by Katy Kaylee
Bingo, I thought. You poor fucker.
The drunk guy kept reaching for Madison’s dangling breasts. When his hand brushed her skin, I leapt into action and grabbed the guy back by the collar before security could step in. We stumbled together and landed on the floor, where I wrestled him down and gave him a hard clip to the jaw that knocked his head back.
“Hey, you fucker,” the guy growled. He threw a punch at me, which I dodged. I was determined to keep my hands on him until the commotion was big enough to drag the owner, Angel, out of his office. Soon, the guards were surrounding us, pulling me off of the drunk guy.
Seconds later, Angel himself was standing there. An attractive man with tattoos and flashing dark eyes, he looked pissed as hell.
“What the hell are you doing in my club,” he growled at me. “You’d better watch your ass, or I’ll ban you.”
Madison caught sight of the whole spectacle. She looked wide-eyed as she darted over and took my arm.
“He was just trying to protect me, Angel,” she pleaded as she took my arm in her hands. “That asshole was trying to put his hands all over me!”
Angel rolled his eyes. “Whatever, enough,” he said. “Behave yourself, you understand me?”
I nodded, playing the repentant man as hard as I could.
“Come on,” Angel said, taking Madison’s arm and dragging her back to the dressing room. I rolled my eyes, knowing she was in for a lecture about dating clientele, but that was fine.
The plan had worked. I counted the seconds until Steve re-appeared, then jerked my chin at the exit for him to leave. As soon as I saw him disappear into the parking lot, I breathed a sigh of relief.
My body was hurting from the fake fight – it was true that I was no longer a young man. With an ache in my gut, I turned to the bar and flagged down the bartender for a drink.
Now, I didn’t have shit to do until my “girlfriend” came back.
Fucking great.
4
Paris – Friday
With a big yawn, I walked over to the coffee pot and frowned at it. It wasn’t like the small one that Hollie and I shared in our dorm room at MontClaire. It was a complicated, large contraption that I somehow guessed brewed a ton of coffee.
Was it possible that Harrison drank all of that himself?
I couldn’t stop myself from yawning again, and I rubbed my eyes with both of my fists. I’d barely slept the night before, meaning that I was once again, up way too early.
If I didn’t have so much anxiety about my new job, things might have been different.
As I fumbled with the coffee maker, the door from the garage swung open and Harrison appeared. My heart started to thud faster, just like it always did when I saw Harrison. God, he was always so handsome ... even when he looked wrung-out and exhausted, just like he did then.
“Hey,” I said shyly. “Good morning.”
Harrison looked surprised to see me awake.
“You want some coffee?” I asked. “I mean, I probably screwed it up ... this thing is way fancier than the one that Hollie and I have.”
In reality, I didn’t care if Harrison had coffee or not.
I just wanted him to sit with me for a few minutes. Even though it wasn’t like I could tell him about my new job, being with him always had a calming effect on me. Just talking to Harrison made me feel chill and relaxed, and I hoped he’d say yes.
He paused, and I flushed at the memory of yesterday morning: Harrison catching me stepping out of the shower, in just a towel and nothing else. I’d forgotten my robe back at school and I’d prayed that no one would see me.
But of course, that’s not the way the universe worked. Harrison’s face had changed and contorted and I’d blushed so hard that I’d nearly started sweating.
I hadn’t seen him since then.
Without answering me, Harrison went to the coffee maker and poured himself a cup. He sat down at the kitchen table and after a few seconds, I joined him.
“So,” I began, clearing my throat of early-morning sleepiness. “How was your night?”
Harrison shrugged. “Business as usual,” he told me. He took a long swallow of coffee and I had to force my eyes away from his handsome face. He looked so tired, so wan that I wondered what he was really doing. Hollie had told me that he was working on some new assignment, but she didn’t know any details ... and she sounded so uninterested in her father’s current job that I didn’t feel it would be right for me to have asked about it.
“I see,” I said quietly.
Harrison took another swallow of coffee and winced.
“Did I really screw it up that much?” I ask.
Harrison shook his head. “No,” he said, wincing again, and I wondered if he was in pain. He turned his head to the side and cracked his neck twice. As he turned away from me, I frowned. There was a smudge of something red – lipstick? – on his neck, and the sight of it sent a fleeting thought of anxiety and loneliness through me.
Was he really at work last night?
Or had he spent it with a woman?
My palms began to sweat and I wiped them on my thighs as I wondered what really happened. Hollie told me that she wasn’t sure that her dad would get over losing her mom.
But Hollie and her dad didn’t talk much when she and I were at school, and a lot could have happened over the last year.
Maybe Hollie was wrong.
I bit my lip and tried to push the thought out of my head. It made sense that Harrison wouldn’t want to be a monk. He was a handsome man, an incredibly handsome man, and his job had to be hard.
It made sense that he’d want company, but the thought of him being with another woman made me feel sick and queasy.
“What are you doing up so early?” Harrison asked.
I swallowed hard. “I ... didn’t sleep so well last night,” I told him.
Harrison narrowed his eyes at me. “Everything okay? I know that mattress in the guest room isn’t the best. Krista kept talking about wanting to replace it, but well, I never got around to doing it once Hollie moved to the dorms.”
