by Cate Masters
If she only knew. “Anything out of the ordinary. I’m still a little freaked about last night.”
“No worries, babe. We got your back.” From anyone else, the saying would mean little.
“I know you do.” She sent him a grin. “You guys are the best.” Gregory was one of the few people she could rely on, besides Keb and Bryn. He’d tipped her off about the job opening two years ago, and never asked for anything in return.
He threw an arm around her. “No, you are. That’s why the house is packed every night.”
“Hardly.” Not that Gregory would know; cataracts blotted his vision. Between that, and arthritis-gnarled fingers, Lily didn’t know how he managed to tend bar so efficiently.
“It’s the truth.” He quickly added, “Before I forget, the boss asked to see you as soon as you got here.”
“Right away?” What now? Since hiring on as manager six months ago, Demi pried into Lily’s life, her probe into personal details unnerving. Lily always felt like a little girl called to the principal’s office when Demi sent for her.
“No clue, sweet cheeks. She did sound excited, maybe a little nervous.”
“Great. She’s probably about to fire me.”
He blew through his lips. “No way. Might as well close the place down if she did that.”
She punched his arm. “Oh, stop.” He’d eased her mind a little. “Guess I’d better get it over with.”
Rounding the bend in the hallway leading to the executive offices, she slammed into someone. “Sorry.” Sorrier that the girl’s bony shoulder dug into hers.
“In a hurry?” the girl’s snide tone grated. She glared, her eyes a crystal blue-grey like shattered diamonds, and equal in hardness. She held Lily’s gaze a beat too long, malice shining through in the downward curve of her lips, the flare of her nostrils. Something about her seemed familiar. Before Lily could place it, the girl flounced away.
Must be a new girl. Lily had grown accustomed to them, arriving like an endless wave of bitchy cheerleaders hellbent on knocking Lily off the top position on the pole. “Welcome to Polaris.” Lily never gave any of them a second thought. If they proved better than her, fine. She had no intention of remaining a pole dancer. Someday, she’d buy Polaris, and treat all her employees with dignity and respect. Something the current ownership overlooked.
Hesitating outside the office door, Lily knocked.
“Come in,” Demi called from inside, and beamed at Lily when she entered. “Thanks for stopping by.”
If she’d known it was optional, she wouldn’t have. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes. Close the door, please.”
Never a good way to start a conversation. The latch clicked into place, and Lily stood there.
“Sit.” Demi gestured at the chair.
Lily bristled at the command, spoken kindly enough, if usually reserved for dogs. She dropped her bag beside the chair and plopped down. Her nerves tightened when Demi studied her.
The woman opened a drawer. “I meant to give you this yesterday.” She slid a small box, wrapped in gold and twined with gold ribbon, across the desktop.
Uncertain what to think, Lily glanced from the gift to her boss. “What’s this?”
“Open it and find out.” Mischief twinkled in Demi’s eyes as she leaned her elbows on the desk.
“I don’t understand.” Gifts usually came at a price – to the recipient. She wanted to owe nothing to Demi.
“Your twenty-first birthday should be a memorable occasion.”
A snort escaped. “It was.” Not for the usual reasons.
Something darkened Demi’s features for a moment, a passing dread or displeasure. “I’m glad.” She didn’t sound it. “I hope this will add to it.”
“I don’t feel right accepting a gift.” The ethics card. Argue with that.
“Think of it as a bonus, then. You deserve it.”
No further arguments came to mind, so Lily tugged away the ribbon and paper. At seeing the black felt box, she held her breath and glanced up at Demi, who urged, “Open it.”
In her hands, the box gave no clue of what might lie inside. As Lily lifted the lid, the silken lining cradled a stunning diamond pendant on a delicate silver chain. “Oh, my gosh.”
“Do you like it?” Demi sounded pleased.
Who wouldn’t? Still, Lily couldn’t fathom why Demi would do such a thing. The woman took an unnatural interest in her, and Lily didn’t welcome her attentions. “It’s amazing. But I can’t possibly accept it.”
