascara. This time I’d been well and truly shafted by the boys’ club, and there was nothing I could do about it.

      I dabbed my face with a tissue and made myself presentable again, but who was I kidding? It didn’t matter how hard I worked, how much money I brought in, I was never going to outgun the big swinging dicks. Short of having a penis transplant, it just wasn’t going to happen.

      I needed to get out of there. But I still had the morning to get through before I could attend to practical matters like going back to the Pearl to collect my wallet. At least I had an excuse for not joining them for lunch. For the rest of the morning, I barricaded myself in the office, even forbidding Tania to disturb me. Then on the stroke of noon, I opened the door to my office and strolled out, a huge fake smile plastered on my face.

      ‘Tania, hold the fort, I’ll be out for a couple of hours,’ I announced.

      ‘Oh, right, where are you off to, Geri?’ she asked.

      ‘I’ll be on the mobile,’ I said, knowing I was being rude, but not giving a shit.

      If Luke Cotterill had so much as looked at me the wrong way as I left the building I might have done something I’d have regretted.

      As I walked towards Canary Wharf Tube, I thought how I never wanted to go back to the office again.

      Fuck ’em all, I thought. I might as well go and be a lap dancer and get screwed that way.

      I jumped on the Jubilee Line to Green Park and walked the rest of the way to the club. At least I wouldn’t have to be part of the lunchtime back-slapping that the Brothers would currently be indulging in at Ubon.

      It was strange seeing the Pearl in the cold light of day, its neon sign switched off. Any semblance of glamour disappeared without the veiling mystery of the night. But as I descended those red-carpeted stairs into the womb of the club, it came back to me how liberated I had felt the night before.

      ‘Hi,’ I said, recognising the girl behind the desk as the one who had given Luke his lap dance. ‘I’m Geraldine Carson. I’m here to collect my purse?’

      ‘Oh yeah, I’ll just ring Declan,’ she said in a raw East End accent.

      ‘Who’s Declan?’ I asked.

      ‘Declan Meleady,’ she said. ‘He’s the manager.’

      ‘Right,’ I replied, wondering if he was the dark-haired guy I’d spotted the night before, talking to Tania.

      She disappeared for a moment, then returned with an odd smile on her face. ‘If you just go in the club and wait at the bar, Declan will be with you in a minute,’ she said.

      As I perched myself on one of the high stools I surveyed the scene of my crime. Part of me wondered ‘What the hell was I doing?’ but there was also a tingle down my spine.

      ‘Miss Carson?’ said a voice behind me.

      ‘Call me Geri,’ I replied, turning round and blinking in the lights.

      ‘Hi, I’m Declan Meleady,’ he said in a sexy Irish voice, as I finally got a good look at the man who had given me unspoken permission to take over his club the night before.

      He was even better close up: well-cut dark brown hair, with warm brown eyes and the sturdy build of a stable hand. He was wearing a very expensive suit, almost certainly Savile Row’s finest, with a Ralph Lauren Polo shirt underneath.

      ‘Here’s your purse, Geri,’ he said. ‘I was going to contact you anyway.’

      ‘Ah yes, it was you in the top booth last night, wasn’t it?’ I said, drinking him in. ‘I’m intrigued why you didn’t set your Rottweilers on me – I was breaking the rules, after all.’

      His eyes twinkled as he smiled softly at me. ‘It’s my job to make sure the customers are happy,’ he said. ‘And that means knowing when to send in the clowns and when to back off. I had a few regulars in last night and I could see they were enjoying your impromptu performance, so I allowed it to continue.’

      ‘And did you enjoy my performance?’ I asked, realising I was flirting with him.

      ‘Indeed I did,’ he replied. ‘I was most impressed.’

      ‘Wow, thanks,’ I said. ‘That was my first time.’

      ‘But will it be your last?’ he asked.

      ‘I’m sure it will. I already have a very well-paid job,’ I replied, opening my purse to check its contents.

      It was only then that I realised the £500 worth of cash I’d taken out to pay for drinks at the club was missing.

      ‘Oh shit,’ I said, feeling a little panicked, ‘I guess I shouldn’t be surprised the money’s been lifted but, Jesus, I could have done with every penny of that.’

      ‘What happened to the very well-paid job, then?’ he asked.

      ‘Still have it, but it’s perhaps not quite as well-paid as I’d like,’ I explained. ‘I have