What Lola Wants (London Dolls Book 1)
Page 12
He announced her name.
The audience cheered.
Jane whistled. She knew that sound well, and the sharp pitch pierced through the bustle.
Her moment to shine had arrived. Sure, her performance had come a week later than scheduled. And sure, she’d spent most of the week attending to Dennis’s needs and hadn’t practiced at all. But she looked forward to standing tall and showing the world the woman she’d always wanted to be. The woman she’d become.
Confident. Happy. Proud.
She sucked in a deep breath and waited for her music to begin.
Eartha Kitt’s voice blasted “Whatever Lola Wants” through the sound system. That was her cue. She gulped and pinned back her shoulders. On pointe, she shuffled onto the stage.
No ballet tutu. No sharp angles. No fancy spins. Not this time. Not for her last performance. She only planned to express herself, sexy and someone who spoke up for what she wanted, someone with freedom of expression. She was going to be Lola.
She let the heels of her feet press to the ground then relaxed her stance a little.
In a soft, flowing magenta dress, she swept the stage; a nudge of the shoulder here, a peek at what was under her dress there.
Whatever Lola wanted, she did. She kept it simple and classy…until she slipped out of the skirt portion of the dress. Then she transformed into cheeky, enjoying teasing the audience with whether she’d take off her top before going into full swing with her Hula-Hoop. Giggles echoed through the hall, but she focused on Dennis and how she’d impressed him with her plastic circle skills. She slid the plastic between her thighs and stepped over with a sly grin. She waved the circle over her head and brought it down to her buttocks as she gyrated. Gasps from the audience suggested she had a knack, so she took it further. Slinking to the emcee, she entrapped the host and yanked him into a larger than life tango. After parading him around for a few steps, she released him and whispered, “Thanks for being a sport.”
“My pleasure, miss.” He blew a kiss out to the audience then caught the back of her corset and pulled on the clasp. Bam, she lost her top. Faking coy, she threw her arms over her chest and turned her back to the audience.
Glancing over her shoulder, she bought her hand up and rounded her mouth to mimic a shocked expression. The music changed to “I Am a Good Girl,” and she twirled to give the audience what they wanted. A glance at her breasts. Tassels. Very cliché. But, hell, she didn’t care. She shimmied and spun those silk twists like her life depended on it. Faster than she’d ever spun any Hula-Hoop before. The audience stood and cheered. Heck, she loved it. They loved her. They roared for more, for her, and not some trumped up choreography and soulless routine that was all about expressing someone else’s vision.
They cheered for her. They cheered for her beauty, and her art.
Music faded, and she curtseyed until the curtains had closed and she was out of sight.
She clasped her knees and sucked in a breath. “I thought I’d messed up our little spin for a minute there,” she said to the emcee, “when my corset didn’t drop at first.”
“I couldn’t find the clasp. Totally my fault.” His grin told her he’d done it on purpose for a spot of fun. “You know, your cheeky little Hula-Hoop act slots perfectly into the regular Doll House lineup. If you ever fancy joining us, let me know.”
“Oh, will you put in a good word with the owner for me? I didn’t think I’d want to do this on a regular basis, but it sure is fun to get out there and be me. Great therapy.”
“Oh, honey, I am the owner. The spot is yours anytime you want it.”
“Thanks.”
He threw out his arm and put on a smile. “Offer’s open. Anytime, gorgeous. Friend of Jane’s and all that. Toodle-doo, my darlings await my presence out there. The show must go on.” And he swooped to the front of the curtain to announce the next act.
Dennis waited in the wings, his arms out, his mouth kicked up in a wide grin.
“I love you, Louisa Lone. You’re an amazing woman.”
She raced to him and cupped his face. “And I love you.” She kissed him. “I will always love you.” She kissed him again. “Always.”
He swept her up in his arms and held her tight. “I believe you.”
“I take it back.”
“Come again?”
“What I said about strippers having no self-respect.”
“Ah, yes. And why is that?” He pulled the pin holding her hair in a loose bun and shook out the style, teasing his fingers through her locks while he bussed her neck.
“I feel so alive, so confident. So happy. Like I used to be, except more so because my heart is happy as well as my creative self. And to think it’s all because I bared my arse to strangers.”
“No, it’s because you bared your soul. You found your truth, and you aren’t hiding behind someone else’s idea of who you should be.”
“Dennis.”
“Hmm, yes.”
“Have I told you how much I love you?”
“Yes, I do believe you have.” He flinched and bent forward.
“Oh, honey. Does your wound hurt?” She kissed him again. “Let’s go to my dressing room where I can make you feel better.”
