The thought he might find me special sent another shiverthrough me, but this time it was of pleasure. Sometimes I caught myself eyeing his athletic build, jet-black hair and handsome face. And despite my past trauma at paranormal hands, I knew he was different, and I wanted to be a sexy, desirable woman who might capture his attention for the long haul. I shook my head. I had a lot of other things to worry about than some fantasy about dating my boss.
Like how I was going to become sexy and desirable up on stage tomorrow.
Sighing, I threw open the scratched wooden door to the room’s tiny closet. What the hell was I going to wear for my first dance? A thin tank top I only wore around the motel room seemed a good start. And I could cut off my tightest jeans and make them into skimpy shorts. Another trip to the thrift store would probably score me a pair of boots and cowboy hat. I’d do a cowgirl theme for my first dance and if I made it to the second, maybe the store would have a leotard so I could do a naughty ballerina routine. I’d noticed the girls who made the largest tips often weren’t the ones with the flashiest outfits or the most skin revealed, but the ones who created a fantasy or engaged best with the audience.
As for the dancing, I’d had plenty of lessons in contemporary, jazz, ballet, hip-hop, you name it—before that had ended with my parents’ death in a car crash with a drunk driver when I was fourteen. But still, a little practice seemed appropriate. I flicked on the crappy little bedside radio alarm clock and turned the knob through the crackles until a catchy pop song came on.
I walked to the curtains, closed them up tight and began swaying to the song’s cheerful lyrics. Feeling my body relax further, my feet picked up the rhythm and the music rolled through my hips and limbs like it had done all those years ago. I’d never had music at the den, but I’d done bodyweight exercises and stretched plenty in the small room they’d kept me in. It was one of the few things I’d been able to do other than read and reread whatever books they decided to throw in. So at least I was still limber.
I hadn’t lost anything all these years. I just had a few new scars and hangups. But I was still me. I could still dance.
As I weaved and bobbed through several pop songs, the dancing took me back to happier days. And I was going to give everyone one hell of a dance tomorrow night.
Maybe those tips could carry me to a happier future.
Bryce
“So, let me guess. You drove the Ferrari tonight.” Hunter gave me one of his rare smiles as we sat down at the quietest end of the bar, several feet apart.
“No, no.” I tugged at the cuffs of my dress shirt to try to cover as much skin as possible, regretting not bringing my gloves tonight. “The Ferrari never leaves the garage these days. Like the rest of them. I’m getting boring in my old age.”
“So, you had Gerald drive you?”
“You know me well.”
Hunter shrugged, his bulging shoulders bunching in his tight T-shirt. “Glad you still have him. Someone you can trust.”
“He’s like you. I don’t have to worry you’re only sticking around for my wallet.”
“Yeah. I’m not a woman either.” He shook his head. “I bet you’ve still got gold diggers begging for your attention?”
“More than ever before.” I shuddered. “WhenI can’t even touch the scantily clad, and admittedly beautiful, bodies they throw at me. Makes me feel pretty pathetic, to be honest.”
“Hey, at least any girl you asked to dinner would go. Can’t say the same about the one girl I want.” Hunter scrubbed a hand over the scruff on his face and I took a moment to wonder who the girl was.
Could it be Serenity?
He gave me a commiserating look. “Are we moping tonight? If so, we both need a drink.” He waved over a vamp bartender who’d just finished helping several guests at the middle of the bar. “Vance, my usual for me and our best whiskey for my friend, please.”
Vance’s eyes widened as he clearly recognized who I was. But thankfully, he didn’t say anything. He just nodded and walked away. Annoyingly, a lot of people often did the opposite, wanting to take photos and generally get too close.
As the bartender went back to the main area of the bar for our drinks, I glanced around the club and its plush furnishings. My eyes caught a booth full of wolf shifters, a reminder this club hadn’t always been so pleasant. Hunter had turned things around so masterfully these past years considering the nasty reputation it had held before. I was proud to call him a great friend. And perhaps even my only real one. But who was counting?
The music and lighting were low, and the booths and tables were packed with paranormals of all sorts. Guzzling champagne, blowing puffs of spicy tobacco smoke from cigars, they spoke in quiet voices, many of them with their eyes focused on the still empty stages. The poles were gleaming and showtime seemed imminent, but no dancers were out yet. From the last time I’d been here, which had been quite a while—I really had been neglecting my role as Hunter’s friend and was an even worse loner than him—I knew they liked to start off with a featured solo act.
Whatever was coming tonight, I was extremely grateful Hunter had asked his hostess to place a couple of signs in front of our corner, cordoning us off with a thick red rope tied between them. Healso had a hulking bear shifter bouncer standing guard, sporting enormous biceps—even larger than Hunter’s impressive ones—in an unwelcoming fold.
All the precautions would hopefully protect me from any drunken stumbles or, much more likely, businessmen thrusting their hands out, trying to ingratiate themselves. I was pretty sure my particular condition was common knowledge across New Nebraska, but booze and ambition had a habit of causing forgetfulness.
“Anyway, it’s good to see you.” Hunter smiled again, which was refreshing to see. He’d really been in a bad place emotionally for far too long. “And nobody messes with Franco.” He motioned to the bouncer then gave a nod to Vance as the vamp returned with our drinks. “For tonight, you can rest easy. Drink up and forget you’re the biggest catch in the city.”
I chuckled. Having fame and fortune wasn’t torture, but the attention it brought, and people wanting to reach out and lay hands on me, had the potential to cause it. Literally.
“I appreciate it.” I drank my whiskey, feeling it mix pleasantly with the smoldering blood running through my veins.
Not wanting to broach the subject fully if it wasn’t welcome, but not wanting to ignore it either, as we were missing the third person in our longtime friendship tonight, I pondered openly. “Feels strange being back in a place like this. Remember when we were all a little bit younger and wilder. Remember Dagger before he got his badge? Man, he was—”
“Dagger?” Hunter grimaced. He gave me a hard look and sighed. “Yeah, he was…” He paused and stared at his beer, then shook his head and looked back up at me. “So, let’s talk about the present not the past. I’ve barely been able to restrain myself from calling you today.” Whatever he was thinking about lit up his eyes. “Serenity. What did you think of her for that job opening?”
