by Carina Adams
It fact shocked me to my core. I dragged my eyes away from him and focused on a rock near my feet. I didn’t want to like the pain in the ass that was Cady. I sure as hell didn’t want to be attracted to her. Or see a future with her in it. Yet, I did, I was and I could. I might never tell her, but I would be honest with myself for a few minutes, even if it was painful.
I sat and wallowed in self-pity as each dancer took her turn and the crowd went wild. Reid hollered to me as he walked Violet to the stage. I glanced up to find him smiling.
“You’re up.” He tipped his chin toward the tent behind him. “Wish my girl luck for me.”
It wasn’t a question. I ignored him and narrowed my attention on Violet. “It sounds like a good crowd. Go have fun with ‘em.”
She beamed. “Always.”
I headed for the tent door just as Ruffles came out and I stopped dead in my tracks.
The black halter bra was just dark enough not to be see-through, but left very little to the imagination. On her hips she wore the shortest black silk tutu outlined with lace that gave it just enough length to cover the ink-colored panties she wore beneath it. Over it all, a black underbust corset trimmed out in white ribbon gave her an exaggerated hourglass shape. Matching garters clung to thighs I wanted to grab onto while I plunged into her. A long layer of tulle and lace ruffles fell down behind her.
I didn’t want to walk her to the stage. I didn’t want anyone else to see her. I wanted to throw the robe around her, toss her over my shoulder, and take her somewhere we wouldn’t be discovered for days.
“That’s new.”
She grabbed onto the lace at her hips and pulled it to the sides, showing me the costume. “It was for tomorrow night. We moved it up.”
Randy came out and handed me the robe and another costume. I held it up in silent question.
“We have our second group dance right after mine,” Ruffles explained. “I’m going to change while Liv does whatever it is she does.”
“The hell you are.”
She rolled her eyes. “What? Is someone going to see me naked?” She motioned to her costume. “Oh, no. We wouldn’t want that.” She sassed and turned to walk down the path before I could respond.
“It’s different,” I snarled as I caught up with her.
She nodded. “You’re right. You’ll be there to shelter unwanted eyes. I don’t have that luxury when I’m on stage.”
“They can wait five minutes for us to come down here.”
“They can’t.” She didn’t slow down. “If it was any of the other girls, would you have a problem with it?”
I hesitated. I didn’t know. I’d had my employees change in some really unusual places, but never out in the open where anyone could see. Their privacy when they weren’t on stage was the one thing I could offer them. “I would.”
“Really?” She slowed. “Think about it this way. I’m not really changing. When I get off stage after my dance, I’ll already be bare. You’ll hand me the costume and I’ll put it on, essentially covering myself up.”
“That’s a good point,” I begrudgingly agreed.
We met Violet and Reid in the landing behind the stage, but Ruffles only sent a quick wave in their direction. She drummed her fingers against her leg—something I’d noticed she did whenever she was nervous. Without thinking, I grabbed her hand to offer a little bit of comfort.
“It’s different when I’m alone,” she admitted as the rest of her bravado slipped away. “Any last minute advice?”
“If you feel like you’re losing the crowd, swap things up. Remember, good girls bend at the knees, bad girls bend at the waist.” I leaned close and whispered, “Feel free to bend.”
She stared at me, amazed. Then started to giggle. “That’s your advice?”
I nodded.
Once Livie introduced her, she smirked, shoved my shoulder, and hurried up the stairs. I ignored everyone as I made my way to the front, stood at the side of the stage and watched as she transfixed every person in the theatre. I knew I’d never hear Manson’s “Sweet Dreams” again without remembering her and the way she looked.
A few minutes later, she ran down the stairs again. This time we weren’t alone. Cady snatched the costume out of my hands and dashed toward one of dark areas. Minutes later, she was back on stage, ready to go again.
