It didn’t matter right now, she reminded herself, took out a bottle of water, and handed the other to Lincoln.
“Thanks.” He said and leaned over to kiss her just to the side of her lips.
“Thank you, Lincoln.” Words she never dreamed she’d say, but here she was, naked in bed with him. “Shower?”
“In a minute. I need to just look at you, if that’s alright?” He stroked her cheek and she smiled before she looked down at her unopened bottle.
“You’re so weird, Lincoln.” She laughed and took a drink finally.
“You’re weirder, weirdo.” He replied but took the sting out of it with a kiss. “You sure about that shower?”
“I was...” She started but he pulled her down for a kiss that stole her plans away.
She laughed as he pulled her over his body, until she sank down onto him and their eyes locked together, warm brown against ice blue. Oh my, she thought, lost in his eyes.
“I like your weird, Chloe.” He whispered, and she tilted her head with a smile of her own.
“I like yours too.” She mimicked him with a smirk that matched his.
“Good. We’re getting somewhere.” His hands clamped around her tight ass and rocked her against the very hard proof of how much he wanted her.
“Again, so soon?”
“Oh yes. I have a feeling I’ll be walking around like this for a long time.” He laughed ruefully, shaking his head. “You’ve got me all fucked up, Chlo.”
“Hmm. Good.” She answered impishly, delighted with her effect on him.
By the time they made it to the shower an hour later, she knew a lot more about sex, about pleasure, and what Lincoln Young had to offer. He showed her again in the shower, their faces drowning in water that sprayed over them, but neither cared. It wasn’t a time to worry about being able to breathe. It was about pleasure and forgetting the waves of fire and roiling smoke they’d both seen in the sky above what used to be Chloe’s home.
Tomorrow would come soon enough, and with it the cold dawn that wouldn’t let her escape her new reality. For now, there was only Lincoln and Chloe and that was the way it had to be.
6
Present Day
Myrtle Beach, South Carolina
Roxie stared at the ashes of what had once been a thriving business called Elmo’s and tried not to let memories intrude into the present. So many years had passed since that last fire, since the world as she’d known it ended. Out of those long-cold ashes, a new girl had come alive, one with a different name, one with different hopes and dreams. What would she become now, she wondered? Who would she be this time, when the ashes blew away and the remains of incinerated timbers and steel beams were taken away to a landfill?
A memory tugged at her mind, that night so long ago, that last fire, something she hadn’t thought about in a long time. A memory of a light-filled room and the sound of two young girls, giggling with delight as they practiced steps that weren’t so complicated, not after a year of practice. That was when her name was Chloe, Lolly to some. When she was innocent and waiting for the life her mommy said was her due as an Abshire.
Roxie looked down at the note in her hand, decades-old words scrawled across a page of notebook paper. On the table in her kitchen was the lip balm Liam had bought for her, as sweet and innocent as her memories of him, even after ten years. That’s probably the last trace of her old self in that case, she thought with tired eyes. She brushed hair out of her face, her hands still besmirched with the soot and ashes from what used to be Elmo’s after her visit to see what was left of the place earlier that morning.
Her gaze went back to the note. Promises of kisses in the dark, on midnight streets, and things that never happened because she left Lincoln the next day. She left Liam as well and never looked back. She couldn’t, her life was in danger back then and still was now, if anyone ever found out who she really was.
Her phone buzzed and she picked it up when she saw a WhatsApp message from her best friend, Emily.
Hey, Chanel have brought out their new line and I’m having someone bring it over to see what I want. See you at my mom’s in an hour?
I love Emily, she thought as she closed her eyes, exhausted beyond belief, but fuck, she was so sick of rich people and the lifestyle they lived.
1
Roxie
One Year After the Fire at Elmo’s
Roxie Simpson, once known as Chloe Abshire, stared into the mirror behind the makeup table and wondered if she was ever that carefree girl she remembered herself as being 10 years ago. Maybe she’d never been an innocent girl who only dreamed of ballet and a handsome boy to kiss filling her head. A million years, a stint at being homeless, and a thousand kisses had passed since those days, if they were ever real at all.
