“What’s going on?” Susan asked.

Leo said, “I’ll be right back.”

Susan was confused. They were leaving her? “No,” Susan said. “I’ll come with you guys.”

Leo leaned close to her and took her gloved hand. “I just bought Archie a lap dance,” he said. He nodded at the girl, who was now pressing her bare chest against Archie. “I think he’d be more comfortable if you stayed here.”

Susan laughed. Leo was insane. A lap dance? Archie didn’t want a lap dance. Archie Sheridan didn’t do lap dances. There was no way. This was some sort of miscommunication. Susan looked over at Archie, waiting for him to honorably reject the offer. The girl had her arm around Archie’s waist. He didn’t seem to mind. He was smiling. Susan felt her face get hot. “Oh,” she said.

She stood there stiffly, while Leo walked Archie and the girl off to one of the private rooms down the back hall, and all the creepy guys seated around the stage clapped.

Then she sank down in Archie’s empty seat and peeled off her purple elbow-length gloves. She could feel herself starting to sweat, the silk cape sticking to her skin.

“You changed your hair,” Henry said.

“Don’t talk to me,” Susan said.

A new song started, and another mostly naked girl climbed up on the stage and started wiggling. Susan took a sip of Archie’s abandoned beer. She didn’t know what it was, but it tasted terrible.

Chapter 4

CHAPTER

4

Leo led Archie and the dancer into one of the club’s private rooms. It was the size of a walk-in closet with a built-in bench on all sides, and mirrored paneling custom-fitted to the walls and ceiling. The effect was disorienting—Archie’s reflection stared back at him from every surface. The dancer took his hand and he allowed her to guide him to the bench and sit him down. Leo grinned and took a seat next to him on the bench. Then Leo poured some of the Glenlivet he’d acquired as they had passed the bar into two glasses and handed one to Archie. There was a brass pole at the center of the room. Electronic dance music played through speakers that Archie couldn’t see. The dancer leaned forward and blinked at Archie with her heavily made-up eyes. Her breasts swung. Her chest was beaded with sweat. She was wearing devil horns. “Happy birthday,” she said in a breathy voice.

“Thanks,” Archie said. “But it’s actually not until tomorrow.” He looked over at Leo, who was already topping off his drink. “I don’t really want a lap dance,” Archie said.