Chapter Nine

I am a gambling man and probably always have been. While I have only been a punter, in the conventional sense, for the past decade, it has become increasingly apparent to me that virtually my whole life has been left to chance.

I have always stared death in the eye while completely disregarding life’s consequences - an outlook that has ultimately proved my undoing.

I first crossed paths with my punting destiny in 2013, when Adam Scott became the first Australian golfer to solve the Augusta mystery. Scott’s final round performance is all a bit of a blur now - I can’t even tell you who his playing partner was on that Masters Sunday.

Did the tournament even finish on Sunday? Probably, but I couldn’t tell you that for sure.

But I vividly remember calling my workplace crush, Genevieve Harris, in the middle of the night and insisting she turn on the tube, without any regard for her boyfriend or the possibility I was disrupting a special aspect of their relationship.

It felt like a gamble worth taking. As far as I was concerned, Genevieve and I shared a special bond, and that bond was gambling.

Punters in Arms!

It is actually amusing when I think about it, because I have picked up some of my worst habits from women, sometimes because of them.

I took up drinking to try to impress Stacy Jantjies, who consumed copious amounts of the stuff - and I started drinking even harder when I realized my love for her was unrequited.

And now I took up gambling to try impress Genevieve, whose sports knowledge was far more extensive than anything I could hope to acquire in a lifetime.

My obsession with Genevieve (who came second) also confirmed to me that I definitely had a type. She, like Stacy, had a passion for sport that genuinely captured my imagination, and through the tote, I had hoped to capture Genevieve’s imagination.

Genevieve was the perfect woman, and I wanted to be in her orbit, despite my possessing the looks of a low-grade bank clerk and the personality of a damp rag.

Surely Genevieve could overlook these glaring flaws? As it turns out, looks and personality were the least of my flaws in the end.

My fondest memories of Genevieve were the trips we took home in her car after work, where she often regaled me with tales of her youth. The more she told me, the more I adored her, and the gems kept rolling off her tongue, too.

“Wolf, did I ever tell you I once played against Matthew Ebden?”

Matthew Ebden was a South African-born Australian tennis player. Talk about name dropping. I was in bewildered awe.

“True story. And get this, I actually beat him too,” she continued.

“No ways.”

“It’s true, But I think I was three years older than him, so it doesn’t really count.”

“You beat him fair and square, Gen. Don’t sell yourself short.”

“Well, he made it as a pro, while I am stuck working out the penthouse of some warehouse building, not quite at the waterfront.”

“He became a pro because of you, Gen. He should be sending you a thank you note. And here I was about to boast about playing against, and almost beating David North once.”

“Oh really, where did you play against David North?”

“Kershaw Park, when you enter Pietermaritzburg…”

“I know where Kershaw Park is.”

“We were on the main court too. My doubles partner and I were actually the No. 3 and 4 players for our district team that year. Our No. 1 and 2 players were Peter Grant and a guy called David Marsh.”

There was a lot of casual name dropping going on now. Suffice to say Peter Grant’s name caught Genevieve’s attention. Playing tennis against Kevin Anderson’s current hitting partner suddenly seemed like an insignificant detail. In South Africa, a Springboks rugby player will always be more significant than the number one ranked tennis player in the country…and his less known hitting partner.

“Peter Grant? Unreal Wolf!”

“I have my moments. So, Pete and Dave were supposed to be playing North and a guy called Dylan Thompson, who I think was actually the number one ranked junior in the country at the time, ahead of North.”

“But it turns out Pete and Dave had to attend U13 Craven Week trials at Woodburn Stadium that same week, and wasting more time on the tennis just wasn’t worth it for them.”

Genevieve burst out laughing, at what was actually a pretty lame joke. Could a woman be more lovable?

“So, Andy and I (who were both a year younger than the rest) had to slot in for school and district. Now apparently Pete and Dave had caught everybody’s attention the day before, putting South Coast tennis on the map and such.”

“So everybody wanted to see what these South Coast boys were about, little did they know that we were merely the second string, about to take on the might of North and Thompson. The whole thing had the makings of a slaughter.”

“Save me all the color, Wolf. Did you win or lose?”

“Dude, we took them to a deciding tie-breaker, and we even had a match point, which I squandered. I will never forget it, I got a sitter of a volley and put it straight into the net. The gasps in the stands just made me sick. Andy never spoke to me for a week because he had some kind of rivalry going with North. I think they had met a couple times in one of those TSA junior events. Clearly no love lost there.”

It was little moments like these that sold me dreams about Genevieve.

When I reflect on it now, I think it was actually a little strange that Genevieve wasn’t watching the golf when I called her on that Masters Sunday. After all, she was the one who had encouraged me to place a bet on the golf for the weekend and offered to place that bet on my behalf using her gambling account.

