by Joanne Rock
He edged the barrier upward slightly, waiting for approval.
“No.” She stepped back quickly. Unsteadily. “I’ll meet you later, but the mask stays on.”
“Seriously?” He didn’t know what surprised him more. That she would agree to meet him or that she would want to remain anonymous when she did.
Although a vision of her draped all over him, her lean thighs straddling him while she wore nothing but sheer fabric and feathers, packed a punch so powerful it took his breath away.
“Can you be at the back entrance in fifteen minutes?” Her gaze skittered up toward the clock on the wall again.
“Yes, but won’t there be a crowd congregating there to see you?”
“Really?”
Again, that seemingly innocent surprise made no sense. Was she playing him?
“Security will walk you to your car, but I think they’ll discourage you from meeting anyone from the club once you’re off the clock.”
She frowned.
“I’ll handle that,” she said finally, taking a step backward. “And Trey?”
“Yes?” He heard the music change and knew another act was taking the stage.
“I’m really glad you were here tonight.”
She turned on her heel and walked out of the room, her hips swinging in a walk that was gently feminine and not purposely seductive. Or so it appeared to him.
He was having the damnedest time reading this woman.
Would she really meet him, or was she already planning to send security after him as soon as he showed up in the parking lot? Trey had no idea. But she was the hottest, most diverting woman he’d ever laid eyes on.
And he planned to enjoy every possible moment he had with Natalie Night. There would be time enough tomorrow to quiz the Sphere Asset Management researcher and get the answers he wanted.
Maybe after indulging his overheated sensual imagination with Natalie, he’d be able to look into Courtney Masterson’s gray eyes and see the calculating woman she really was and not the sexy accountant his brain had conjured.
* * *
THIS WAS BAD. Really bad.
I stumbled into the dressing room and scooped up my duffel bag, desperate to get out of the club before Trey realized I’d left. Because even though my heart was beating like a hummingbird’s—a jillion beats per second—I knew taking things further with a client would be out of the question. Unlike Fawn, no headhunters were heaping job offers at my feet.
It stood to reason that I shouldn’t have made a plan to meet him. But I’d felt tongue-tied and blurted the first thing that came to mind to get past him and into the dressing room. I figured I’d bought myself fifteen minutes without having to make excuses or explain myself.
“Nice job on the pole, New Girl.” Another dancer smiled at me as I swept my tubes of mascara and body glitter into the bag.
Six feet tall, at least, the woman was an ethnic blend à la JLo and flat-out gorgeous. The fact that she was mostly naked and applying pink body paint around her left breast only added to her stunning appearance. She looked like she was wearing a body suit of tattoos.
“Oh. Um.” Tough to make eye contact with a half-naked woman, but I tried. “Thank you. I’m Court—that is, I’m Natalie.”
As much as I needed to get going, I didn’t want to alienate Natalie’s future colleagues.
The pink-painted beauty laughed. “You’re not the only one hiding an identity, Natalie. We do love our stage names in this business. I’m Kim, but everyone here knows me as Kendra.”
“Nice to meet you.” Bag packed, I took an extra minute to admire the butterfly she’d somehow painted upside down on her chest. “Your artwork is amazing.”
“Yeah?” She straightened and eyed herself critically in a mirror banked by fluorescent lights. “Everything looks sort of green in these mirrors.”
“It’s really good.” I dug in my bag for a shapeless beach dress to cover my costume.
“Did you see Eric Reims in the crowd?” she asked, dipping her thin artist’s brush into a palette with black paint.
“Who?” Tugging the collar closed, I felt more like my old self again.
“The actor in the front row. He’s been in some teen movies, but last summer he did a low-budget romantic comedy.” She shaded the background of a flower with light strokes. “You couldn’t miss him. He was the hottest guy next to the stage.”
Personally, I begged to differ, but I had a vague impression of a youngish, polished blond man seated next to Trey. And yeah, he’d be fine if you went in for the baby-faced types. I’d only had eyes for Trey.
