Romance in Vegas - Showgirl!

by Nancy Fornataro

  Romance in Vegas - Showgirl!

  Bright Lights, Steamy Nights

  By

  Nancy Fornataro

  ****

  Published by:

  Nancy Fornataro on Smashwords

  Copyright © 2012 by Nancy Fornataro

  Smashwords Edition, License Notes

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  This book is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters are productions of the author’s imagination and used fictitiously.

  Adult Reading Material

  *****

  Romance in Vegas - Showgirl!

  Prologue

  Teeny Cappra hated hospitals. Not just the smells, but the sounds. The moans and groans, the efficient swish of nurse's uniforms, but now what he really hated was the blip-blip sound he heard coming from Clarice's room.

  Today was the day. The doctor told him earlier. There was no hope.

  He sighed and heaved his enormous bulk off a rickety plastic hospital hallway chair. As consigliore it was his duty to talk to Al.

  Trying to delay the confrontation as long as possible, he stood in the hallway and thought fondly of Clarice. Woman-child, innocent, trusting and disarmingly beautiful. Al met her in Sheridan, through a friend, and married her almost immediately. The two were blissfully happy for three years until the breast cancer diagnosis.

  Clarice went through all the treatments cheerfully and had even joked with Teeny about her bald head being like his. It was as if she didn't know what was coming. So like her, he thought.

  Teeny steeled himself and slowly walked in the room. Al sat, where he'd been for weeks, silently holding her hand, absently stroking her palm. She looked alive, Teeny had to admit that. But the doctor told him there was no brain activity.

  "Boss--" he began.

  "How can she still be so beautiful?" Al asked him, "Even with all she's been through."

  The consigliore watched his boss and realized Al had lost weight, although he was still muscular in build. His jet-black hair was unruly now, and over his collar in length, which was unusual.

  Teeny thought Al had been neglecting himself for months, although he still had charm and charisma that attracted women like kids to a carnival. And his face still held a hard, handsome appeal.

  A nurse came in then, checked Clarice's monitors and gave Teeny a steely look before she left.

  He took a deep breath. "Boss, listen here. You know I love Clarice the same way I care for you and the family."

  Al didn't look up, but just stared at Clarice. "Yes, I know," he said softly.

  "Then you gotta listen, boss. We need to unhook all this stuff from her. Doctor says--"

  Al turned, giving him a ferocious look, which would have cowed a lesser man, "I'm tired of doctor says," he said bitterly. "If they'd caught it earlier, we wouldn't be in this mess."

  Teeny tried a different track, as his boss turned back to Clarice. "She wouldn't want this," he said simply, "and it ain't a mess boss. Doc says...I mean, she's dead, Al."

  Al's eyes met Teenys. It wasn't often his right hand man used his given name. "So, what would you do if you were in my place?"

  The consigliore had tears in his eyes, but he managed a gruff reply, "I'd pull the plug."

  Al sighed deeply, and let go of Clarice's hand after placing it on her chest. "There is really no hope, then?" It was more of a statement than a question.

  "No, boss. No hope."

  "You will send the doctor in. And I will say good-bye."

  A few minutes later, Al heard the doctor's name on an intercom page.

  He stood and looked down at Clarice. She looked so peaceful. No red hair, the chemo took it. But she had pink in her cheeks, and she was so lovely still, so angelic.

  He took her hand in both of his, and thought they must be wrong. For the hundredth time, he thought they were wrong.

  The doctor came in five minutes later. He nodded to Al and, after hesitating for seconds, quickly unhooked the bleeping machines and airway tube from Clarice.

  Silence in the room was deafening. She took one shaky wheeze, before her breathing stopped.

  Chapter 1

  Dani realized, once in front of Winner Takes All Casino, that she was down to her last ten dollars.

  Since Tommy left her high and dry in Vegas, absconding with the majority of their money as well as his lover Leigh, the woman with all the drugs, Dani had been working odd jobs but couldn't seem to find a permanent position. Or, even a proper place to stay for that matter.

  She used all casino restrooms to full advantage, washing and keeping herself clean. If she pretended to be a patron, she had full use of them.

  Actually, she liked Winner Takes All bathrooms the best. They were luxurious with sumptuous lounges where she could rest if need be. Plus their soaps smelled like lavender, and the attendant gave out real towels.

  Dani had befriended the portly daytime attendant, a brown haired girl named Nola.

  Today, Dani whirled in and threw her oversized carry bag on the chaise. "Anything new?"

  Nola laughed, showing the gap in her front teeth. "Nothing yet, sweetie. But don't worry, with my HR connections there's got to be something eventually."

  Dani sat and held her head. "I only have enough money for today, and possibly tomorrow. Maybe if I don't eat..."

  Nola tried to smooth and straighten her rumpled uniform, then she talked and cleaned sinks at the same time. "You figure you'll need to make at least ten bucks an hour. Then you might be able to get yourself a studio apartment."

  "Yes." The thought of her own place and eight hours of uninterrupted sleep sounded wonderful to Dani. "Say," she asked Nola, "do you mind if I get a few hours of sleep right now? I've been walking all over the place today job hunting."