She looked over at Caroline, Emily Thompson-James’ daughter and one of the joys of Roxie’s life. The baby was a little over three months old and full of giggles and smiles today. “You’re sure you’re good with her while I perform?”
“I’m fine, honey, don’t worry.” Kitty, whose real name was Elizabeth Rodriguez but never used that as she preferred her stage name, looked over at Caroline’s playpen with a fond smile and then over at River, the other woman in the room. “I’m a single parent, remember?”
Roxie looked at her former protegees from Elmo’s with a smile. The club where they all used to perform as exotic dancers burned down the year before. It was the second life-changing fire of Roxie’s life.
The club had private rooms that could be reserved for clients the ladies called protectors, so long as the clients signed the special contracts the women had the final say in. When the place burned down all of the employees were forced to find new roles to feed and clothe themselves. Kitty, a beautiful 25-year-old of mixed Malaysian, Native American, and Russian heritage was an exotic wonder who had made a lot of money for Elmo’s before it burned down. She didn’t have a protector, unlike River, to get her through the dark days and had joined Roxie as she went freelance and did private gigs for rich people like the Thompsons. River, red-haired with light brown eyes that were almost amber, was under the protection of a married couple who loved swinging. That life suited River but she still came along with Roxie as an extra set of hands when she was needed.
And tonight, she needed all the hands she could get.
River got up to take Roxie’s outfit out of the bag, a black diaphanous peignoir that would cover up the leather bustier and shorts that Roxie would perform in. Pole dancing wasn’t just about being obvious, it was about glamorizing the assets you had, or had bought in Roxie’s case, she thought as Roxie put on the bustier River handed her.
“I can’t believe we’re at the Thompson gala,” Kitty said, even though the baby they were all taking turns watching was half Thompson, Emily’s half to be exact.
“Emily got them to hire me as a favor, it’s just a shame she’s missing it for her honeymoon,” Roxie answered, thinking about her friend on vacation in Iceland. That wouldn’t have been her choice for a honeymoon, but Emily was always a little out there, which was one of the reasons Roxie loved her so much. She didn’t always like how Emily forgot that Roxie wasn’t as wealthy as her, but still, Roxie adored her friend.
“It’s almost time.” River warned as Roxie put on the sky-high heeled black leather boots that came up to her mid-thigh.
“Right. Wish me luck, girls.” Roxie tossed a smile over her shoulder at the other ladies, both in their mid-20s, and made sure her black hair was still tied up in the tight ponytail she’d put it in. Her hair was naturally blonde, but she’d felt the need to hide from the world since that unexplained fire at Elmo’s, as if her past had caught up with her at last, and so she’d dyed it black.
A year had gone by and there was still no explanation for what had happened, exactly. There’d been no fatalities, thank goodness, but there were no answers and that bothered her. After her parents’ death in a fire ten years ago, when she was an 18 year old innocent, a
n apparent suicide brought on by her father’s bad business decisions according to the police and the media, Roxie had changed. She’d gone from an innocent girl, wrapped up in bubble wrap to protect her from the world, to a cynic with hard eyes and a face wreathed in disillusionment. She hid all of that on stage, truly became Roxie on stage.
That transformation from innocent to vixen had terrified her back when she started as a pole dancer, but then everything had terrified her. She’d watched some YouTube videos once she made it to Myrtle Beach from her home in New York and figured she could translate her ballet skills into this new form of dance. Well, it was a form of dance new to her.
She waltzed out onto the stage as Two Feet began to sing about how he felt like he was drowning, staring out at the audience who gaped at her through the haze made by the smoke machine. Overhead lights changed from dim golden to bright white when she launched herself at the pole affixed to the stage just for her. This was a charity event held by the Thompson family and they were spicing things up a little this year.