“I think I know who you mean.” Shuffling back a step, I wanted to call Natalie and tell her the good news. The club owner had already told me my spot was secure for the fall lineup.
That meant Natalie had a job. It felt good to think I’d erased a small part of my debt to my dance instructor. I could never have experienced a night like this—a thrill on so many levels—without her.
“He sat next to Trey Fraser, the hot-headed son of Thomas Fraser, the big producer.” Kendra picked up a small tin of rhinestones and carefully applied them to the butterfly’s antennae. “I think I read that the son is Eric Reims’s agent now.”
At the mention of Trey’s name, I got all worked up again. I’d never been the boy-crazy kind, not even when I was a preteen and everyone else salivated over the most popular guys in school. Maybe it was knowing I couldn’t compete, or that I’d only embarrass myself. But even through college and my years in the workforce so far, I just hadn’t dated much. A couple of fumbling relationships with guy-friends. Nothing like the breathless, Tilt-A-Whirl feelings that Trey inspired.
The thought of walking away from the chance to be with him tonight hurt anew. How often did opportunities like that come around?
Before I could answer Kendra, the guy who seemed to be the head bouncer stuck his head in the dressing room, knocking belatedly on the open door.
“Ms. Night?”
Nerves tensed, I straightened. The longer I hung around there, the more worried I became that I’d mess something up for Natalie. I felt like Cinderella at midnight and the chimes were already ringing.
“Yes?” I responded, my mask still in place.
“Mr. Fraser is waiting for you by the back door. May I escort you out?”
Panic exploded in my chest while Kendra let out a deep, throaty laugh.
“Looks like the New Girl was working the room better than I realized.” She set down her tin of rhinestones and lifted a palm in the air.
It took me a minute to realize she was waiting for a high five. Heaven knows, it didn’t feel like a moment to celebrate for me.
Finally, I gave her the necessary hand smack and tried to smile.
“G-guess I’d better get going.” I stumbled through the words a bit because I was super nervous. I couldn’t go out the back door if Trey was waiting for me there. He was at least five minutes earlier than we’d agreed.
Praying for an escape plan to come to me, I hitched the strap to my duffel higher on my shoulder and moved toward my bouncer escort.
“Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” called Kendra, a teasing note in her voice suggesting I should do whatever the hell I wanted.
I wish.
“Can I carry that for you?” the huge man asked. He looked like he’d been at the gym every day of his life and I was amazed he’d found a suit coat to span those shoulders.
“No, thank you,” I squeaked in a rush, darting forward before he could insist on taking it.
“This way.” He gestured left and I nodded meekly, hoping he didn’t try to make conversation.
I needed to hang back and find a way out.
The music coming from the dance floor had turned into a screechy female vocal over heavy bass drums. The result sounded like someone having sex and I pictured myself going out into the parking lot with Trey and getting sweaty and naked. Forcing myself back to reality, I noticed there weren’t many do
ors around, let alone any labeled with a big red Exit sign.
But as soon as I saw a glimpse of flashing purple strobe lights, I knew I must be near the front of the club and the main stage. So, without a word to Mr. Big and Beefy, I turned a sharp left and zipped down the hall toward the music.
Was it my imagination, or did I hear a male voice calling after me a couple of seconds later?
I didn’t look back as I pushed past half-dressed waitresses and men with glazed and drunken eyes. A couple of guys materialized before me, but I ducked around them with ease. I was a woman on a mission. Seeing a crowd around the front entrance, I edged through the throng and shoved the heavy steel door open.
Hitting the pavement at a run, I left Backstage behind and headed for my SUV. When the engine turned over and I reversed out of the parking spot, I knew I should feel relieved. I had secured a job for Natalie and escaped Trey Fraser. He would never know that the mystery dancer on stage was one of the wealth management experts who would be servicing his account.
