I feel Maxim get close, and his hand rests on my lower back as a light comes on down to the right of us. The lack of clothing makes it clear that this is a strip club, but it’s unlike any club I have ever seen in my life. Each bathroom has a different vibe, each one with a woman putting on a show for the men seated on couches like the one in this office, while waitresses dressed in very skimpy robes or nighties walk around with trays of drinks. One is a clear glass shower with white tile, another a glass claw-footed tub with antique-looking tiles on the floor. Around the entire perimeter of the room are different style bathrooms. When I reach the glass, I look out to the club below and bite my lip. Walking to the table in the kitchen area, I set down my bag next to a stack of unopened mail and boxes, then make my way to the window, curious about the blue glow that seems to be the same color as the billboard sign outside the club.
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