“Honestly sounds like more fun that what I'll be doing,” Val sighed as she yanked a dress out of her closet and tossed it onto the bed. Then she grabbed a bottle off her tatty dresser and started rubbing lotion all over her legs.
“Please. You get to dress up every weekend and go hang out at a fancy ass nightclub. I wish I got to do stuff like that,” Bailey sighed.
Valentine glanced over at her, then paused and looked back. Bailey was nineteen, but age was only a number at Caché. How long had it been since Val had gone on a Girl's Night Out? Sure, she had to work, but Bailey deserved a night off just as much as she did – Valentine had taken last Saturday off.
Now it was Bailey's turn.
“You can,” Val said, standing up straight. “Come with me tonight.”
“What?” Bailey looked stunned. “But ... you always told me that place is crazy.”
“It is, but it's also a good place to forget about your problems for a little while.”
“But ... but ... I'm underage.”
“Not a problem when you know the right people,” Val winked at her.
“I ... I wouldn't even begin to know what to wear,” Bailey said, glancing around as if Valentine's room somehow had a response to that.
“That's why I'm here,” she replied, then she turned with a squeal and started rummaging through her closet. “You're skinnier than I am, but I think your boobs are bigger, so that should even things out. Oh my gosh! This is perfect for you!”
She pulled out a red tartan, pleated skirt and tossed it onto the bed. She leaned over to a different section of closet and quickly found a tight, black, button up cardigan. It joined the skirt while she went over and dug around in a tupperware bin. She let out a triumphant shout and pulled out what she'd been searching for – a pair of knee-high white stockings.
“I cannot wear this,” Bailey breathed, holding up the small skirt.
“You can, and it will look awesome,” Val assured her, shoving the rest of the clothing into the girl's arms. “Now go change – don't come back if you're not wearing it!”
After Bailey left, Val wiggled into her own outfit. It was a simple brown dress, with a low scoop neck and long sleeves, and a hem that went clear to her ankles. The entire thing was skin tight, hugging her body in a way that was almost obscene. She loved the juxtaposition of showing very little skin, but still looking sinfully sexy.
She was just sitting down to strap on a pair of dangerously high stilettos when there was a soft knock at her door.
“I can't wear this,” Bailey whined from the hallway.
“I'll be the judge of that! Come in,” Val ordered, fighting with the buckle on the second heel.
The door opened and she heard a few hesitant footsteps. Out the corner of her eye, she could see that Bailey had put on a cute pair of black boots, almost combat style. Doc Martens, possibly. They were totally her style, and she was such a tall girl, the flat shoe would probably make her feel more comfortable in her new outfit.
“I look ... ridiculous,” Bailey sighed. Val laughed and finally lifted her head.
“It's probably not as bad as you – whoa.”
“Is that a good whoa? Or a bad whoa?” Bailey asked, curling her fingers nervously around the hem of the skirt.
“That's a 'I better keep an eye on her or she'll steal all my clients' whoa,” Val explained as she stood up. “You look amazing, Bailey! Who knew this body was underneath all those black clothes!?”
Valentine didn't have a problem with Bailey's somewhat goth dress attire – whatever made people comfortable, that's what people should wear, that was her motto.
But still, there was always something neat about seeing someone step outside their comfort zone and try something a little new.
Bailey looked like a super sexy extra from the movie The Craft. The cardigan was just a little small on her, which only added to the effect. Her breasts were almost overflowing the low neckline, and the tight, knitted cardigan hugged her slender waist, showing off the gentle slope of her hips.
The skirt was short, but of course, it had been designed to be, and it was the perfect choice for someone like Bailey. She was around five-foot-nine or ten, and the skirt made her mile long legs look more like five miles.
All in all, the outfit was sexy without being slutty, and was totally suited to Bailey's already somewhat-witchy look.
“You really think it looks good? I don't have any shoes to match,” she complained.
“No, the shoes are perfect, honestly. Tones it all down, makes you look like a badass. Like are you going to fuck me? Or are you going to sacrifice me to Satan tonight? Who knows?” Val joked, and Bailey burst out laughing.
“And that's a good thing?”
“Oh, for sure. Trust me. Men will line up to be your sacrifice, I guarantee it,” she assured her. “Do you want any makeup?”
Normally, Bailey favored a heavy black eyeliner, a somewhat “raccoon” look, but she was fresh scrubbed that day. She had large, soulful gray eyes and generous lips. She glanced at Valentine's “vanity” - a shit ton of makeup strewn in a semi-circle around the base of her full length mirror.
“No, I'm already taken up too much of your time, you still have to do -”
Valentine laughed and grabbed the other girl's hand, yanking her down to the floor.
“We're going to have so much fun tonight! And thank god, because I really need it.”
AT NINE-THIRTY, VALENTINE led Bailey into Caché and introduced her to her co-workers. Gary promised to keep an eye on her if Val got too busy with a client, and Del offered Bailey a job right on the spot, which Val declined on her behalf.
Then at ten o'clock, the doors opened and people started spilling in. Some sort of big basketball deal was going on – a game or a conference or something, Valentine didn't know.
What she did know was that every basketball player within ten miles of Caché had apparently decided to turn up that night, and each one brought a small entourage with him.
The club went nuts. The Dance Room was pumping, wall to wall people bumping and grinding on the floor. Two rooms upstairs had been opened together, and a giant tub had been placed in the middle of them – a KY Jelly wrestling tourney was underway; clothing optional, of course.
Every go-go dancer, every escort, everyone period, was going full tilt. It was a night that held a lot of potential for Valentine, but as busy as it was, she knew she couldn't leave Bailey alone, not that night. So she helped around where she could, delivering bottles to VIP tables, introducing men to other escorts, helping Gary serve drinks. Bailey was always close behind her, and even helped out a couple times in a pinch.
“I'm sorry this isn't the night of fun I promised you!” Valentine yelled around midnight, leaning in close to the other girl's ear. They were on the dance floor, crushed between people and swaying to the beat.
“Are you kidding?” Bailey yelled back. “I'm having a blast! This is incredible! Like half these guys are famous!”
“How do you even know that!? You don't watch basketball!”
“NBA 2018 for Playstation, duh!”
Valentine started laughing, but then she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned around, quickly shaking it off, but was pleasantly surprised when she saw Evans Daniels standing behind her.