  "I know what that's like," Nola said sympathetically. "Sure, sweetie. I'll tell Harriet to leave you alone. She's on shift in an hour just to let you know."

  Dani nodded tiredly, gathered up her bag, and fell fast asleep.

  Lefty Shultz sat sipping coffee and listening to Teeny in Winner Takes All Casino lounge.

  "I can't find him no girls, Lefty. I send up blondes, brown haired, black haired, even red haired but he don't want any of 'em."

  Nodding, Lefty replied, "Yeah. It's been a year. He should at least start datin' or something."

  They sat in silence.

  "How about a movie star or rock singer?" Teeny asked.

  "Too showy," Lefty replied, as he rubbed his old chin, "the boss is more...how you say...understated."

  They sat in silence again.

  "He just can't forget Clarice," Teeny said glumly.

  "Wonder if he ever will? Date again, I mean."

  A stocky woman in a sensible grey business suit approached.

  "Oh-oh," Lefty said under his breath, "here comes Stutgart an' she doesn't look happy."

  The woman's hair was pulled into a tight bun and Lefty wondered idly if it hurt her to wear it like that.

  "Mr. Shultz," she began, nodding towards Teeny then back to Lefty, "I need you to address the restroom problem here."

  "Yeah?" Lefty half listened as he wondered about her age. She looked around fifty or so, his age, give or take. She wouldn't be too bad looking if she smiled once i
n a while, he thought.

  "It appears," she continued, "there is a little homeless waif and one of the attendants is actually letting her sleep in the restroom."

  He sighed and rose stiffly from his chair. "She there right now?" he asked.

  "Yes, sir."

  She took off towards the restroom with Lefty trailing behind.

  Teeny grinned. "Gotta teach Lefty how to be stronger with that Stutgart dame," he muttered to himself, "they'd probably make a pretty good couple."

  Dani woke with a start as someone shook her shoulder. She gazed up at a matronly woman and an older grey haired man. Wait, she thought, a man in the women's restroom?

  Then, glancing towards the door, she saw orange cones and realized they'd closed it down. Probably to arrest her.

  But as the older man looked at her and gasped with an amazed expression on his face, she clutched her bag to her chest, wondering just what they had in mind. Even the woman was looking at her now with a shocked expression.

  "Spitting image," the man said, rubbing his chin.

  "That doesn't matter--" the woman began.

  "Oh yeah. It does. We've been combing the damn streets for another Clarice. Now this one is here, right in our laps. Today is a great day."

  What on earth were they talking about? Dani wondered. She also thought she might be having a dream. What did they mean, 'a Clarice'?

  Still clutching her bag, she sat up on the couch. "I was just leaving," she mumbled.

  The man looked thoughtful and spoke to the woman as if Dani wasn't there. "The showgirls," he said, "they have dresses, right? And you could have someone fix her hair?"

  "Yes," the woman replied, eyeing him warily.

  He nodded, as if making up his mind. "Get her cleaned up then. She's got an appointment upstairs. Half an hour."

  When the woman offered her the use of a shower backstage at the theater, Dani gratefully accepted. She washed her hair and soaped herself with the lavender scented bar. She used a wonderful clean towel and robe and, for a minute, watched the showgirls getting ready.

  What a madhouse it was backstage. And how exciting! The bright, lavish costumes and the huge headdresses, make-up and sequins. She watched longingly then realized the old woman was picking out a dress for her.

  "Am I in the show?" Dani asked her, hoping of all hope that she was.

  But the woman just stood studying her seriously. "Green," she said to a younger blonde woman standing by her side, "with sequins. He likes glitz, let's give it to him. Size ten by the looks of her, although the bust-line is huge...no wait, size eight, let's give him an eyeful." Only then did she tightly smile at Dani.

  After the blonde woman blow-dried Dani's hair, the two dressed her in a low-cut, green floor length gown with an intricate sequin motif. They provided her with clean underwear and heels, but the dress couldn't be worn with a bra so Dani gave up on that idea.

  "What am I to do, exactly?" Dani asked nervously.

  The younger one said excitedly, "Girl, you're going to the Scaletti penthouse."

  "Who?"

  The blonde put her hands on her hips. "Where you been? He owns the joint and besides that he's a total stud-muffin."

  Dani was flabbergasted. A job! Now she could get a job! "But, why the dress--" she began.

  "Better than those jeans you were wearing before," the older woman said severely. "Now, follow me."

  They rode up to the casino's thirtieth and highest floor in a private, mirrored elevator.

  When they arrived, the woman said, "This is Mr. Scaletti's penthouse. Stay here."

  Dani waited in the posh hallway feeling very awkward. She used one of the mirrors to check her appearance. Her wild, red curly hair was loose and flowed past her shoulders to the middle of her back. Her cheeks were naturally pink and her complexion alabaster. The deep green of her eyes was enhanced by the dress color. But she pulled at the dress straps, as she was not used to showing so much cleavage.