Roxie started to climb the pole as the lights dimmed to a pale shade of blue, pulling herself up with strong biceps in smooth motions. She couldn’t see most of the audience, but a face appeared at the front. A vaguely familiar face, but she tuned it out to let her torso fall back so she could wind sinuously down the pole. She’d seen thousands of faces since that day so long ago when she walked into a strip joint, claiming to be sixteen so the owner would let her work under the table for cash.
That was back before she’d had the money, and know-how, to get herself fake papers to hide behind. Everything had changed the night her parents died, and she’d been afraid that she’d be the next victim of the mob that was after her parents. She still didn’t know if their suicides were real or if those mafia men had anything to do with it, but either way, it was her dad’s fault for getting involved and she carried a lot of anger at her parents over what happened.
They’d left her when she needed them most, left a teenage, sheltered girl to fend for herself. She’d spent the last ten years in hiding because of them and so she’d spent her early adult years pretending to be two years younger than she was, even with her best friend. Not June Bennet, the girl she’d shared most of her teenage secrets with, but Emily Thompson, who’d joined her in the dark world of protectors and pole dancing to get away from her family.
No, Roxie thought as she made her way back up the pole, there were a lot of things she kept from Emily, but she had to. Her life dictated that for her.
Roxie moved back down the pole in a dramatic drop and crawled across the stage in a sensual display of subservience, playing her part by rote, not by heart as she usually did. It wouldn’t be obvious to the audience, but Roxie knew she wouldn’t feel that release, that sense of freedom, she usually got after she performed. When her eyes locked on a pair of brown eyes in the audience, a pair of eyes she hadn’t seen in over ten years, Roxie’s heart jerked to a halt.
It couldn’t be, she thought and stared at the man with a face she could never forget. The face of a man that had barely aged in ten years, that was still as familiar as the night she’d kissed him with so much innocent need. He didn’t seem to recognize her, she realized as she backed away, grabbed the peignoir, and headed off the stage to a massive round of applause. The audience wanted her back, but Lincoln Young was in that audience, even an offer of a million dollars wouldn’t get her back on that stage.
“Holy fucking moly, that was Link.” She whispered as she made it back to the dressing room. The girls looked up at her, probably expecting to see a triumphant smile. Instead, they saw panic as she barked at them; “It’s time to go.”
She’d planned to cruise the audience, shake hands and smile politely, but not now. Her biggest secret of all had to do with that man and she wasn’t ready to tell that one, so it was time to pack up and head back home.
Not that it was any better at home. What had started out as a love match had changed since the night of the fire at Elmo’s, a fire that had left her with even more nightmare material and fueled her fear of it. Nathan had been the perfect match for her when she split with Freddie, fun to be around, always smiling, and able to handle the mess that she was. Since that night, however, he’d changed.
He used to save money, have a job, and refused anything but the weakest of alcoholic drinks. Now he had a gambling problem and she was fairly certain he’d added cocaine to his nightly bourbon sessions. He was getting really aggressive and she’d have kicked him out already if she didn’t care about him. She couldn’t explain it, what had changed him, broken him that night, and he wouldn’t talk about it so she didn’t know how to fix it.
“Let’s pack up and get out of here, ladies.” She pronounced when she’d closed the door to the dressing room and locked it. “I need to get Caroline home.”
“Sure thing.” River said immediately, always eager to be around Roxie but even more eager to get back home to her married couple.
“I’ll get Caroline in her car seat,” Kitty answered and lifted the baby out of the playpen.
Roxie changed clothes as quickly as she could, which meant she simply threw a cropped t-shirt on over her bustier and packed the gauzy robe into a bag. She threw makeup and a hair straightener into the same bag, folded up Caroline’s playpen, left River to pick up that and Caroline’s diaper bag, and pulled her car keys out of her handbag. “Ready?”
“Yep, let’s go,” Kitty answered and River nodded.