As the lights came on, illuminating the stage, and the girls slowly strolled out. Dressed in long robes with draping sleeves and hoods pulled up over their heads, they each found their spot and froze in place. I wasn’t sure if they were supposed to be monks or pagans and even though I’d helped choreograph all the dances, I had no idea what to expect.
When “Heathens” started to play, I chuckled to myself. The costumes were perfect. Once the robes were shed, the girls broke into two pairs—Peaches and Myra, Violet and Ruffles—and acted out the song with two separate, but entwined, routines. It was hot as fuck.
The steampunk style bustier corset was a staple for most burlesque dancers because it fit many different looks and could be worn with any bottom. It was convenient because it covered everything and dancers usually didn’t need anything but pasties under it. Plus, it came off quickly with a simple pull of the snaps on the side, perfect when someone else was undressing you.
They’d been happy when they came off stage after their first group dance, but this time they were off the wall. They talked all at once, shrieking with happiness. It took all four of us to wrangle them together and get them back to the tent.
We’d just ushered them inside when Andy appeared in the end of the walkway and hollered my name. I’d hired him to help with the security out front. I’d been assured there would be extra hands on deck, off-the-clock campus guards, but I liked knowing we had a few extra sets of eyes watching the girls. I met him half way, Reid and Drake on my heels.
“What’s wrong?” I asked when I got close enough.
“Nothin’.” He shook his head with a shrug. “There’s a woman out front insisting she needs to see you.”
“Now? We’re in the middle of a show.”
“That’s what I told her, but she won’t take no for an answer.”
“Take a name. Tell her I’ll find her after.”
“I tried that,” my cousin insisted. “She said she needs to see you now. She’s not dressed like a guest. Do you think it’s someone from UCM?”
I didn’t have an answer. Anything was possible.
“Go,” Reid encouraged me. “I’ll keep eyes on Ruffles,”
“I’ll help,” Drake added.
I nodded. “I’ll find out what’s going on and be right back.” I started up the path and motioned for Andy to come with me. “Did she say anything else? Any hint of what she wanted?”
“Nothing. Just she needed to see you immediately.”
“Did she use my name?”
He frowned as he tried to remember. “Yeah, she did.”
Great, I thought. It could be anyone.
I walked into the clearing unsure, not knowing who to expect, ready for anyone. However, the tall brunette with mocha-skin and piercing blue eyes, dressed for a boardroom in a three-piece-suit, threw me for a loop.
“Marcus. What are you doing here?”
She smiled warmly as she stepped forward to give me a hug. “I was in the neighborhood.”
I didn’t believe that for an instant. Especially not when Liv was out front. The coincidence was too great.
She cackled as she read the disbelief on my face. “No, really. My favorite nephew is a student here. His last Homecoming game is tomorrow and I promised him I wouldn’t miss it. I ran into Glitters at the coffee shop earlier today and she invited me.”
“She’s not dancing.”
Marcus smirked. “I know. I’m not here to talk about her.”
I crossed my arms over my chest. “What do you want?”
“You. But since you won’t close Soiree and come work for me,” she turned slightly and pointed at the stage, “t
hem.”
I cocked a brown and hoped she’d see I wasn’t in the mood for games.
Entirely too amused, her eyes sparkled in delight. “They’re brilliant. If I didn’t know better, I’d think they’d been performing together for years.”
“You couldn’t wait until after the show to sing your praises?”
“Oh, that’s not what I’m doing.” She stepped closer, “I want them.”
Unease tickled my spine. I didn’t let it show and forced a laugh. “You can book them online,” I explained. “There’s a spot for special requests.”
“Don’t be coy. It doesn’t suit you,” she snapped.
“Then stop being vague and tell me what you want.”
She smiled again. “I want them to do a show at Sway.”
“We do private parties.”
“Now, yes. Have you seen that crowd? Those girls are about to blow up. Every time Glitters takes the stage she talks about Soiree. I guarantee before the weekend is over, all four of them will be booked solid for another six months.”