Yet the only thing I felt as I pulled onto the highway was a deep sense of loss that I’d had to deceive the only man who’d looked at me twice. The only man who’d propositioned me for a one-night stand.
Even worse, going back to my regular life would feel like a huge letdown after all this. But at least my behind-the-scenes role at Sphere would keep me away from Trey. After tonight, there wasn’t any reason in the world I’d ever see him again.
4
“CAN I HELP you?” the redhead behind the desk at Sphere Management asked, an old-fashioned teacup steaming beside her.
Almost as much as Trey steamed right now.
He couldn’t be sure if he was more frustrated about being stood up the night before or about the leak in his small organization that made his professional plans public knowledge.
“Courtney Masterson.” At least he knew where to find her.
Natalie Night would have to wait.
“Certainly.” The receptionist lifted the handset on her phone. “May I give her your name?”
“Trey Fraser.” Not for the first time, he wished he had a name that wasn’t so well recognized in this town.
His photo hadn’t shown up on the gossip blogs this morning, but it was early yet. Eric’s face had been all over the internet long before dawn. It would be a minor miracle if none of those same photographers had Trey in a shot.
“Thank you.” The woman’s expression remained a polite mask, but he see could her lips tighten almost imperceptibly.
While she put the call through, Trey planned his approach. He would be professional. To the point. But he wasn’t leaving without some answers.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Fraser.” The receptionist rose from her seat behind the massive desk. “Ms. Masterson isn’t answering her phone. Did you have an appointment with her this morning?”
“I made it clear to Fawn Barrows yesterday that I wanted to meet her researcher as soon as possible. I assumed she would convey as much to Ms. Masterson.” Irritation furrowed his brow. “Is Fawn in the office?”
“I’ll check.” The woman pressed a button and spoke to someone. Moments later Fawn appeared.
“Good to see you, Trey.” She wore a gray suit and had a file folder tucked under one arm. She shook his hand and seemed less flirtatious than the day before. “I heard you were looking for Courtney?”
He nodded. Waited.
“I saw her earlier this morning. She must be away from her desk.” Gesturing him toward the doorway she’d emerged from, she left her folder on the reception desk. “Why don’t you come on back and I’ll see if I can locate her?”
Following her into the private corridors of Sphere Asset Management, Trey followed her along the same passage they’d navigated yesterday.
“I saw your father optioned the rights on a new book in today’s Variety.” Fawn peeked into the same office that Courtney hadn’t been in yesterday.
Trey looked through the open door at the researcher’s desk. A navy blue jacket was neatly folded over the high-backed leather chair. A good sign she was nearby?
“I’m not sure why he wants to make that into a film.” He didn’t want to talk about his father. But inevitably, people asked about him.
“I know, right?” Fawn turned on her heel and crossed her arms, as if she was ready to launch into a full-blown conversation around the water cooler. “He usually makes the big commercial pictures. Action adventures. Bankable stars. I was really surprised he picked up such a quiet, thoughtful book.”
Trey had known why the moment he saw the deal. His dad had an insatiable need for competition to prove he was the best. Therefore, he’d make a film to go head-to-head with the movie Trey had planned while he was still in charge of his own division at his father’s company. Trey had vowed to make the picture one day. Now his father was lining up a project with a similar tone and audience so he could do it better.
Could they have a more messed-up relationship?
“Go figure.” Trey shrugged and then straightened as he saw a woman appear from a nearby office.
A brunette with her head down, deep in thought as she studied a page in a thick open ledger.
“Ms. Masterson?” He snagged her attention moments before she would have collided with him.
Her head snapped up.
“Oh!” She was so startled she lost her grip on the ledger. Wide gray eyes met his gaze. “Sorry!”
The book hit his toe before tipping onto the floor. In a flash, she was kneeling at his feet to scoop it up, her body so close he could swear he felt her warm breath on his thigh.
Or was that wishful thinking?
He ground his teeth together and reminded himself why he wanted to find this woman in the first place. Maybe his missed opportunity with Natalie had made him see sexual scenarios everywhere he looked.