“Of course you can. I only ask that you tell no one else where you got it.”
“It’s too much.” So tempting to slip it into her bag, lie to herself that yes, she deserved such an extravagant bonus. “I can’t.” She snapped the box shut and placed it in front of Demi.
The woman appeared stunned, maybe panic stricken, then visibly recomposed herself. “I assure you, there are no strings attached.” She leaned back. “The gift isn’t from me. The owner instructed me to buy it. It’s a new company policy. You’re simply the first recipient. Just don’t advertise the fact.”
“Why not? Wouldn’t it inspire the other dancers to perform their best every night?”
“It might inspire other things first. Jealousy. Theft. Or more unsavory acts.” She sighed. “I appreciate your feelings. Please consider mine. You’ll get me in trouble if you don’t take it.”
It was exquisite. “It doesn’t seem right.”
“Do me a favor. Wear it tonight while you dance.” Demi slid the box toward her. “It might grow on you.” Despite her light tone, the underlying urgency came through.
Like a huge red flag. What an awkward position to find herself in. Lily slumped. “All right. One night. If I return it to you tomorrow, please understand.”
“Fair enough.”
Fairness, Lily would guess, had nothing whatsoever to do with any of this. Her hand closed around the box. “Thank you.” Somehow its velvety feel gave her the sensation of entering the hall of the brownstone, walking into a spider web and the sticky strands entangling her limbs.
Stepping into the hallway, Lily’s breath eased. Strange, definitely, but not as bad as she’d thought. In seconds, she was in the dressing room, changing into the sequined stringy outfit hanging beside her station. Her so-called costume, it exposed the curves of her breasts, and only a triangle of sequined silver covered her crotch. She left her hair loose around her shoulders. From her bag, she lifted the box and held it. If she wore it, everyone would ask who’d given it to her. If she didn’t wear it, Demi would know.
She lifted the lid and fingered the teardrop-shaped pendant, its center gleaming in faceted glory. It couldn’t possibly be a real diamond. It would have cost thousands. After fastening the clasp, she fingered the necklace dangling just below her collarbone. Yes, she could get used to it. It hardly had any weight, and its length ensured it would move with her, snug enough so it wouldn’t hit her in the face when she hung upside down during her routine.
Claps and catcalls echoed down the hallway.
Bryn rushed in, breathless. “You’re up, sweetie.” Her gaze caught on the necklace. “Oo, where’d you get the sweet ice?”
Foo Fighters blasted. Her musical cue. “Tell you later.” After I think of something. She padded down the hall to the stage entrance. The spotlights swirled, then dimmed. Her cue.
In the darkness, the collective attention of the audience sought her out, the focus a weight that served to calm her rather than incite nervousness. After placing her hands high on the pole, she twisted upward, inverting her position. One leg wrapped around the pole to anchor her, she bent the other across it, holding tight until the spotlight switched on, momentarily blinding her.
The crowd whistled and cheered as she slid to the floor, arched her back and rotated one leg down, then the other in a slow show of control any ballerina would envy. From then on, her body followed the beat, and her mind drifted away on the rhythm.
Except
tonight. A palpable presence lurked in the room. She did what she’d never done before. She searched the faces of the people fanned out beyond the stage.
They pressed forward, eyes glazed with lust. Mouths parted, tongues probing lips… yes, that’s why she never looked. Some complained about it, said her ignoring them made them feel like nothing. Right, she should be grateful for their waving bills, eager to tuck it into her outfit and cop a feel as payment. Keb earned her thanks many times over by hauling overly enthusiastic men away from the stage, the first and only warning before he tossed them into the parking lot.
Legs in a wide stance, she bent over and peered at them again. Her search ended at the dark eyes she’d met twice the night before, before and after the birthday party from hell. Bodie. What was he doing here? At the back of the room, he sat apart. Impossible to mistake for anyone else.
