NOON PULLED INTO THE STRIP CLUB A LITTLE AFTER NINE THAT night. More like a roadhouse. A small neon sign out front: EXOTIC DANCERS. ALL NUDE. Noon parked the Fairlane and sat watching the place with the engine running. It was a Friday night and the parking lot was full. It was a concrete building that was painted black. You could tell it had held some other kind of reputable commerce in another life but now it was the French Maid Gentleman’s Club. All the windows had been bricked over.
When Noon finally went in, a bouncer nodded at him without asking for ID. The music was loud. Hair metal rock and roll. There was a runway stage with a pole and two women were dancing topless with folded ones and fives stuffed in their G-strings. The seats below the stage were full and the men were packed in like tinned fish.
Noon went to the bar and ordered a Coke. He stood with his back to the bar and watched the audience. The lights were flashing an array of colors. There was a mirror ball twirling. A DJ in the corner would announce the next girl and she’d strut out and turn and smile and the men would jeer and wave dollar bills like ranchers at an auction house.
Two men caught Noon’s eye. Sitting a few rows back from the stage. They’d stand and cheer but the girls paid them no attention. Noon sipped his Coke like it was wine. These two men seemed overly eager and by their gestures and expressions one could tell they felt they were being dealt a great injustice by being ignored. One had a perm-like haircut and the other wore his long and with a ball cap on the top of his head like a trucker. Both were a little overweight.
Noon watched them for the better part of half an hour. They were going to be perfect. Noon was turning to order another Coke when a hand touched his arm.
You looking for a date tonight, baby?
It was a dancer wearing a fishnet shirt that stopped just below her breasts. She was wearing a black G-string and had a huge head of blond hair.
A what? Noon asked.
You looking for a date? A little fun?
I’m having fun right now.
Want to have a little more fun?
What kind of fun would that be?
She leaned in and whispered into his ear.
I’m not sure you’re my type, Noon said.
And how’s that?
You’re a little too . . . what’s the word. Lively.
Lively.
Yes.
Want me to play dead? she said. Is that it? I’ll play dead.
Noon sipped the Coke. He cocked his head oddly. He said: If I gave you five hundred dollars, would you go down to that table there and ask those two men a question for me?
What kind of question?
Just a question I’ve been wanting to ask them.
Let’s see the money.
Don’t you want to know the question first?
Sure, she said. What’s the question?
The question is: Would they have sex with you and my girlfriend while I videotape it?
You want me to fuck them in front of you?
And my girlfriend.
Who’s your girlfriend?
Why does that matter?
The woman leaned against the bar.
You some kind of sicko? she asked. She smiled at him.
No, Noon said. No more than anyone else in here.
Noon reached out and touched the bend at her shoulder.
You have very beautiful skin, he said. Has anyone ever told you that? It would look incredible on camera. My girlfriend would love it. She has a thing for older blonds.
I’m only twenty-five.
Yes, Noon said. How about this? Five hundred for the question. Another seven for the rest?
Twelve hundred?
If my math is right, yes. Twelve hundred just for being your charming self.
Noon reached into his pocket and showed her the money. She glanced down at it and then took the money and walked down to the men behind the stage and leaned and asked the question. Noon watched them balk in disbelief. The woman flashed her breasts as an incentive and then she turned and pointed up toward Noon. Both men squinted against the flashing lights at the dark silhouette at the bar.
A couple minutes later they were all seated at a table in the corner going over Noon’s proposition.
What do you mean you want to film it? one said.
It’s very simple, Noon said. I want to set up a camera and I want to film you having sex with this woman and my girlfriend.
Like a foursome?
There would be four of you. So yes. You are good at math.
What would you be doing? the other said.
I’ve told you that already.
So they ain’t going to fuck you?
No, Noon said. I don’t know how I can explain this any easier.
He turned to the stripper. He said: Do you find this woman attractive?
Well, hell yeah.
Have you ever had sex with someone as attractive as her?
They were both silent. Just staring at her.
That means no, Noon said. I’m offering you a very rare opportunity.
You some kind of pornographer?
Do you like pornography? Noon asked.
We have cocks, the other said. Don’t we?
I don’t know, Noon said. I have never seen you with your pants off.
The one looked at the other. Frowned a little.
And she’s cool with it? he asked.
Cool with what?
Your girlfriend. She’s okay with all this?
What kind of person do you think I am? Noon said. Everyone has a choice in this world.
Well, bud? The one looked at the other. What do you think? Could be fun.
How much you say again? he asked Noon.
A thousand.
A grand?
Yes.
Each?
How about this? Noon said.
He took the money clip from his pocket and pulled several hundred dollars from it and laid the money on the table.
That’s half, Noon said. Earnest money.
What kind of money?
A good faith gesture, Noon said. Go on. Take it.
They hesitated. One scratched his chin. The other licked his lips. The stripper twirled a strand of hair around and around her finger.
We can have that now? the one said.
Of course, Noon said.
This don’t seem real, the other said.
It’s real, Noon said. It’s very real. Nothing from here on out will ever be this real. Everything you do from this night on will all seem like a dream.
Well? the one said.
Giddy up, bud.
Noon smiled. He wrote down an address. He said: Meet me here in four hours. All three of you.
I can’t go with you? the woman said.
No, Noon said. It has to be this way.
He stood from the table.
Four hours, he said.