I didn’t hate the idea. Business slowed during December and January and the girls got worried about money. If I could keep them working, it would be a huge weight off my shoulders. “What does any of that have to do with you?”
“I want them to do a private show at Sway in May. Not one or two of them, but all five.”
“I only have four dancers.”
“Yeah, but Glitters is one of the best hostesses I’ve ever seen. Her contract with China says she can’t dance. It doesn’t say she can’t host.” She paused and tapped her fingertip to her chin. “I’ll take care of all the overhead and even let you work with my marketing team to set the ticket prices. You can sell merch, promote Soiree, and even let the dancers accept tips. I’ll take thirty-five percent of ticket sales only, the rest is yours to keep and divide however you choose.”
“We don’t do public events,” I reminded her again as dollar signs flashed in my mind.
She shrugged. “It’s no more public than this. Think about it. The surge from tonight will be gone, business will be stagnant. It’ll be a great advertising tool for you, bonuses for your dancers. Unlike the Mistresses of Mayhem, Soiree is new. We can market each individual dancer and their personality. They’re all sexy as hell in their own way.”
She was right, all our girls were talented, each with their own niche and brand of sexy.
Myra was every man’s teenage fantasy. She was the girl with attitude, the one we were all a little scared of. The one who gave a hundred first wet dreams, but also the one who wasn’t afraid to throw a punch when she got pissed. She was the cheerleader, the prom queen, the valedictorian. The one wanted from afar because she was always just out of reach.
Peaches was the kind of woman every man wanted to take home to his mom. The all American girl next door, she was both beautiful and sweet as apple pie. Yet once she got you alone alone, she had a naughty streak a mile wide. She was the librarian who’d spank anyone who dog-eared a page.
Vi, on the other had, was the pixie who brought out your inner caveman. She was so little you could pick her up and fit her in your pocket. The wild child, with obnoxiously colored hair, covered in tattoos, she was the fantasy you hid from your friends. She could transform into a hipster Princess Lea, pull off an innocent school girl costume like no other, or wear simple black latex with wings bigger than she was. It didn’t matter what the costume was because it was the way she took it off that drove men crazy.
Then there was Ruffles and she was something else entirely. Sassy yet innocent, cute yet sexy, curvy and sultry all at the same time. In an industry that had shifted over time, where women were now expected to look a certain way, Ruffles broke all the rules. With her thick thighs, hour glass shape, voluptuous breasts that were more than a handful, and a perfectly round bottom, she had curves for days. Ruffles was a reminder of the pinup girls from another time, a lost art. She didn’t need elaborate costumes because her very presence and self-confidence was enough to turn every man on.
“I need to talk to the girls and Reid.”
Marcus nodded. “That’s fine. Do what you need to do to convince them. Because once your competitors realize what you’ve started, they’ll all copy you, and you won’t hold the market anymore.”
“Give me the weekend?”
“Until Sunday. Let’s have lunch before I go home. We’ll either finalize the deal or forget all about it.”
I agreed and watched her disappear into the masses then headed straight for the tent.
“Who was it?” Reid asked as soon as he saw me.
“Marcus.” I gave him a quick breakdown as I rubbed my chin. “What do you think?”
At first he didn’t say anything. Then, he grabbed a beer from a cooler I hadn’t seen before and held it out. “You hear that?” He yelled over the thundering applause and wolf-whistles for Myra. “Our girls are kicking ass.”
I almost turned it down. After the night I’d had, I gave myself a reprieve. I took it, popped the top, and tapped it against his. “They are.”
“I think they deserve more of that. Don’t you?”
“They do,” I glanced at him. “But it’s not who we are. I worry about the location, the market it will appeal to. I worry about them.”
“Maybe it isn’t what we do now, but maybe it’s what we’re meant to do. You gave those women a safe, secure place to be themselves, do what they love, and make good money in the processes. They know you worry about them. Now show them you know they’ve grown. Let them decide if they want more.”