“No problem.” He reached down to help her to her feet, cupping her elbow in one hand.
She looked different than she had the day before. Without a suit jacket on, she seemed less rumpled and more...curvaceous. A simple white silk tank flattered her breasts even though the high-cut neckline revealed nothing. Her chestnut-brown hair was twisted into a messy knot and tendrils sprang from the front and back, some framing her face and some twining around her neck.
Still, it was her dove-gray eyes that drew him in. That, and the fact that her breath hitched when he touched her. He released her now, his fingers slow to relinquish the warmth of her bare arm.
“Courtney, you remember Trey Fraser?” Fawn prodded when neither of them spoke for a long moment.
“Yes.” She said the word with slow deliberation while Trey breathed in her scent. It was something green and fresh, so subtle he was tempted to lean closer to identify it.
“I’d like to speak to you privately,” Trey informed her, needing to put the barrier of a desk between them if he was going to have a useful conversation.
And that had to be the priority, even though something about her put his senses on full alert. Perhaps because her body reminded him of Natalie’s. Same basic proportions. Maybe even the same height, if Natalie hadn’t been wearing the sky-high heels she’d sported for her dance.
“O-kay.” Again, her speech seemed slowed down, the way one might speak to a child. Something about that oddly lilting pattern reminded him of Natalie, as well. “Come with me.”
She hustled past him without another word. Fawn had disappeared, probably returning to her office to pore over the pages of Variety. Although, in this town, maybe that made good business sense even if you weren’t in the film industry.
Trey followed her progress down the hall, indulging in the back view without shame. Courtney Masterson did not showcase her assets with the same abandon that Natalie had—the brazen ass slap came tantalizingly to mind—but her figure was every bit as enticing.
Inside her office, she gestured to the seats near an open window before closing the door behind them. He appreciated her taking his request for a private
talk seriously. Still, he didn’t sit until she joined him near the matching wingbacks on either side of a small cherry table. When she lowered herself into one, he did the same.
“How can I help you?” She had put her jacket on.
He wondered why she hid behind the shapeless clothes and sensible shoes. With her lack of make-up, the effort to play down her natural attractiveness seemed purposeful.
“You included some information in your background report on me that shouldn’t be public knowledge.” In an effort to keep his eyes off her legs, he took in the details of her office. Degree from UCLA. A corkboard with a photo of her holding a margarita among a bunch of other women doing the same. She looked different. Relaxed and happy.
What interested him about the picture, however, was that the women knelt on red mats in front of a shiny silver pole. Given his recent jaw-dropping introduction to the finer points of pole dancing, he couldn’t help but think about Natalie.
Damn it.
“I didn’t think I included anything private.” She frowned and the movement shifted a trio of light freckles near her mouth.
He wondered absently what her skin tasted like right there.
“You referenced a possible business expansion beyond the talent management,” he reminded her, trying hard to rein himself in.
She must not have needed the file to know what he referred to because she nodded immediately. “Yes. I remember.”
“No one knows about that.” Tension tightened his shoulders. Hell, maybe his father was already aware about Trey’s professional plans. That would account for the sudden interest in more artistic films.
“No? I do.” A smile curled her lips now, and no matter that she flashed him a mildly triumphant look, he had to admire the obvious pride she took in her work.
“I need to learn your source for that information.”
“I’m not at liberty to say.” Her chin jutted as she laced her fingers into a tight knot.
He noticed she wore no rings. Was she seeing anyone?
Not that he was in the market himself. After he’d had a ring handed back to him by his only attempt at a serious relationship, he was in no hurry to head down that road again. Heather had left him during one of his many disagreements with his father, the up-and-coming actress siding with his dad. Leaving Trey to wonder if she’d ever dated him for himself, or if she was wooed by the family name and the access to a famous producer. But two years after that breakup, Trey now found himself curious about someone new.
