STIRRED
The Martini Lounge
By
Ursula Sinclair
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This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, or other status is entirely coincidental.
Copyright 2016 by LaVerne Thompson
All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book or portions thereof in any form whatsoever known, not known or hereafter invented, or stored in any storage or retrieval system, is forbidden and punishable by the fullest extent of the law without written permission of the author. LaVerne Thompson [email protected]
Final Editor: Leanore Elliott
Proof Reader: RST Productions
Cover Art: Kylie Gray
Model: Michael Bright
Acknowledgments
Thank you to all my betareaders.
And to all those who risk their lives in service to others. Thank you.
Recipe for a great Martini.
In a cocktail shaker begin by muddling one olive.
Add 2 ounces of Belvedere Vodka
1/3 of an ounce of dry vermouth,
a dash of green olive brine.
Fill with ice and shake well. (this is Shaken after all lol)
Double strain into a chilled martini glass add 2 chilled olives.
Sit back and enjoy while you read.
Recipe modified slightly from Yahoo News- How to Make James Bonds Favorite Drink The Martini
Blurb
Who is that masked man?
During the day Harper Reynolds might have been a law school student, but at night he was a male stripper. At the very exclusive members only Club Prestige. To protect his identity he wore a mask. But one day someone saw through his facade and suddenly the future he’d planned was threatened.
Nadya Johnson thought she’d always be a marine, at least for the next eight years. But a bullet took it all away from her. Including the man she’d been writing to for years.
The Martini Lounge Collection
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Shaken (Book 1.5 in the Young Guns Series)
Stirred
Frozen
THE BALLERINA
&
THE FIGHTER
The 1ST book in the
Ballerina Series
The introduction of Ivy & Maze
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TABLE OF CONTENTS
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Epilogue
About the author
Chapter One
Harper
I walked into an empty condo and a dark room, but that was okay. I knew my way around now so I didn’t bump into anything. Excitement rode my thoughts as I dropped Redd’s mail on the table for her, and I kept the two letters that were mine to read in my room. It was a little weird to be home alone. My roommate hadn’t been around for the last couple of weeks now. Spending time with her new boyfriend. The only time I saw her nowadays was at our study course for the DC Bar and at work at Club Prestige.
The club had been busy tonight, several bridal parties. I sniffed the air as I dropped my backpack at the foot of the bed and crawled over it.
I needed to take a shower, but I wanted to read at least one of my letters first. The other was just a bank statement. I rolled onto my back, kept my boot clad feet hanging off the end of the bed but I grabbed a pillow behind me to place under my neck. Getting a sense of warmth as I glanced at the West Virginia postmark, a letter from home always did that to me. This one was from my mother. She still preferred putting pen to paper instead of fingers to keyboard as she put it.
I laughed out loud a time or two as I read about the happenings at home. The entire clan, my mom, grandparents, assortments of cousins and my three brothers all showed up a few weeks ago to watch me graduate from law school. I was the first in my family to get so far, but not the last. All three of my brothers were in college, and even if El, the youngest, was only in community college, it was still college.
I made a mental note to call Mom tomorrow, or rather later in the day, while I headed for my bathroom. After a quick shower, I climbed back into bed, this time I got under the cover but only brought the sheet up to my naked waist. I meant to shut off the lamp at my bedside, but instead I picked up my phone, only then did I turn off the light.
The room was only briefly plunged into darkness before I hit the on button and the light illuminated my torso and screen so I could see the icons. I opened up my email and the special folder where I kept all of her emails. Rereading the last one I’d gotten, the last time I’d heard from her, Nadya, almost six months now. My nerves were no longer edgy because of her silence, since finding out she wasn’t on any missing or death lists. Only my heart ached as I read her words to me again.
Dear Matrix,
Reading my name caused a sliver of amusement. She still didn’t know my real name. I’d just given her my stage name. It had been my older brother’s favorite movie. It’s the name I performed under. I wasn’t the only one at the club with a stage name or who wore a mask. I kept reading, although I’d memorized every word in every letter she’d ever written me. They’d always be ingrained in my heart.
