"Edy, are you sure you want to buy this? I really don't like this place. It gives me the creeps." So said Maris, Edy's best friend and co-worker at Infrared, one of the hottest "gentlemen's clubs" in town.
"Come on, Maris," said Edy. "It's not so bad. Besides, I think this thing is calling to me; I think it'll bring me luck."
Maris tossed her pretty blond hair and laughed, "Luck? You're in need of good luck? You're one of Infrared's top headliners! You don't need luck."
Edy rejoined in good humor, "Maris, it's not as if I'm superstitious, but I think it'd be good in my act."
Inside the dimly lit shop they went, picking their way through cluttered aisles. It was an antique store of sorts, dealing in rare and unusual items. Among the myriad items adorning the window display was a costume most elegant and sexy – a dress of the shiniest, blackest satin, daring décolleté, skintight, slit on one side clear to the knee.
At once Edy fell in love with it. "It's rumored it once belonged to the legendary Dorine Delish."
"Dorine? The hot stripper from back in the 60's?," asked Maris unbelievingly.
"The very one." That voice, aged and careworn, made the girls turn around. Tentatively approaching them was an elderly man, obviously the owner of this curio shop.
"I remember her. She performed at the Pink Flamingo years ago. The same place that is now Infrared." He nodded in the direction of the club situated across the street.
Edy eyed this man cautiously. There was something about this short, thin, graying, balding, soft-spoken gentleman that didn't quite register. Maris noticed it too but said nothing.
The owner continued, "You know she wore that dress the night of her final performance."
"Final performance?," asked Edy.
"She gave the performance of a lifetime. I was there in the crowd of gentlemen and ladies cheering her on. Dorine had a style all her own. She had dreams of going to Hollywood, perhaps making it in the movies. But things happened."
Maris knew of Dorine's fate. She said to Edy, "She was murdered, Edy. They found her dead in her apartment the morning after. No one knows who did it."
"They say it was the boyfriend. Maybe he couldn't take it anymore...You know, what she did for a living."
Edy stared longingly and lovingly at the daringly sexy dress, sighed, and finally said, "I don't care, Maris. I want this dress. Can you imagine if I wore this for next week's act? It would be the act of my life!"
It was no secret Edy Smith had dreams that went beyond the crimson doors of Infrared. She wanted to get into movies and TV, be a legitimate actress instead of spending the rest of her life bumping and grinding in a strip joint. Not that Infrared was a cheap strip joint; it was the hottest, classiest "gentleman's club" in town. Perhaps, thought Edy, wearing this dress, performing in the place which formerly housed the famed Pink Flamingo, duplicating Dorine's routine, would bring lasting glory.
"My mind is made up, Maris," she said with conviction. She turned to the shop's owner, asking, "Sir, how much for the dress?"
The owner looked at Edy curiously. "Are you certain you want this? It hasn't been worn since Dorine met her end."
"I don't care. Besides, I'm not superstitious. How much?"
With much argument and haggling, Edy walked out of the shop with the treasured dress.
"Edy, I don't know what you're thinking of. This whole thing really gives me goosebumps. I mean, didn't you see the way that old guy looked at you while he rang up the sale?"
"Will you quit being so pessimistic, Maris. I'm wearing this dress next weekend. It'll be one our biggest nights; Fred said so. And with me on the stage, in this fab dress..."
******
In the privacy of her condo, Edy Smith emerged from the shower. Toweling off, she stood before the floor-length mirror in her bathroom, admiring what she saw. Not that Edy was a vain or conceited sort about her appearance. To the contrary, Edy was satisfied with her natural good looks, but not totally "stuck" on herself.
Not quite 5'6" and possessing pronounced feminine curves, she was a strikingly beautiful woman. Her abundant, slightly wavy dark auburn hair, still wet from the shower, cascaded down and around her shoulders. Her skin had a slight tawniness – a sort of creamy bisque – was a testament of her mixed heritage. The eyes were large and bright green, the lips full and ripe, cheekbones high.
Edy was not supermodel thin; her curvaceous figure echoed a bygone era: when such well-endowed silver screen ladies as Marilyn and Jayne reigned supreme.
Edy Smith boasted a perfect 38D bust, narrow waist, broad hips, a plump rounded bottom, long shapely legs.
Knowing that time was getting away from her, Edy, still nude, went to the bedroom, took the newly purchased satin dress from its box, then returned to the mirror. Holding the dress to her body, Edy made a few sexy wriggles, admiring how the dress seemed to fit.
"But I don't have it on – yet!," she giggled as she let her body weave suggestively. Amazing how the dress seemed to be the same size, but Edy decided not to put it on until the night of her "big" act.
She had worked on that act the past few weeks and honed it to perfection. It was to be a hot, sexy dance and strip, a paeon to the queens of burlesque: Gypsy, Sally, Tempest, Blaze.
The big night wasn't until the Friday after next. That's when a big convention comes to town, and David, Infrared's owner, and Edy's on-off boyfriend, anticipated profits through the roof. There would be many of Infrared's out-of-town regulars plus a few talent scouts in search of the next Hollywood sex symbol. Edy hoped this night would finally mean that big break of which she so longingly dreamed.
After hastily yet neatly hanging the treasured dress in the closet, Edy quickly dressed then made a phone call.
"Hello, Aunt May? It's Edy...Yes, I'm fine...No, I haven't forgotten Hillary's wedding...But...Oh, Aunt May, you know I have a show that night..I know...I know...But you know I didn't plan it that way...Yes, I understand..."
Those calls always ended up like that: Edy would exchange a few pleasentries with her aunt, then the conversation would degenerate into an argument over Edy's "bad career choice". It wasn't Edy's dream to be an exotic dancer, but things happened, and Edy knew her original dreams of becoming a legitmate dancer and musician shattered during her fateful junior year at college.
As always, Edy tried to reason with her disapproving auntie that circumstances forced her to make those choices, but May couldn't be swayed.
The questions always repeated in Edy's ear: What happened to your music career? Why aren't you and Xavier together anymore? Why didn't you at least try to find something more respectable? You know you could've always come to me or your uncle for financial help. The questions and comments spilled from Aunt May's mouth in a sing-song.
After she ended her phone call, Edy looked about her well-appointed, tastefully decorated condo. At least, she thought, it's not as if I'm hooking or having wild orgies every night. I have money in the bank, own my own home, still keep practicing my music. I live a very ordinary life, very boring and non-eventful, so far removed from the glitz and glamor of Infrared.
Edith "Edy" Smith – AKA "Vivienne Va'Voom" – life was about to take a dramatic turn, and all because of a certain purchase. Poor Edy never suspected a thing, and when it happened, it turned her world upside down.
To Be Continued...To Chapter 2!
*My pen name