The money for her performance was already in her bag so Roxie had no qualms about leaving without saying goodbye. She’d explain to Emily’s brother, Trent, later but for now, she needed to get out in case the handsome memory that had come back to life before her eyes figured out who she actually was.
She and the girls rushed out, with Caroline tucked safely into her seat, and made their way to the SUV Roxie only drove to performances. River got Caroline locked in quickly and Roxie put the SUV into drive.
She didn’t say a word as they left the parking lot of the Thompson hotel, she just checked her rearview mirror. She told herself she always checked to make sure nobody was following her, but she knew it was a lie. She’d forget sometimes, fall into a false sense of security, at least until something reminded her that she needed to keep an eye out. Lincoln Young, June Bennet’s half-brother and the first guy Roxie ever slept with, was her most recent reminder, and Roxie planned to listen.
She dropped Kitty and River off before she headed back to her tiny apartment over the Lemon Fresh dry cleaners where she’d lived for the last few years. It wasn’t the palace that Emily and Dylan lived in, but it suited her needs. The owners took cash, provided great security, and left her alone. Plus, Wendy was always there when she needed a friend. Tonight she’d obviously waited for Roxie to get back - something she did when she knew Roxie had a gig - and came out to help her bring in her bags and assist with Caroline. The baby was asleep, content with the world, so Wendy made a point of whispering.
“How did it go?” She asked as she hauled Caroline’s playpen out of the back of Roxie’s car.
“Fine, I decided since I had this little one that I’d get back home earlier than I normally would.” Caroline didn’t even blow cute little spit bubbles as Roxie got her out of the car.
“He’s not home,” Wendy said softly, following Roxie’s gaze.
He was Nathan, Roxie’s boyfriend. He’d taken off a few days ago when some cops showed up after Emily and Dylan’s wedding and hadn’t come back. Roxie nodded sadly but didn’t say anything. The man had changed since that night at Elmo’s, from the promising young man that gave her hope for love again into an utter ball sack. Roxie wasn’t sure how the two equated, but she knew there must be a link. It was probably best he wasn’t home, he’d just make it miserable to spend time with Caroline and they hadn’t had sex in months anyway. Did she really need him around?
Especially when he was out of money and couldn’t pay for his own needs, so she had to carry his
load too. Asshole.
“Good. Shall we order a pizza and watch Netflix?”
“Sounds good.” Wendy’s broad smile made her round face suddenly beautiful. Wendy’s parents had moved to the US from India to fulfill their idea of the American dream and so far, they seemed to be prospering. Wendy downplayed her parents’ wealth, but she embraced her Indian heritage whenever she got the opportunity. She spoke Hindi and English with aplomb, looked good in a sari when she got the occasion to wear one, and the fact that she was endowed around the hips made her more appealing, even if she didn’t seem to think so.
“How’s your mom and dad?” Roxie asked as she went in the front door, flipped the light, and walked into her home. Many people wouldn’t call it a home because the kitchen wasn’t furnished and there were so few electronics that it looked like something out of a picture from the 1920s. Roxie wasn’t big on electricity or anything else that might cause a spark. She had her phone, but she usually charged that while she was working or in the car. The only time she really used electricity was if she needed to charge her phone at night and she’d wake up to unplug it, so it wouldn’t overheat or whatever phones might do if you left them plugged in.
“They’re fine,” Wendy said before she put the playpen and bags down. “I’ll run down and get my laptop and come back up. You want to order that pizza?”
“Sure.” Roxie smiled and watched her friend disappear down the stairs that led up to her apartment. They kept them all fit, those stairs, she thought with a smile.
Roxie set up Caroline’s playpen and put her down in it after she ordered the pizza. Once Caroline was down Roxie went over to check to make sure the only real appliance she had was turned off. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the coffee pot was unplugged from the wall. She patted the cord before she left the small kitchen space, so she’d remember that it was disconnected this time.
Dancing With Lies (Barre To Bar Book 1) Page 4