Wow, can you believe Thanksgiving is over and Christmas is breathing down our necks already? Are you going home for Christmas? Soon you’ll have midterms or is it finals? Either way, I know you’ll ace those. Good luck! And you’re going to get picked up by a law firm. As you’ve told me numerous times you’re smart. *snickers* But seriously, I know any law firm would be damn lucky to have someone like you on their side. Regardless of the fact that you moonlighted, I’m assuming by then of course you won’t be anymore an, ahem, exotic dancer. God, what I won’t give to see you shake your ass. J
All kidding aside, I know if I ever need a lawyer I’d hire you. I’d expect a substantial discount of course.
Pretty soon you’ll be graduating and onto a serious career where you’re going to put in 100 hours a week. Just make sure you still have time for me. I have two more years to go in this place and won’t be coming state side an
ytime soon. But if I did, it would be to watch you graduate. I am so damn proud of you. Has it been three years already since you and I began writing to each other? Wow, I really did get lucky when I was randomly given your letter as part of the writing campaign. I’ve loved every minute of it, getting to know you. I hope you did too. I hope I helped you but no matter what, you’ve helped me so much more.
Take care of yourself and write me soon. I need your letters. I need you in my life even if we forever remain apart. Yet wishing…
Love, Nadya
I’d written to her three times since, but she never replied. I thought maybe it was because I told her I wanted us to meet. Stupid me thought we were ready, at least I was maybe she wasn’t. She’d once mentioned being scared of us actually meeting; maybe I should have paid more attention to her fears.
The last time I’d written just before graduation, I sent her an invitation and a long letter. I told her it would be my last. I couldn’t do it anymore. Wait for mail that never came. Even though my family surrounded me that day, I kept scanning the crowd for a female in a military uniform, one who stood above the crowd. We never exchanged pictures, but rather described our general appearances. But no five foot seven female built like a warrior princess with a milk chocolate complexion approached me.
While there were a few black women in uniform, none was the one I wanted, needed to see. I still regretted now our decision not to exchange pictures since the odds were we’d never meet. It actually, I think, drew us closer. Over the years we went from just being the occasional pen pal, to faceless friends who shared any and everything, but then we became something, not sure, more than friends.
She came to know me like no one else. For one thing, she knew something not even my family knew, sure as shit no one I went to law school with other than Redd knew and one of the choreographers for the club, also my best friend. I was a stripper. Funny, nowadays a woman could be a stripper and still go to law school or engineering school during the day and manage to get hired in her profession. After all, she was only dancing to pay her bills. But a guy doing it, not so cool.
Like I didn’t have bills to pay, my own as well as my family. The money at the club was good, the tips even better. I made on average $700 a night for a few hours. If I work Friday or Saturday nights, I could make upwards of a thousand. So hell yeah, it paid my bills. Those were just the tips. Unlike other strip clubs, Club Prestige actually pays their strippers. I even pay taxes, just maybe I didn’t tell good ole Uncle just how much my tips were. I wasn’t working for Uncle, but me and my family.
I yawned, needing to get some rest. I thought about sending Nadya one more email, but instead forced myself to shut my phone off and put it down. Tomorrow was Sunday, I’d sleep in. One more week of studying then I’d take the DC Bar, but I’d continue to work at the club for another month, maybe take a few days off to spend with my mom and brothers before they headed back to school. Life was good. I turned off the light, but as soon as my eyes shut, thoughts of Nadya danced in my head.
Chapter Two
Nadya
Dear Nadya,
I’m glad you got my letter and decided to write back. That’s an interesting name. Does it have any meaning? Thank you for your condolences. And yes, my brother dying over in Afghanistan was a difficult time. I wrote him once a month and I guess that drove my need to reach out to the men and women overseas now. Even if just to say someone gives a damn. I hope I didn’t come off as too nutty. I was still in a bad way when I wrote and my uncle thought this program would help me.
Anyway yes, I really am in my first year of law school. Not sure what my specialty will be. Please don’t let the fact I’m from West Virginia give you any preconceived notions. I came from a poor family yes, but we’re not rednecks. Lol. My oldest brother who was killed over there was the first of us to go beyond the borders of our country, and most of us never even made it to the West coast. I’m the first in a way, certainly the first to go beyond high school and get a college degree. And with a hell of a lot of luck, a law school one.
It’s okay with me if you don’t want to share pictures and just chat by mail or email. I’m cool with that. I don’t give a damn what color your skin is and hope you don’t care about mine. We both shed red.
