Iron Rods: 1 (Strip Club) by Brenna Zinn

Author:Brenna Zinn [Zinn, Brenna]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2014-06-04T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

“Hello! Anyone home in there?”

Tatum started at the sound of her roommate’s voice. How long had she been daydreaming? She looked through the windshield of Heather’s car. On her right, the Austin Motel sign that resembled an erect penis protruded from the side of the hotel. Farther up on her left was the granddaddy of live music in Austin, the Continental Club.

South Congress. They were already heading down South Congress Avenue and driving toward the darkening rain clouds coming in from the southeast. They’d passed the last landmark she was cognizant of several blocks before on Barton Springs Road. Her brain had been off in la-la land for several minutes. Not good. Not good at all.

Tatum shook away her lustful meandering thoughts and turned from the passing scenery to face Heather. “I’m sorry. What were you saying?”

“I was asking about how y’all found the general contractor to renovate the club.” Heather glanced at her rearview mirror, then signaled to pass a car backing into an empty stall in front of Jo’s Coffee. “Is he someone y’all know?”

“Ah, no. I mean, I don’t know him personally.” Focus. She had to find her focus. Get her mind off Bennett and center her attention on the renovation plans she and Heather needed to review with the contractor. “He’s someone Lyle Bennett knows. Some man named Dan. Dan Camden, I think.”

“Never heard of him.”

“Me neither. Lyle said he used to work with Dan back in the eighties when they were both strippers. They lost track of each other when Dan suddenly took off after a bad breakup. I guess Dan moved back to town and reconnected with Lyle a few months ago.”

“Your guy went from stripping to construction?” Heather slowed down for a pedicab driver struggling to haul a young couple up South Congress hill. The strong wind blowing in didn’t help the poor man’s sluggish progress.

“From what Lyle tells me, Dan worked construction while he danced at Iron Rods.” Tatum glanced at the block that used to be home to several food trailers and frowned at the hotel that had taken their place. Like many of the unusual businesses on this wonderful street, the trailers had once helped keep Austin weird. They were gone now, as was their great food and the quirky dining experience enjoyed by so many who visited the area. If Bennett had his way, Iron Rods, another Austin landmark, would be a thing of the past too.

“Most of the strippers have full-time jobs outside the club,” Tatum said. “Lyle worked construction too until he became the manager for Iron Rods. Sometime after that he made his fortune and started the holdings company, leaving the management of the club to a crazy cooter named Cotton.”

“And the rest is history. The history you get to write,” Heather said in her happy singsong voice, her big hazel eyes dancing.

Too bad Austin didn’t have a professional football or basketball team. Her perky roommate would make a great addition to any cheerleading squad.

“With some help from my friends, especially you.

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