  Her body, she thought, was a bit too curvy for her tomboy nature, and although she was eighteen now, she still wasn't used to it.

  The woman came out a few minutes later. "Through that door and to your left. In the den." Then, before she went, as an afterthought, she added, "Behave yourself."

  Dani wondered what that meant. Slowly, she made her way into the large, luxurious den.

  The room smelled pleasantly of furniture wax. It was modernistic in design with white, overstuffed couches, chairs, many green trees in pots and a huge oak desk on her right.

  A man sat at the desk reading something, and she sized him up. Probably twenty-five, wide shoulders straining against a white shirt, cuffs rolled up revealing muscular tan arms, wavy jet-black hair a little on the long side, and a tan handsome, rugged face. She couldn't see his eyes, though, as they were trained now on a folder in front of him.

  "Would you like a drink?" he asked politely, without looking up.

  For some reason she felt offended that he was ignoring her. "Yes, please," she replied shortly.

  His lips quirked in a smile, but he still perused the paper in front of him. "Any particular drink? I can get you anything."

  "Whiskey will be fine."

  "Sideboard is over there," he said, still smiling, still not looking up.

  She helped herself to a small glass and returned to where she had been standing.

  Finally, he looked up at her. His blue-grey eyes were the most captivating she'd ever seen, but she rather thought they registered shock, as they roved up and down her lithe frame.

  Then he sat back in his plush black chair. He lazily studied her for a minute before he stood.

  She realized he was over six feet tall. He wore immaculately tailored clothes, and the shirt, the black pants and fine black leather belt had the look of quality.

  But there was something about his demeanor that shouted authority. She could tell he was a man who always got what he wanted. There was a glint of danger in his eyes.

  "Miss..."

  "Troubix. My name is Danielle, but people usually call me Dani."

  He nodded and gestured to two large chairs by an empty marble stone fireplace. They both sat, facing one another.

  Dani shifted in her dress and readjusted the straps. She felt like his gaze seared a hole through her and she was more uncomfortable by the second.

  Then she heard him laugh softly. "So what brings you to Vegas, Miss Troubix?"

  "A job," she blurted, "I mean I'm trying to find a job."

  His eyes were warm as they met hers, and he still smiled. "How old are you?"

  "Twenty-one," she lied. Then she groaned inwardly as she realized he'd find out from her driver's license about her age. Oh well, she told herself, by then he'd know what a good worker she was, and it wouldn't matter. It would take them some time to investigate her.

  He sat back. "And, what is your experience?"

  "Well," she said slowly after she sipped her drink nervously, "I can type and do some math. Although I really want to be a showgirl."

  He laughed. "Well, you've got the figure for it." Then he rose and walked to the sideboard. She noticed how gracefully he moved, like a panther. And she thought the blonde downstairs was right. He was a hunk.

  "So," he said, returning with a drink in his hand, "what brings you to Las Vegas? Where are you from?"

  She grew more nervous now under his steady gaze. "I grew up in New Jersey. Then I came here with my girlfriend. She's waiting downstairs." It was a lie, of course. She couldn't tell him her foster brother turned into a coke freak and gambling addict soon after they hit town.

  Her throat grew tight when she remembered how abandoned she'd felt back at their motel after he'd left. And she ran out of money.

  She took a large gulp of whiskey.

  "Well," he said slowly, observing her still, "if you have someone waiting I'll let you go then." He stood and moved to his desk.

  She rose and sighed her frustration, as he hadn't offered her a job. She placed her glass o
n the end table.

  He walked back and gave her an envelope. "Here, get some clothes tomorrow. Go downstairs now and ask for Lefty at the front desk. He'll get you situated in a room."

  She eyed him suspiciously, not taking the envelope. "And you have a job for me?"

  He grabbed both her hands and pressed it into them with his own, while she felt a shiver run down her spine at the intimate gesture. "Why," he said softly, looking down at her, "you're our new showgirl, Miss Troubix."

  Scaletti watched the girl leave on the hidden penthouse camera by his elevator. She counted the thousand dollars then kissed the envelope. He had to fight the urge to run after her.

  He called Lefty's cell phone.

  "Yeah," the old man said.

  "She might be a keeper, unless she runs off with my thousand," Scaletti told him.

  The man laughed.

  "She's also an accomplished liar. Do one of your famous background checks, Lefty. If she's twenty-one, like she told me, well, I'll bet you she's not. A hundred bucks."

  "You're on, boss. Hey, can I pick 'em, or what?"

  "That remains to be seen, my friend," Scaletti replied dryly, "that remains to be seen."

  Chapter 2

  After watching Dani change into her worn jeans and work shirt backstage, Stutgart guided her to a room on the second floor.

  But it wasn't just a room, Dani realized in amazement, it was a whole suite all to herself including mini-bar, a small refrigerator, a microwave, toaster, coffee maker, kitchen table and a separate bedroom. All the furnishings were ultra modern, with luxuriant ferns here and there, a plush beige couch and matching chairs. The bed had a peach multi-colored fluffy bedspread and the bedroom included a lounge chair.