I shook my head. “I guess I’m nervous about starting my new job tonight.”
“What is it that you’ll be doing?” Harrison asked.
For a fleeting second, I thought about telling Harrison the impossible truth. Would his face turn red? Would he be angry, or disappointed?
No. He would probably just think that I was kidding, and the thought is enough to make me blush even harder.
“Just working for an entertainment company,” I lied.
“Oh yeah? That sounds like it could be interesting,” Harrison said.
“Sort of,” I said, trying not to lie outright to his face. “You know, it’s probably one of those things that sounds really exciting to everyone who doesn’t actually do it.”
Harrison nodded. “I can understand that,” he said. “Like catering, or something?”
I nodded. “Yeah,” I said.
“Well, whatever it is, I’m sure you’ll be great,” Harrison said. He drained the rest of his coffee and set the cup down on the table. Then, he looked over at me and our eyes met. The moment to reply and thank him for his vote of confidence passed, and the tension began to grow.
I took a deep breath. “I ... I just wanted to thank you,” I said softly. “For everything that you’ve done for me. For letting me stay here this summer,” I added. And for saving my life, ten years ago, I thought.
Harrison nodded. “It was part of my job,” he said. “But I’m glad that you didn’t have to suffer any more. The things that could have happened ...” He trailed off, his brow furrowing. “I don’t like to think about it.”
“Me, neither,” I said. This was easily the most intimate moment that I’d ever shared with Harrison, and before I could stop myself, I reached out and put my hand on his and squeezed. Touching him sent a thrill shooting down my spine.
He didn’t brush my hand away. When I looked into his deep blue eyes on
ce again, I saw the look there mirrored my own feelings. There was a connection between us, and it was obvious that he felt it, too.
Did he love me? Did he want me, the same way I had always wanted him?
Our hands were still touching, and I had to fight to restrain from throwing myself into his arms and kissing him, lipstick on his neck be damned.
“I ... I ...” I opened my mouth, unable to bear keeping my feelings for him a secret any longer. I had to confess, I had to tell him that I loved him. That I’d always loved him, and that I’d love him for the rest of my life.
Before I could say anything else, there was a flurry of footsteps on the stairs. Harrison yanked his hand away from mine like he’d been scalded, and the intimacy between us vanished like a bubble of soap popping.
Hollie appeared in the kitchen and Harrison got to his feet, walking over to his daughter and kissing her on the forehead.
“I’m heading to bed,” Harrison said. I wanted him to say something to me, to look at me, to do anything other than what he did, which was walk up the stairs without a second glance in my direction.
“Night, Dad,” Hollie called up the stairs after him. Then, she sat down at the table with me.
“What are you doing up so early?” Hollie asked. “Are you okay?”
I shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep,” I told her. “I think I’m nervous about tonight.”
Hollie threw her arms around me and hugged me tightly. A flash of guilt ran through me. I couldn’t believe that moments ago, I’d been on the verge of confessing my love for her father.
It wasn’t right, and it would deeply upset her if she knew my feelings were anything more than the vaguest hint of a crush.
“You’re gonna kill it, Paris,” Hollie said, giving me a confident grin before pulling away. She got to her feet and walked over to the coffee pot. After pouring herself a cup, she sat back down.
“Seriously, you’ll be great,” Hollie continued. She took a deep sip of coffee and turned to me, frowning. “What’s wrong? You look like someone just ran over your puppy,” she joked.
How could I tell her what was wrong? I’ve never kept secrets from Hollie. But now, they were piling up all around me and I felt like I couldn’t control any of them. I hadn’t told her about losing my scholarship, or my deep love for her father. I hadn’t told her about how I had to take a job as a stripper in a seedy gentleman’s club.
It would change everything. Hollie would never be able to think of me in the same way again, and if there’s one thing I couldn’t stand to lose, it was her friendship. She and Harrison were the rocks I’d clung to for ten years, and if I lost them both, it would kill me.
I couldn’t risk it.
“Well, you might not wanna talk about it, but I can tell something is really bothering you,” Hollie said brightly. “Let’s go for a run. That always makes me feel better.”
I groaned. “A run? Seriously?”
Hollie nodded. “Yes,” she said, raising an eyebrow at me and crossing her arms over her chest.
“I’m exhausted,” I told her. And I should probably save my energy for later. An unfortunate image popped into my mind: me, on stage at The Pink Diamond, sore and tense from a long morning run. Patrons laughing, other dancers sniggering at me from backstage.
I shook my head in hopes of clearing the thought away.
“Paris,” Hollie said. “Doctors have to set a good example for their patients, don’t they?”
“You’re going to be a doctor,” I reminded her. “I’m going to be a counselor. Dealing with peoples’ minds. Not their bodies.”
Hollie rolled her eyes at me. “Physical health is a huge part of mental health,” she said. “You know that. It’s like, a basic part of psychology. Exercise releases endorphins, and keeps your hormones in check. That’s why everyone feels so good when they start an exercise regime.”
I frowned at her. I had to admit, she was right – I’d heard that several times over studying psychology.