I want us to be able to talk without having to hold back. Sometimes if you actually know what that person looks like it can mess things up. So with that in mind and knowing we’ll probably never meet, not that I wouldn’t mind, yes I want to be your friend. I can use one now too that’s not a brother, relative or someone who’s known me all my life. If it’s okay, I also won’t tell you my real name. I used the name Matrix because I like it, it was also my brother’s favorite movie. And, well, I lead a secret life. I’m a stripper. I hope that doesn’t shock you. But like I said, I come from a poor family and I need to pay my bills and help support my family. If that means women want to see me take my clothes off while I dance around a room, fine, and no, I don’t do poles. Lol. Okay chairs, no poles. I draw the line there. Besides, I’m really too tall and big for that.
And for the record, don’t judge. While I have a partial scholarship for school, it only covers half so I have to make enough money to pay for school and my living expenses, which aren’t much because I have a roommate, but also to help out back home. Also, I want you to know, I don’t sleep with any of the women who come to the club to watch me dance. They can touch, but I don’t go home with any of them. Right now my focus is on finishing law school and becoming a lawyer. Hope I haven’t freaked you out. Write me back.
Your friend,
Matrix
I took out the letters I’d received from Matrix over the years, all 75 of them, not to mention the hundreds of emails, and I spread them over my bed. They had kept me going while I served overseas. His words of encouragement and stories about his life touched a part of me I didn’t even know existed. I opened up to him and told him about my past because he was a stranger. Someone I had no intention of meeting, he became my best friend, but also something more. I always thought I’d have our letters and through our words we’d always be linked, but something happened six months ago. Something that changed everything, yet for us perhaps nothing.
“Nadya, did you need anything at the store?”
I glanced up to see Odessa. We were the same age, but weren’t related by blood even though we told everyone we were cousins, so much so that we’ve forgotten we’re not really related that way. It was her family who’d taken me in after I ran away from home. Her mom who saved me. I even call her parents aunt and uncle. She stood in the doorway, her baby, my one-year-old god daughter on her hip with a thumb in her mouth.
Seeing Stephie always made me smile. She was one of the few things these days that could. “Thanks, but I’m good. Do you need me to watch Stephie for you while you run out?”
“No that’s okay. I’m taking her with me, going to stop at the playground for a bit before coming home. It’s a beautiful day out. Why don’t you come with us?”
“Thanks, but you two go on and have fun.”
“What in the world do you have there anyway? Wait, are those letters? Oh my God, are they all from him? Your pen pal? I had no idea you had that many letters.” Odessa gave a low whistle as she came over for a closer look.
I’d exchanged a few letters with Odessa over the years but more phone calls. She’d met me in Paris last year when I had leave. I’d told her about the program then connecting combat units with people back in the States who’d lost someone to war.
“What did he say when you told him? Are you going to meet him?”
A shiver raced up my spine at the mere thought of meeting Matrix, but Lord knows if it was from fear or pleasure. Perhaps a bit of both. It wasn’t until after the helicopter I’d been in had gotten shot down, after all the months in the hospital, that I’d told Odessa that Matrix and I were more than just pen pals. There was a connection between us. She had been the only person I’d told about Matrix�
�s double life. I knew I could trust Odessa to take that with her to the grave. “No Odessa, I have no plans on meeting him. That hasn’t changed, especially now. And no I haven’t told him. In fact, I haven’t contacted him since…well since I got hurt.”
“What! But I thought now that you’re both in the same city, well near enough. He’s in DC, you’re in Arlington…”
I shook my head so hard and fast my neck hurt. “No. Nothing’s changed.”
Odessa came over to the bed and sat next to me with Stephie clinging to her neck but smiling at me. I ticked her tummy and she giggled, removing her arms from around her mother to launch herself at me. I grabbed her and she gave me a kiss on my nose. It had become a game between her and I. The first time I saw her cute little nose I’d given her a kiss, and she’s been doing the same to me.
“You should at least meet him. From what you told me he would like to at least meet you.”
“No, he won’t, we agreed. We never planned on meeting and there’s no reason to now.” I wasn’t going to tell her his last two letters to me let me know that’s exactly what he wanted to happen. If it hadn’t been for my accident…but I couldn’t go there. Things had changed. Then again nothing had.
“I disagree. You’re not marrying the man. Just call him up and go out for a drink with him.”
“Not happening. I can’t. I just can’t do it. If the feelings between us were that strong on paper I wouldn’t be able to stand it if he turned out to be a jerk. I’d rather think about him as I came to know him by his words.”
Stirred: The Martini Lounge Book 2 Page 1