She stiffened, and lost the rhythm of the song. One smooth movement was all it took to recover, yet she had to force her limbs to perform the rest of the routine. Damn, and this medley lasted another three songs.
Forget him! Why had he come? She couldn’t help stealing more glances at him.
And he noticed. He eased through the crowd, watching as if mesmerized.
Something about him drew her, too. She edged further up, within reach of the audience; another thing she never did. His dark eyes shone with lustful appreciation. She dropped to the floor and crawled like a lioness, playing to him and him alone.
He tilted his head, gaze smoldering beneath heavy lids. Good. He wanted her. She rose up to her knees and threw her head back, palms grazing the pattern of the sequined strings comprising her costume.
The men went wild. Cheers and whistles filled the air. Lily didn’t care about them, only that Bodie made no gesture. Rigid, he watched, only his eyes following her.
The music crescendo’d into the grand finale. Thank goodness. The heat of desire had intensified, short circuiting her brain, apparently. Never had she acted so boldly during a set. This guy made her want to strip, and dance naked for him.
Tonight all rules went out the window.
***
“What was that about?” Keb stared from the dressing room doorway, amazement and anger evident.
She slumped to her chair. “I got carried away.”
“Yeah, well, you almost started a riot. Girl, you know better than that.”
“Sorry.” She stopped herself from saying it wouldn’t happen again. She couldn’t guarantee it, if he showed up again.
Fool! Acting like a damn rookie. She did know better. It only led to trouble.
Keb let out a low whistle and walked away.
Melanie, another dancer, entered with a folded paper and thrust it at her. “Keb asked me to give you this. It’s from a guy you pretended to screw onstage.”
Repressing a sneer, Lily took the paper. Shame burned deep. How embarrassing. And totally unprofessional. She couldn’t blame it on drugs, like many of the dancers. Or desperation, like some who tried to seduce the men, hoping for an escape from this life. Sure, guys didn’t hesitate to become lovers, but husbands? In her three years of dancing, Lily knew of only one girl who left to marry a customer. It lasted long enough for her to sign over what little she had, and then the guy disappeared.
Lily knew better than to expect any fairy tale ending, unless she engineered one for herself. It wouldn’t include any guy she’d just met. And didn’t even know his name.
Unfolding the paper, she read: May I speak to you after work?
Hm, polite. Respectful of her job. He only wants to talk? Maybe he didn’t notice she’d seen him, too. Not drooling like the others, and yet the heat in his predatorial look was unmistakable.
A shudder of flame coursed through her veins. Shit. He shot her self-control to hell without saying a word.
No way did she want him hanging around till the end of the night. After tossing on a robe, she went to the door and peered down the hall.
She drew back at the sight of Demi and Gregory huddled close. Arguing? Neither looked happy. She strained to hear, though only snippets came through: Gregory asking, “Seriously? Why?” To which Demi poked at his chest with a bony finger, her voice low and hard, the words inaudible.
Weird. What would they disagree about? Lily hoped Demi didn’t give Gregory a hard time.
Gregory drew himself taller and shushed Demi, sending an indecipherable look toward Lily.
Busted. Damn it. Better to reveal herself than continue spying. She stepped into the hall. Demi and Gregory hurried in opposite directions. In passing, Demi flashed a tight smile and entered her office.
She’d have to check in with Gregory later to make sure everything was all right. At the stage entrance, she signaled Keb. He shot her a look of disdain, then sauntered over.
“Will you ask the man who gave you this to come here?”
“Seriously?” He rounded his eyes and furrowed his brow.
“Yes. Please.”
Keb stomped off and disappeared into the throng of bodies.
A man approached, head down.
The wrong man. Where’s Bodie? Hadn’t he sent her the note?
The man from the club. From the party. There had to be some mistake.
The stranger halted a few feet from her. “Hi.”
“Hey.” Embarrassment kept her from looking him in the eye. If she’d known he’d sent her the note, she’d have stayed back stage.