“You know it’s true,” Hollie added in a sing-song voice. “Let’s go.”
I didn’t want to go running – I hated running – but I figured this was the only way to get Hollie off my back, to get her to stop asking questions about what was on my mind. And I couldn’t help but wonder if a run really would make me feel a tiny bit better: I was so anxious over what I had to do later that night that I would have tried almost anything.
“Okay,” I told her. “Let me just change, and then we can go, deal?”
Hollie nodded. She looked satisfied as the two of us left the kitchen and went upstairs. In the guest room where I was staying, I hadn’t really had much of a chance to unpack. My things were scattered and strewn all over the room. As quickly as I could, I changed out of my yoga pants into a pair of spandex running shorts and added a bra under my loose t-shirt. I felt so exposed in those little shorts, and a nervous thrill ran through my when I realized that tonight, I’d be way more exposed.
I’d be naked, in front of a whole room of men.
I swallowed hard, exhaling sharply, and left the room.
“Paris, let’s go,” Hollie called from downstairs. “We need to get a move on!”
“Coming,” I called back, trying to sound normal and confident.
I had no idea what would happen later.
But there was only one way to find out.
5
Harrison – Friday
Another night in the club. Another long, boring span of hours spent sitting at the bar while scantily-clad women danced in front of me, hoping for tips and dances and attention.
Steve wasn’t with me. I had thought it would be too risky for him to come back to The Pink Diamond so soon after duplicating Angel’s hard drive. There might have been someone who saw us, or even security footage that I wasn’t aware of. Steve was spending the night downtown, in the precinct, going over the data dump with the digital forensics team. They were hoping to cobble together some kind of ledger, or even a list of appointments in order to get a fuller picture of everyone involved. I knew for sure that there was a drug ring operating out of The Pink Diamond, but I had suspicions about other illegal activity as well. We had enough evidence to pin this place for drugs, but we were still in the process of piecing together all the players.
I just hoped it wouldn’t take too much longer. I wasn’t sure that I had many more nights in me, sitting at the bar and playing the part of Madison’s devoted boyfriend. Plus, although she was ditzy, she wasn’t stupid. I worried that after long enough, she might start to get suspicious if the relationship didn’t progress. Other dancers at the club dated men who went all out trying to impress them, much like Madison’s ex-lover had paid for those gigantic fake tits of hers. Other girls started coming home with diamonds and cars.
On a detective’s budget, there was no fucking way I’d buy Madison Maxx anything more than a gumball machine ring.
“Another drink?” The bartender glanced my way and raised an eyebrow. After coming to the club for weeks on end, I’d figured it out pretty clearly. The bartenders were always smarter and more cynical than the dancers. They were willing to flirt, willing to banter, as long as you didn’t treat them like idiots.
I smiled at her. “Sure thing, sweetheart,” I said, forking over another five. “Put it on my tab, will you?”
She nodded, and handed me a drink that was much stronger than the one I’d just finished. I sipped it and leaned back against the sticky, faux-leather back of the barstool.
Just sitting there, waiting, was killing me. It was something I was used to doing for work, but there was a huge difference between sitting in a cruiser for hours and sitting in a strip club. I felt like my mind was going to atrophy if I couldn’t get this solved and done with soon.
I was relieved to see that It didn’t look like anything was out of the ordinary. It all seemed like business as usual, even if it was incredibly boring.
I heard the sound of a door slam and turned my gaze to see Angel eme
rging from his office. His arm was around another dancer’s waist, holding her close. She was still made up in glitter and sequins and lace, but she looked tired. There were bags under her eyes, and her face was drawn and taut.
I wondered if the rumors I’d heard were true: that some of the women worked after-hours as hookers. Madison hadn’t mentioned anything about it – we’d been getting closer, but I was starting to think it was something I’d have to ask about. Sure, it was just a rumor, but years of work had trained me well. I could sense that something else was going on beneath the surface.
Something exploitative.
It was obvious if you just looked at some of the girls. Besides being obviously tired, they had a look in their eyes that signaled they were in trouble. Bruises, and not just the kind that came from accidentally banging into the pole or stumbling on stage. Smeary makeup that I could tell wasn’t just from perspiration.
I had to get to the bottom of this. I took another sip of my drink, feeling the alcohol burn all the way down to my stomach. The music slowed, then changed to a song with booming bass. The lights dimmed and the DJ came on over the speakers, announcing a new dancer.
This should be interesting, I thought. Someone new, someone fresh – maybe someone I can keep a close eye on.
I turned my attention to the stage, along with every other horny, lonely man in The Pink Diamond.
When I saw who was walking over to the pole, my eyes widened at the sight of her familiar curves.
What the fuck was Paris doing on stage?
I did a double-take – at first, I couldn’t believe that it was her. I didn’t want to believe that it was her. No, the Paris I knew wouldn’t be doing this: walking out in a pink bikini that left little to the imagination. Her ripe, pale curves were stunning in the bright lights of the stage, and there was a smile on her face, but I could tell that she was faking it. As she walked closer to the pole and leaned against it, swaying and undulating her curvy body, I felt a chill.