I had a good feeling about Adam Scott ahead of that Masters campaign, especially after the heartbreak of his Open Championship experience at Muirfield the year before.

I thought his putting was solid, and I remain convinced to this day that Australians are just built differently anyway. They thrive in the face of adversity, and as far as I was concerned, Scott was no different. At the time, it felt like nobody else believed me and putting my money where my mouth was felt like a glorious way to elevate my standing with Genevieve.

I was hooked on gambling because I felt like it bound me together with Genevieve - we had won this Adam Scott bet together - and not because of the financial return on my investment

Chapter 10

After seven months Genevieve left for the United States, putting an end to something that was never actually real in the first place. Whatever I had going with Genevieve was merely a figment of my imagination.

So, without giving it too much consideration I decided it was time for my Majestique return, where I could entertain real life fantasies again. I also figured Megan might be back by now, but she wasn’t.

In her absence, I scanned the room for compelling alternatives, and spotted a slender woman standing alone in one of the corners. Something about her seemed familiar but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. She wasn’t facing me either, so that didn’t help.

I let my eyes wonder once again, just to conduct my own roll call, and recognized everybody else there, which was a bit bizarre, and so I zoned back in on the slender woman in the corner. Only, she wasn’t there anymore. She must have slipped out while I was browsing the room.

My mind started to wonder a little, thinking first about Megan, then Angelique, and even about Lisa. The only working girls who knew how to tie me down, sometimes literally.

Megan wasn’t here, probably still busy with some mothering, and Lisa was 1000 km away. That left Angelique, but I just didn’t feel like digging that deep into my pockets again.

So, I was resigned to just sitting back and taking in everything that wasn’t majestic about Majestique. And just as I thought it, out went the lights for a routine I had never seen at Majestique before. This was new, the song was new. I was alert again.

Bursting onto the stage was the new girl, whose face I caught a clear glimpse of this time.

“No ways.” I said thinking out loud. Not that it mattered with the Majestique speakers on full tilt. Sky had lost a dramatic amount of weight and her face was a little thinner than I remembered it, but it was definitely her.

The dance routine was quite spectacular, and I was captivated by it. I immediately reached into my pockets, grabbed a wad of cash (without even counting it) and chucked it at Sky, in a manner about as dramatic as the routine itself.

Territory marked!

Every man in that place looked at me like I was mad, while all the girls suddenly looked a little forlorn. I had set a cat amongst the pigeons again.

I don’t know if Sky had planned to leave the main stage for her routine that night, but at this point I didn’t even think it mattered. She was on top of my table like a shot, with just her knickers on. The instructions were clear enough, and I gratefully obliged. Standing up, I sunk my teeth into her red knickers and started pulling them down.

Lowering herself just a touch, and pulling my head just a smidgen, Sky then grabbed the back of my head and shoved it into her triangle in dramatic fashion. Her body reacted as my tongue got to work, and we were doing this in front of everybody. It was a little unseemly, but when you are in the moment, there is nothing that will stop you.

I was only down on her for about sixty seconds, but it felt like I had died and woken up in heaven. It was arguably the best sixty seconds of my life! And just as swiftly as she arrived, Sky was gone again, back on the stage.

Every so often, Sky shot a glance at me, and every time her eyes met with mine. My head didn't budge for the remainder of that routine. I was genuinely mesmerized!

Sky left the stage and disappeared through the first of two doors leading to the private rooms at Majestique. This particular door was only used by dancers once they had completed their stage routines, when they invariably went for a quick shower and a fresh set of clothes, invariably lingerie.

The second door could be accessed by dancers and guests, but only once a booking had been made at the front desk. From the outside, it required an access code, usually punched in by one of the heavies or the secretarial staff at Majestique.

However, it could also be opened from the inside, when men or clients had completed their private sessions. 

This door was outside the main venue and was passed en route to the Majestique bathrooms. When Sky completed her routine, I decided to make a quick trip to the bathroom, with the view to returning before she was done with a shower and change.

I was pretty certain she would shower me with attention once she was done, and I didn’t want to keep her waiting or leave her wondering why I just vanished after sharing all that chemistry during the routine.

On the way to the bathroom, I noticed the second door was slightly ajar, but thought nothing of it. It was probably just another satisfied client leaving, none of my business.

Then out of the blue I felt a soft but assertive hand grasp my arm, and before I could even consider what was happening, I was inside the door and pegged against the wall. The person pegging me against the wall was Sky.

Sky had long black hair and dark, liquid eyes, but what drew me to her was her honey-brown body. Sure, colored women have numerous redeeming features and qualities, but their unique complexion has always been a major part of the allure for me.