“Sorry we got off on the wrong foot last night.”
The understatement of the year. “Considering I’ve never formally met you, that’s not quite accurate.”
He flashed a lopsided smile. “With the family.”
Oh my God. “You’re family?” Shame burned in her gut and she tightened her robe around her.
“No, no. I meant with your family. I’m more of a business associate.”
Oh man. He made it sound like the mafia. “What business?”
“I don’t want to hold you up. I’d rather discuss such details over dinner.”
“You wanted to see me to invite me to dinner?”
“Will you do me the honor?”
After her performance, the fact he used the word ‘honor’ elevated his stature. “It’s not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t date customers.” The old stand-by. It never failed.
“What if I promise never to come here again?”
Then he’d never see another slutty performance again. “I don’t know.” Everything in her wanted to say no. Wanted Bodie to stand there instead of him.
He ducked his head, accentuating his long lashes. “Please?”
Shit. Sincerity. It got her every time. She struggled to say no again.
Her silence must have encouraged him. “Tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up around six.”
She pressed her lips tight, desperate to decline. She couldn’t. The necklace distracted her, its unfamiliar weight making her aware of its presence.
He smiled, not the seductive I’m-going-to-see-you-naked-soon kind, it was the shy smile of a man pleased about the prospect of taking her to dinner. Then he walked away.
She didn’t know which her sigh signaled more – relief or disappointment. So strange, that these people from the other side knew where to find her, and more than disconcerting.
“Guess I’ll see you tomorrow evening,” she mumbled, and headed back to the dressing room.
Throughout her next performance, he dominated her thoughts, unwelcome but all too vivid a presence in her mind as he had been in the club. She’d scanned the crowd and not seen him.
Or Bodie. Why had he disappeared? She danced around the pole as she wanted to with him, and stopped short of wrapping herself around it.
Better to keep them at arm’s length. Both had a palpable effect on her, one she wasn’t comfortable with. Never had any man wiped clean the slate of her mind with a mere look, a heated stare that left no doubt what he wanted from her. The very thing she’d vowed
not to give too easily. Never had she experienced such instant arousal, and never with two men at the same time. Their images warred with each other in her head, each struggling for dominance. For her. The effect was dizzying, and the pull of the darker stranger weakened her.
Bodie’s voice sounded in her mind: You’re strong, Lily. I’ll help you.
Yes. If only she could fold herself into Bodie’s warm embrace, to safety.
Taking hold of the pole, she arched her back into a deep backward bend and ended her dance. The stage went dark.
Except for a strange glow, emanating from her. With one pull, she righted herself. Her hand covered the pendant, and the glow winked out.
Before the house lights came up, she hurried off stage.
“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Keb said as she passed through the side entrance.
“Thanks.” She hurried down the hall, her hand still over the pendant, with only Bodie filling her thoughts.
***
In front of the sleek black throne, Zeveriah bowed, all too aware of the triple gaze of Hades’ hell hound Cerberus. And its three sets of snarled teeth.
“Still no progress?” Disgust edged the Prince’s voice, along with a not-so-veiled threat waiting to pounce.
“Yes.” He hoped not to convey arrogance, but for Hell’s sake, give him a break. Zeveriah wasn’t the one who’d botched the first meeting. He’d had her in his reach – in his arms, if he’d allowed himself. He’d deferred to them.
No more would he make that mistake.
Zev added, “I’m taking her to dinner tonight. I’ll smooth things over.”
“Dinner.”
The prince’s mockery ignited Zev’s ire. “She’s alarmed. I must move slowly, or risk losing her altogether.” Control might prove an issue, given the fact every time he saw her, his desire flamed with more intensity. At some point, it would explode into frenzied lovemaking. The prospect of her enthusiastic participation only further threatened his control.
“What about Bodiel?” Hades taunted.
Someone had snitched. Zev would find out who, and make sure it never happened again. “He had made contact. My sources say he seems to have backed off.”