“I almost forgot in all the excitement. I got offered a job at the university here in London. So, where do you fancy? A flat in the town center amid the bustle you love. Or a terraced Victorian on a quiet side street? Or, do you still fancy that little cottage by the sea? Whatever you want, Lola.”
“It doesn’t matter, Dennis. I’d live in a chalet if it meant being with you.”
Dancers raced past them and positioned themselves for the next performance. The tallest one scowled and hushed them.
Dennis waved to the ladies. “Sorry.”
Louisa guided them to the dressing area and slipped into a sweater. “Let’s go back to Jane’s flat to celebrate and browse real estate websites.”
“Don’t you need to change first?”
She shook her head. “No time. Our new home by the beach isn’t going to pick itself out.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He chuckled. “But you might want to consider putting on a skirt or trousers.”
“Oops.” Throwing on jeans and wiping the doll makeup off, she grinned so hard her cheeks ached. “Okay. I’m dressed now. Let’s go.”
“Great, because I don’t think the hotel I booked us in would appreciated a half naked guest,” he said.
“You’re too much. You really booked us into a hotel for tonight?”
He nodded. “To celebrate your first burlesque performance.”
“And not my last?”
“No, no. Not your last. I want a repeat show later.” He winked. “With the Hula-Hoop.”
“Knock, knock.” Miss Lily popped her head around the corner, grinning so wide smile lines took over her aged face. “You danced beautifully, Louisa. Such a fine young lady you are. Though I do wish you’d have kept more clothes on.”
“Miss Lily?”
“Yes, dear. This handsome young man of yours told me an incredible story of how you were jobless and stripping for money. I couldn’t believe it, had to see it for my own eyes.” She swooped into the space, her shoulders back, her chin high. Louisa couldn’t help admire how her movements demanded attention just by simply being graceful.
“Stripping for money, indeed.” Louisa rolled her eyes at Dennis.
“Now who’s the tease artist?” Miss Lily winked. “Actually, dear, I’m here to invite you to teach my new little ones. I’m getting too old for this, and practically leaped at Dennis’s suggestion to have you take over some of my classes.”
She glanced at him. “You’re a sneaky one, when did you talk to Miss Lily?”
“She came to visit me in the hospital.”
“Funny old town is Torquay, everyone knows everyone else’s business.” Miss Lily winked.
“Thank you,” Lola whispered to him before turning to her dance teacher and declaring, “
I’d love to, Miss Lily.” She curtsied like the lady her teacher had always required of her as a student then threw her arms around her. “I really would love that.”
“Then I’ll see you at the studio, 4pm sharp on Monday.” Miss Lily waved. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must talk with the dancers. There were a few that missed the beat a couple of times. And one dancer, well, her pirouettes left a lot to be desired.” She pivoted then turned to talk to the other girls.
“Just like Miss Lily.” Louisa shook her head. “She hasn’t changed in the slightest.”
He hooked his arm in hers. “And you wouldn’t have her any other way.”
“So true.”
Dennis guided her to the theatre’s car park. The previous week’s nightmare came flooding back, and Al’s glare burned into her all over again. Dennis squeezed her arm, his warmth reminding her she was safe now. She eased into his embrace.
A limo parked before them, and a driver in a gray suit and hat got out and opened a passenger door. “Miss. Sir. Good evening. Traffic is pretty heavy, but I don’t expect any delays in reaching your destination.”
“Dennis?”
“Oh, yeah. One more surprise for this evening. We’re staying in the finest suite at the best hotel in London.”
“Serious?”
“Deadly. My Lola deserves to be treated like a princess after her first night as a London Doll.” He grabbed her hand and helped her into the vehicle. “You should be cherished, and I’m going to make damn sure that you are. From now on, whatever Lola wants, Lola gets.”
“All I will ever need is you.”
The End.
From the Author
Thanks for purchasing What Lola Wants! I sure do hope you enjoyed the West End adventure with Lola, Dennis, and the Dolls. Watch for book two coming soon, GOODNIGHT SWEETHEART. While you’re waiting for the second London Doll story, why not drop by my website to browse my offerings of ever afters with unique characters and heartfelt sizzle. From meet cutes to opposites attract, first loves and second chances. Snuggle into your favorite reading spot, and let me tell you a story of romance and passion...
www.joannekenrick.com
About the Author
JoAnne Kenrick is a multi-published romance author who writes both contemporaries and paranormals. She was born and raised in a wee seaside town in North Wales, and has traveled far and wide. In true Brit form, she is a teaholic.
She now lives in North Carolina with her very own British hero, where she creates ever afters with a backdrop of those wonderful places she's visited.
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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
From the Author
About the Author
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