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Click hereRoxie worked the next night and had made tentative arrangements with two of her dancer friends to plan on accommodating Junior on Friday night. Then she gave me the good news/bad news part of the deal.
She had talked to the Night Manager on my behalf and had struck a sort of discounted pricing deal for the planned party on Friday night. The waitresses would see that Junior's drinks were extra strong (but not with top shelf brand booze) with even the option of dosing him with a Mickey Finn if we wanted it later. My drinks would be kept well watered, virtually just soda. This was the good news, but in return Roxie had to agree to a promotion to become "Stage Mom" and be Management's official interface with the dancers, and also become at least a 'backup' dancer herself, available to work the stage occasionally when needed, if there was a shortage of entertainers on any particular night. I wasn't happy about this, but things were already moving faster than I would have hoped.
When your life turns into scrambled eggs there is no point in complaining about a little extra spilt milk. Besides, there was always the chance that the disaster could turn somehow into an omelet.
I'd rather see her fuck strangers than that slug Junior. Maybe they could get the low life scum bag into a situation that they could extort him, take him for everything he has. Anything but having poor little Roxie fuck the scum bag asshole. Maybe they could accuse him of rape and get him sent to prison for it, and then someone worthy could run the company.