“You’re right about all but one thing. We did this. You and me.”
“I put the money up. Helped where I could. The idea, the vision, the hard work? That’s all you.” He shrugged. “Nights like tonight, where everyone is smiling and happy and having a blast, it hits home.”
All I had done was create a company I would have been proud to dance for and given our employees the rights everyone deserved. The only reason we’d been given this new opportunity for a gig at Sway had been because they’d danced as a group. The only reason I’d even suggested it was to impress Cady.
I couldn’t tell Reid. Not when I had no idea what they were. So, I focused on the positive.
“I’ll call a mandatory staff meeting after the show. We’ll let them decide.”
“Good.”
Myra and Grove walked by, both laughing, as Peaches’ song started to play.
Reid stood up, “Gotta grab Vi. We’re up.” He grinned once more. “It wasn’t easy, making the choices you did. I’m proud of you.”
I swallowed at the lump in my throat. He wouldn’t feel that way if he knew I’d had my tongue down Cady’s throat an hour before. Or if he knew what I still planned to do with her.
Thirty-One
Cady
The Victorian era costume was my absolute favorite yet. I loved how the silk felt against my skin and the way it swooshed against my legs when I walked. I wasn’t sure why Randy let me wear a long, full skirt, but I wasn’t going to complain.
Manson’s “Sweet Dreams” blared from a speaker I couldn’t see. I loved that song. It made me want to throw my hands in the air, jump up and down, and shake my groove-thing. The music didn’t match the costume, though. A fact that gave me a tug of worry.
I moved to the edge of the stage and tried to see the crowd. Something felt off, but I couldn’t put my finger on it. The music stopped and the lights went out, sending the room into a dark, eerie silence.
I spun around to ask if anyone had a phone. I was alone. Confused, I called out.
When no one answered, I tried to make my way around the backstage hallways, but it was too dark to see where I was going. I hollered for Roman, sure he’d be within arms reach like he always was. This time, though, he didn’t come to rescue me.
I yelled for Reid. He didn’t answer, either. I stopped trying to move and counted to twenty. Reid took a few minutes sometimes. Yet, he still didn’t appear.
I couldn’t breathe. I was all alone. They’d left me by myself. I fought tears as I used my hands to guide me down the hall.
I rounded a corner and there, all the way at the end of the corridor was light streaming from under a door. An incredible sense of déjà vu hit me as I slowed my steps to match a snail’s pace. I knew the door, just like I knew what was going to be waiting for me on the other side of it.
I shook my head, even though there was no one else there. I didn’t want to see it again, to live through that pain one more time. Yet, I couldn’t seem to stop my feet from moving. If I could just back away, run in the other direction, I could pretend my mom was okay.
My eyes flew open and I sat up, gasping.
I stared at my comforter and tried to bring back the details of the dream. What I could recall terrified me. I rarely retained my dreams. When I did, they made me worry for days because it seemed like they were a warning of some sort.
“Sweet Dreams” by the Eurhythmics, the ringtone I’d programed for my nana, broke the silence and I lunged for my phone, happy to have the distraction.
“’Lo?”
“Did I wake you up? Why are you still sleeping?” Before I could answer, she kept talking. “Do you know what time it is? I’ve been calling you for hours.”
I clutched my head with my free hand and fell back onto my pillow with an exaggerated ‘oomph’. “Morning, Nan. What’s wrong?”
“I don’t think you’re getting enough rest, that’s what’s wrong.”
I scrubbed my face, exhausted. For once she and I agreed on something. “I’m not. Too many parties, not enough college life left.”
My grandmother might have been old fashioned and lived a different life than I wanted for myself, but she knew me well enough to enjoy the humor in my snark. “Well, if you keep partying the way you have been, they’ll be plenty of college left ‘cause you’ll have to repeat your senior year.”
I didn’t want to laugh, but she sounded so serious I couldn’t help it. “Don’t get your hopes up, old woman. I have to grow up sometime.”