“Come, we can’t stay in the open like this.”

I followed her to the room at the furthest end of the corridor. I had never been this far down the back rooms at Majestique before. It was certainly uncharted territory for me, but this development actually felt a little more significant than that.

Yes, the element of risk made the adventure all the more exciting for both of us, but I also detected that Sky was in a manner of speaking taking me into her confidence, making me feel wanted. Making me feel loved.

“What if we get caught?” I asked.

“We won’t.”

I was a little surprised by the room Sky had taken me into. Apart from never being in there before, the room was staggeringly clean, functional, and regulated, all things that no person could reasonably be expected to associate with Majestique.

There was a bathroom with soap and a pile of towels, a cupboard with clean bed linen, and even a double bed.

“What room is this?” I enquired, without really expecting a meaningful response.

“Megan never brought you here?”

“Nope.”

“Interesting.”

That “interesting” was loaded with all sorts of innuendo, but before I could make a genuine attempt to decode it, Sky pushed me backwards onto the bed. Bucking and clawing she worked herself into a froth of excitement.

I responded, shyly at first, but by the end of it I had worked up a massive sweat of my own. But beyond the purely physical, I felt like a bond had already developed between us, and I think Sky felt it too.

Once we were done with our first session the strangest thing happened, we started engaging in a little pillow talk. I had never really been down this road before, and wasn’t sure how to handle it.

“You know, I have actually seen you before.” I said, not really knowing how one goes about this type of conversation.

“I know. I have seen you too.”

“Really, where?”

“Here…when Megan was still around. Then you disappeared like a flash, the moment Megan left. Everybody thought she broke your heart or something.”

“Everybody?”

“Dude, you are all the girls talk about here. How do you not know this?”

“I’m not Sherlock Holmes. I wasn’t talking about Majestique though…”

“The Cage?” 

“Dis Korek, ja. I spotted you there a couple years ago. You looked a little different then.”

“Why did you never say hello?”

“This was all still pretty new to me. Wasn’t sure what the protocol was. In all honesty, I am still a little unsure. Every time I enter a house of ill-repute, I just wing it and hope for the best. Turns out you are the best indeed.”

“What actually happened to The Cage?” I asked.

“They shut it down mos. Something snaaks about the owner.”

“I was about to say, that place certainly didn’t have a problem with foot traffic. I don’t think I ever found an available seat when I visited.”

“Ja, The Cage had a total vibe. I miss it. But I actually left before they shut it down.”

“Why?”

“My boyfriend wanted me to stop. We still had big family plans back then, and I was getting ready to be a good wife and mother to his children. In the end none of that happened.”

“Why did you come back?” 

“I needed the work. I am sure you have noticed how much weight I have lost. That’s what you meant by a little different. It is funny, everybody just assumes that leaving a job like this will lead to a better life, yet the grass is seldom greener on the other side."

"My boyfriend was abusive; I couldn’t find honest work. I was becoming a drain on my family. That kind of stress gets to a person, you know?”

“So, you have been happy since your return to the industry?”

“It hasn’t been perfect. But I really enjoyed tonight. I like you a lot. I think we had an instant connection tonight.”

“You sure it had nothing to do with all the banknotes I chucked your way?”

“Men in this place don’t just chuck cash at us. I figured there was something about me that you really liked, and I decided there might be something about you that I would really like. I have no regrets. Listen, we can only go one more round without getting caught. But once we are done, please don’t leave.”

After another thirty minutes of pure unbridled ecstasy, I showered and said my goodbyes. As I exited the Majestique backrooms, I passed two of the girls down the corridors. One of them was Natalie, Sky’s sister.

Sod it, I thought to myself. If they rat on us, they rat. There are other places in town.

As it happens, I acquiesced to Sky’s request and didn’t leave Majestique that night. I watched her dance three more times, and in between dances she sat at my table. It was cozy and comforting, for both of us. It felt a bit like a date.

I sent her flowers the next morning, without leaving a note. While I thought a little mystery wouldn’t hurt, it was also a minor test.

Chapter 11

I returned to Majestique the next day, and sat at my usual table. In my mind, it already had my name on it, 'Wolf's Table - Steer clear'.

Sky wasn’t in the main hall, and for all I knew she wasn’t even at work, even though she said she would be. And just as I was doing all the calculations in my head, a familiar warmth just snuck up on me.

“Hey stranger, thanks for the flowers. They were beautiful.” Sky sat down right beside me, thigh pressed against mine, and grabbed my left hand. She followed that up with an unexpected kiss to the lips. The whole thing felt highly irregular, even by Majestique standards.

“What flowers?” I asked.

“Don’t take me for a poes. There was only ever one person who could have sent those flowers to me.” The test was passed with flying colors....